by Jonas Saul
Trever entered the room, leaving the door open. He looked from Parkman, who was wiping his mouth and getting up from his chair, to Lee, and finally to Sarah. He wore an expensive-looking suit jacket and cream-colored slacks. The beard was as neat and trim as before. It was like he had a barber measure every hair and make sure the beard was perfect every day before leaving the house.
After locking eyes with Sarah, he sauntered over to her, his right hand extended.
“You did a great job out there,” Florko said.
Sarah rose from the couch and shook his hand. “I didn’t expect to see you after, you know.” She exchanged a glance with Parkman. “After kidnapping you for one city block.”
“I had to come. After I dropped you off on Dayton Street, I was visited by those two officers who died.” He drifted off and looked down at his shoes for a moment. “I don’t know.” He shrugged, then looked back at her. “After reading the news, I can see none of this had anything to do with me and as far as I can tell, I did the right thing by helping you.”
She placed a hand on his shoulder. “You did do the right thing. And I have no issue with you telling those cops where I’d gone. They pursued me. What happened to them was their doing. It had nothing to do with you or me. In fact,” she touched her side and winced, “if you hadn’t directed me to that Army Surplus store, I would probably be dead right now. Or recuperating in a hospital with a bullet wound. So thanks for that and thanks for coming so I could say it to you personally.”
They shook hands again. Trever nodded at Lee, shook his hand, talked to Parkman briefly, then left.
“That wasn’t so bad,” Sarah said. “Decent guy. Seems honorable.”
The buzzer on Lee’s desk lit up. “Yes, Julie.”
“Mrs. Brooke Martin here to see you.”
“Send her in.”
“Martin?” Sarah said. “As in Leonard Martin’s mother?”
Lee nodded. “The one and only.”
“Be nice,” Parkman warned.
“Aren’t I always?”
He glared at her briefly.
The door opened and Thirio’s mother stepped inside the office tentatively. She held a folded Kleenex in her hand. The peach-colored dress she wore seemed to be in a brighter mood than she was. The woman stopped three feet inside the office and took a deep breath. No one spoke.
Mrs. Martin took another deep breath, fidgeted with a fingernail, then said, “I didn’t raise him like that—” her choked voice cut off. With the Kleenex over her mouth, she said, “I’m so sorry for the pain my boy caused everyone.”
Her plea, the obvious pain she was enduring, meant something to Sarah. Sometimes people don’t turn out the way you expect. Sometimes it had nothing to do with parenting or upbringing.
Sometimes people were just fucked to begin with.
Sarah trudged over and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. Brooke Martin, a Satanist’s mother, wept in Sarah’s arms as Sarah cooed to her and waited for the sobs to abate.
When Sarah turn back to Parkman and Lee, two people had joined them. Sarah jolted at the sight of them, but Brooke barely seemed to notice her sudden jerk. In the early hours of the day, as she caught some sleep and then dictated her statement, Sarah had talked briefly with Vivian. She understood much more now. In Denmark, when Sarah had died, the sisters had made a pact. Sarah would be able to foretell things about the future through emotions. Sarah would also be able to know things as if she’d known them for years. Vivian could add to Sarah’s memory stores at will. Their connection would be forever stronger with Vivian closer to her consciousness than ever.
What Vivian didn’t know or understand at the time was that by opening this avenue as wide as they did, it brought Sarah that much closer to the other side. She could hear her sister, but not see her. With other entities, she could see them, but not really hear them. The old man had to use his hands to give her the cell phone code because he knew she couldn’t hear him.
That old man stood beside Parkman now.
A woman in her forties stood behind Lee. She watched Lee with sorrow in her eyes. As Sarah studied the woman, certain things became clear, things she needed to tell Lee.
Mrs. Martin collected herself, took another deep breath, and faced Sarah.
“I’m sorry.” She turned to Lee and Parkman. “Leonard killed his brother, my son. I will try to find forgiveness in my heart, but I think that’s a long way off.”
Mrs. Martin pulled a cell phone out of her burgundy purse suspended from her shoulder. She opened it and flipped through photos.
“Sarah, I want to show you Leonard as a young boy.” She stopped on a photo where a boy about the age of three or four was playing with a large yellow Tonka truck. “When he was young, he was sweet and innocent. The perfect little boy.” She flipped through more pictures until she stopped on one with Leonard and his brother.
“Wow, how could you tell the twins apart?” Sarah asked.
“As their mother, that wasn’t so hard.” She flipped through other pictures.
“Stop,” Sarah said. “Go back two photos.” Brooke swiped sideways. “Who is that?” Sarah asked, staring at a photo of the old man who stood in the room beside Parkman.
“That man was my brother,” Brooke said. “Leonard’s uncle.”
“Sarah?” Parkman got up from his chair. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Sarah faced the man—Thirio’s uncle—as he tipped his head her way, gestured that he was washing his hands, then turned and strode through the wall of Lee’s office, head bowed.
Thirio’s uncle had come to save her life. Thirio’s uncle helped save her from his own nephew. Sarah wrapped her arms around Mrs. Martin to avoid having Parkman and Lee see her face.
“I’m sure Lucas Martin was a good man.” Sarah pulled back from Brooke. “Your brother loved those boys.”
“He sure did.” She slipped her phone away and turned toward the open door. “I know my apology won’t mean much after all that Leonard’s done, but I wanted to do it anyway.”
“It means something to me,” Sarah said. Parkman stood beside her.
“I’m curious.” Brooke turned back at the door. “Did Leonard ever talk to you about his family?”
“Our time together was a little more chaotic. Family didn’t come up.”
“I’ve heard about you, Sarah. Read what Google offered. I’m grateful you didn’t kill my son when you could’ve. Even after all he’s done, I’m a mother first. But let me ask you something.” She wiped the tip of her nose with the Kleenex. “How did you know my brother’s name?”
Sarah blinked, then refocused. “It’s what I do. I know things. Your trip to Google would have told you that about me.”
“I guess so.” She backed into the corridor. “I’m just not a believer in all things psychic.”
Sarah smiled wide. There wasn’t much else to say. She’d heard the woman, listened to her, and offered empathy. Her visit wasn’t a complete waste, though. There was a breakthrough moment. Sarah now understood who the old man had been and why he’d hung around since the day she arrived in Kelowna.
Mrs. Martin moved down the corridor, leaving Lee’s office door open. Sarah took a second to collect herself, closed the door, then faced the sad woman behind Lee’s chair.
It was easy to see the family resemblance to Lee. Uncanny, really. The nose, the eyes, even Lee’s forehead looked the same.
“What?” Lee asked. He glanced over his shoulder, then back at Sarah. “What are you seeing?”
The woman met Sarah’s eyes, then raised her hands. She held a different kind of fruit in each one.
“I need a paper and a pen,” Sarah mumbled.
Lee scrambled on his desk until he had what Sarah needed. Parkman grabbed it and delivered it to Sarah.
“You okay, Sarah?” Parkman asked.
She nodded. “Just give me a second, guys.” Sarah moved back to the couch as if in a daze, watching the woman to decipher what she was t
rying to communicate.
After Sarah had written several things down, the woman stopped her antics and stared at Lee again.
Sarah eased back into the couch and sighed. “Lee, have you been in touch with your son, Nick?” she asked.
“No,” Lee said. “I tried.” He snuck a look at Parkman who was no help, then continued. “Talked to his wife, though.”
“Any plans to try again?”
“I thought it had to do with the case.”
“Originally. But ultimately it was about family.”
“Parkman, what’s she talking about?”
Sarah raised her hand. “He won’t be of any help. Yes, Nick had a picture of Thirio because of work Thirio had screwed them out of weeks ago. But there’s something greater here and it has to do with your health.”
Lee touched his chest and guffawed. “My health? What the hell are you talking about?”
“Your son is terminal, Lee. I’m sorry to say it like this, but here’s the truth as I know it and I don’t have a lot of time to be gentle. Your son is dying and his family will need you. You already know some of this, Lee. You have to be there for Nick’s wife and your son’s two young daughters.”
“Okay,” he said, his voice subdued. “Okay. I’ll call him. I’ll reconnect. I’ll do what I can.”
“But that’s not all.”
“What? What else is there?”
“The woman behind you.”
Lee turned around. Parkman stared at Sarah, his eyes boring a hole in her.
“I think she’s your mother. Her name starts with the letter D. Dana, Danielle, Daphne, something like that.”
“Daphne.” Lee stared back at Sarah, the color draining from his cheeks.
“I keep seeing an image. It’s weird, though.”
“What image?”
“A cat in a cradle.”
Lee’s mouth dropped open. “Cat’s in the cradle. That’s the song Nick used to quote when he was younger. I was always so busy with the force. Couldn’t be home all the time. My son would say I would regret it one day and then when I was older, he wouldn’t have time for me. Cat’s in the cradle is a private joke between Nick and me that blossomed into something more serious.”
“When you call Nick, you’re supposed to say that to him. Say you’ll fix it.”
“Okay, I will. I will.”
Sarah referred to the notes she’d jotted down. “Do you have pain in your side?”
Lee nodded.
“You thought it was sugar? Then alcohol?”
He nodded again.
Sarah looked at her notes, trailing the words with her finger. “It’s salt.”
“Salt?” Parkman said. “Wow, who would’ve known?”
“Lee, your kidneys are having a hard time expelling the salt in your diet because you eat a lot of fast food with this job which is loaded with salt. The reason your kidneys are being taxed is because of your high blood pressure.”
“How did you know about …” he let his voice trail off.
“I’ve written down kiwis and bananas for potassium, which your arteries will love. Daily moderate exercise. Some dark chocolate and a little red wine will do wonders for the blood pressure, so I’ve been told. Lose ten pounds, your mother says. It’ll reduce your blood pressure numbers by ten points.” She got up from the couch and walked over to his desk. “Look, your mother is trying to save your life so you can have more time with Nick’s family.” She placed the pad on the desk face up so Lee could see everything she’d written. “Heart attack is expected within months if you don’t take these measures.” She placed both hands flat on the desk and leaned closer to him. “You’ve got many years left, Officer Stephen Lee, but the stress and food of this job has taken its toll. Retire. Do it now before this place kills you. Eat better and exercise. And go spend time with your family. It’s over for you here. Besides, you deserve this.”
Parkman walked around the desk and patted Lee on the back as the veteran police officer began to silently weep. “Listen to her, my old friend. She knows what she’s talking about.”
Lee wiped his eyes and read what Sarah had written down. He nodded his head. “I can’t believe it. My mother told you all this?”
“I’m not a doctor. I don’t diagnose people. She came because she loves you and wants you to stay here longer. Check out some of this with your doctor, but it all sounds right to me.”
He set his hand on the paper. “I will make changes and I will get in touch with my son. I was already thinking about retiring.”
Parkman’s cell phone rang. He grabbed it and read the screen.
“Aaron,” he said and handed the phone to Sarah.
“Hey,” she said.
“You coming home?” he asked. His voice was off somewhat.
“Yeah. We’ve got a flight in,” she turned to Lee’s office clock, “just over two hours.”
“I’ll pick you up.”
“What’s going on?” She looked at Parkman. “Should I be concerned?”
“Nothing we can’t handle.”
“Aaron. What happened?”
“We were visited by two Italian guys. It’s nothing really. I just didn’t like the way they asked for you.”
“Asked for me?”
“They came into the new dojo we’re building and ordered us to locate you. Call you, find you. We told them to fuck off. They came back again today.”
“And?”
“There were five of them.”
Something told her it was worse than she expected. “And?”
“They were armed.”
That was worse. “Shit. They tell you what they want?”
“Just to talk to you.”
“Bullshit. I have no beef with the Italians that I know about.”
“Look, don’t worry about it. Just come home. When’s your flight come in?”
She told him. “I’ll see you then.”
Aaron clicked off without saying goodbye or his usual words of love, which was unlike him.
“Parkman, I’m worried. Aaron’s pretty freaked out.”
“It’s probably nothing. Fill me in on the plane.”
They started for the door.
“Wait,” Lee said, bounding out of his chair. He wrapped his arms around Sarah when he got to her. “Thank you.”
“Just put in the work. Fix yourself. Buy a fucking Fitbit or an Apple watch or something. But deal with it. That’ll be thanks enough.”
He let her go and hugged Parkman.
Ten minutes later, they were racing along Harvey Avenue toward the Kelowna airport. As Sarah explained her new ability to Parkman, she retracted her earlier statements about being freaked out by it.
“We’re all freaked out when things are unclear,” she said. “Now I know who these people are and what they’re trying to do.”
“Why do you think the Italians are looking for you?”
“I’ll meet with them, find out what they want. Then deal with it. I’m sure it’s nothing.”
Parkman stared out the window. She stared out hers, thinking about all the Italians she’d know in the past. Maybe it had something to do with the time she spent in Italy?
Vivian showed up before they reached the airport and whispered two words into Sarah’s consciousness.
The Chase.
Whatever the Italians wanted, it had to do with The Chase.
A chill ran through Sarah. Even though those two words by themselves meant nothing significant to her, she did not like the sound of them.
The Chase gave her an ominous feeling of danger and regret, loss and struggle, which seemed to be what made up her life nowadays.
Would it ever end? she asked herself.
Afterword
Dear Reader,
I’m glad you’re still here. It’s been a long run, this being book eighteen in Sarah’s life. I love what’s planned for The Chase (Book 19) and The Betrayal (Book 20). I plan to release both of the those titles in 2017. The Terror is o
ver for now, the threat neutralized, but it is only the beginning for Sarah’s new abilities. Since the beginning of this series, I’ve endeavored to evolve Sarah as a character, maturing her, changing her based on events in her life. She’s definitely not the same girl from The Crypt (Book 3) or even The Vigilante (Book 7).
