The Sarah Roberts Series Vol. 7-9

by Jonas Saul

  “What can I do for you?” Aaron asked.

  “Are you Aaron Stevens?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you know a woman by the name of Sarah Roberts?”

  Aaron hesitated and Sarah could’ve smacked him on the back of the head for it.

  “Why do you want to know?”

  Nothing like admitting it.

  “We need to speak with her.”

  “Regarding?”

  “That’s between us and her. Is she here?”

  She could tell Aaron had no idea how to handle that question. The officers didn’t wait to hear his answer.

  “From where I’m standing, I see two wine glasses on the coffee table and the lights are low. May we come in? We need to talk to Sarah. If we don’t, more women will be tortured and die. Do you want that on your hands?”

  Chapter 6

  Kierian thought he heard his phone over the noise of the live band, but by the time he pulled it out of his pocket, the caller had hung up. He checked the call log: Clint.

  “Shit.”

  He left his half-empty beer on the bar and meandered through the tables to the door. Once inside the quieter lobby of the hotel, he redialed Clint.

  “What’s up?”

  “Why didn’t you answer when I called? What are you up to?”

  “The hotel has a live band tonight. But that doesn’t matter. Why’d you call?”

  “It does matter. Next week we change shifts. You’re doing the night and I’m doing the day.”

  “Is that why you interrupted my beer?”

  “No. Local cops are here.”

  “Why? What happened?”

  “Nothing that I can see. I haven’t taken my eyes off the apartment. A cruiser pulled up out front and three uniforms got out. All three entered the lobby, buzzed someone and walked to the elevators. I jumped out of the car to check the floor.”

  “And?”

  “They got off on the second floor. About a minute later, Aaron’s living room light went on.”

  “Have you seen anyone inside yet? Have they come to the window?”

  “No. Nothing.”

  “Okay. It could be nothing. I’ll call in and see if we can find out why they’re there. I’ll call you back.”

  Kierian hung up and found a chair in the corner by a large fake plant. He sat down and dialed his handler at the Hoover building.

  If the local cops had an interest in Sarah Roberts, he was supposed to know about it. Nothing angered him more than finding out after the fact.

  If they were there for some other reason, then he needed to know that, too.

  Nothing would get in the way of what he had to do, and no one would stop him from doing it.

  Not even the local police department.

  Chapter 7

  Sarah set the hammer down on the kitchen table and moved into the living room as Aaron let the three officers in the apartment.

  He flicked the light on and offered them a drink.

  As a unit, they ignored him and turned to her.

  “Sarah Roberts?”

  She instantly recognized the third man. He was the old cop she saw by the gate at the crisis center earlier in the day.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked. “What the hell is this?”

  Are they here to arrest Aaron thinking he’s been beating me after what I told Jennifer earlier?

  “Sarah, when I saw you this afternoon, I wanted to talk to you to find out why you’re in Toronto. Then more bodies were discovered this afternoon. Maybe that’s why you’re here.”

  She looked at the other two cops. “Do you know what he’s talking about?” She looked back at the older cop. “What happened between that woman and me today was confidential. If she revealed any of it to you, then I will claim it was all a lie.”

  She snuck a worried glance at Aaron, wishing he hadn’t come home from work early.

  “I’m not here for that. I’m Detective Alan Lyson and these are two of my constables. I’m here to ask for your help.”

  “My help?”

  “If you’re willing.”

  “I don’t work with the police.” She moved to the couch and sat down, not offering them a seat. Aaron stayed quiet behind them, still holding onto the partially open door. At least he didn’t look scared.

  “But you have worked with the police sometimes. The papers said the Las Vegas Police Department holds you in high regard for what you did for them. A man named Parkman, a former officer would vouch for you, I’m sure. Even my own Detective Waller gave you a glowing report a year ago when you dealt with the Rapturites who killed some of my men in that mall. It looks to me like you do, in fact, work with the authorities.”

  There was something creepy about someone she didn’t know reciting her bio to her.

  How the hell does everyone know so much about me?

  “We could really use your help,” Lyson added. “But we would need to speak to you privately.” He glanced at Aaron.

  “I guess you didn’t hear me right. I don’t work with the police.”

  The wrinkles on his forehead creased. “But …”

  “You may think you know me. Things you read in the papers or on the Internet look like I’m helping the police, but I’m not. Half the time I’m simply trying to stay alive. So, rely on investigative work and I’m sure you’ll catch whoever it is you’re hunting.”

  Her wine from earlier wasn’t done. She grabbed it and sipped from her glass.

  “The Toronto Police Department have worked with psychics in the past. This wouldn’t be the first time.”

  “What makes you think I’m psychic?”

  All three men’s boots dried on Aaron’s carpet near the front door. Aaron moved away from behind them and leaned against the wall beside the door.

  Lyson pulled a notepad from the breast pocket in his jacket. “According to Detective Waller,” he stared down at his pad as he talked, “you receive messages and respond to them. In your own way, the perps are either brought to justice or killed.” He looked up and stepped towards Sarah. “According to what I’ve found out online, this is true. And now I need your help.”

  “Sorry, you’ve come to the wrong girl. Time to leave.”

  The officers exchanged glances.

  “It takes a lot to come and ask this of you,” Lyson said. “I didn’t expect our reception to be so cold. Not after what Waller told me an hour ago when I called him.”

  “I’m curious. What did Waller, the man who once wanted to torture and kill me, say?”

  Lyson frowned.

  “Didn’t know that, huh?”

  Lyson said, “He told me to trust you and that you would help. If anyone could help us, it would be you.”

  “And you believe him?”

  Lyson nodded.

  “He was wrong. Please leave.”

  “You don’t even want to hear what I have to say?”

  Sarah set her glass down and stood. Aaron pushed off from the wall, his arms at his side. She had to manage this because she knew he wanted to show off for her. If he did, he would spend the night locked up in a cell.

  “What you don’t understand is that it doesn’t matter what you need from me. I don’t work that way. The door behind you is waiting. Use it. I’ve been kind, but now you’re trying my patience.”

  “Fair enough. But know this. The next murder is on you if you could’ve helped.”

  “Oh, don’t give me that bullshit. By that rationale, every murder I could’ve stopped is on my head. How do you live with that knowledge yourself? You’re sworn to protect and serve. People get hurt and die in this city, on your watch. So tell me, how do you sleep at night?” She stepped closer. “What about those girls at the crisis center? Helping them after they’re beaten and raped isn’t really help, now is it?”

  “That’s why after I’ve done a day’s work, I stop by that crisis center and volunteer my services to whoever wants to talk. We can’t save everybody, but we bloody well try
. If I could push a reset button, I would stop every scumbag before they broke the law—”

  “What. Did. You. Say?” Sarah’s hands tingled as Vivian worked through her, touching her gently, pointing her in the right direction. “About the reset.”

  “What set you off?” Lyson asked. “I’m here to ask for help, not anger you.”

  “Okay, time to leave,” Sarah said. “Out. Now.”

  Aaron pushed the door open and stepped out of the way.

  A man in a suit and tie stood in the hallway just outside the apartment door, panting heavily.

  His shoulders took up the width of the door, almost touching the doorframe sides.

  “What the fuck is this?” he asked.

  Chapter 8

  Kierian ended his call and immediately dialed Clint back.

  “Yeah, Clint here.”

  “Get up there. Remove those cops from the premises. I’m on my way.” He ran through the lobby and hit the street, almost losing his balance on the wet and slippery sidewalk.

  “Why?” Clint asked. “What happened?”

  He could hear Clint running too.

  “I called it in. There is no reason for those officers to be in that building. There is no record of their visit. It wasn’t logged or called in. Sarah has history with the Toronto Police and she could be in trouble. I’ll be there in five minutes. Get up to Aaron’s door and listen in. We have orders to break it up. If the cops give us flack, our boss is clearing it with Toronto’s police chief as we speak to have them ordered away from Sarah.”

  “Okay,” Clint said. “I’m in the building now and taking the stairs. I’ll be at her door in under a minute.”

  “I’m on my way. Don’t fuck this up. Keep Sarah safe at all costs, but if there’s trouble, use your weapon. Just don’t shoot to kill.” He crossed a street and jumped over a snowbank on the other side, almost losing his balance again. “They’re Canadian cops and we’re the FBI. The paperwork would take us years. Just keep her safe.”

  But the phone was already dead.

  Chapter 9

  “Now who the fuck are you?” Aaron asked. “Another cop who wants to use Sarah?”

  “May I come in?” the man in the suit asked.

  “No, you may not,” Aaron said. “Everyone leave. It’s time to fuck off.”

  “There’s no need for hostility,” Lyson said from behind him.

  “Okay, seriously,” Aaron said. “Sarah has made her position clear. It is time for everyone to go. We don’t need more cops coming in.”

  “I agree,” the man in the suit said.

  As Lyson and his constables moved through the door, the man in the suit stepped back to give them room. Sarah walked over to the door, wanting a better look at the new guy to see if he was one of the FBI men who’d been tailing her.

  “And who are you?” Lyson asked.

  The newcomer pulled a badge and said, “FBI, Special Agent Tower Clint.”

  A door banged hard down the hall. Everyone turned toward the noise.

  “That’s my partner,” Clint said. “Special Agent Penn Kierian.”

  Sarah edged past Aaron to watch the exchange between the men.

  “Long way from home?” Lyson asked. “You’re not even close to your jurisdiction.”

  Kierian ran up. “How come no one knows of this visit?”

  Kierian met Sarah’s eyes then looked away. She was sure of it. These two had tailed her since Vegas.

  “Why are you here?” Sarah asked before Lyson and his men could respond. “Need me for something, too?”

  “Not at the moment,” Kierian said.

  “I just finished telling Toronto’s finest that I don’t work with the cops,” Sarah said. “That means FBI as well.”

  All six men stood silent, looking at each other until Sarah spoke again.

  “How come no one’s leaving? Something left unsaid?”

  “I want to know what the FBI is doing in Toronto questioning me and my constables. And how would you know whether or not this is an official visit?”

  Kierian’s cell phone rang. He pulled it from his jacket pocket. When he did, Sarah didn’t miss the glint of light reflecting off his weapon in an inner holster by his ribcage.

  “Kierian here.” He listened for a moment, then extended his hand to Lyson. “It’s for you.”

  Lyson frowned. “Is this a joke?”

  Kierian shook his hand in the air, gesturing for Lyson to take the phone, which he did, tentatively.

  “Hello?” After a second he stood straighter. “Yes, sir. I understand, sir. Okay.” He handed the phone back to Kieran who ended the call.

  Lyson turned to his constables. “That was the Chief. We’re to exit this building immediately and not bother the American visitor, Sarah Roberts, or her Canadian friend here.” He gestured at Sarah, “Ma’am.” Then he started down the hall, his men following close.

  “Enjoy your evening,” Kierian said and backed away.

  Clint followed him.

  Aaron moved in close to her. “Aren’t you going to ask why they’re following you? It looks like they’re connected high up.”

  “Not tonight. At least not while there’s alcohol involved.”

  “Alcohol?” Aaron frowned.

  She pulled him inside the apartment and shut the door. After locking it, she sat on the couch.

  “Kierian’s been drinking,” Sarah said.

  “Why did you get all worked up about the word reset when that guy Lyson said it?”

  “You caught that?” Well done. “When I told you about the message Vivian gave me to go to that crisis center, she said it would save other women’s lives and help stop the ‘ultimate reset.’ Put it together. What that cop said about the next murder being on my head and he chose the word ‘reset,’ I figure I’m already on the right path. Without anyone knowing it, I’m already helping. Or I should say, Vivian is.”

  “You don’t think you’re stretching it a little?”

  She ignored the taunt. “Those FBI guys have some power, eh? One phone call and the top cop calls his dogs off. What the hell is that?”

  “I’d like to know what the hell is going on.”

  Sarah got up and walked toward the bedroom. “I’m going to bed to read for a couple of hours then sleep. I didn’t shop for new clothes tonight, so I need to get up early.”

  “Seriously?”

  She stopped at the corner to the hall that led to the bedroom.

  “What do you mean, seriously?”

  “You’re still going to apply for a job at a massage parlor where they perform lewd acts?”

  “Have you listened to a word I said tonight? Bumping into Lyson at the crisis center got him here tonight. The FBI came running to help. A lot has happened. I have things to think on. Vivian is orchestrating something. So of course I’m going to apply for the job tomorrow. Eleven a.m. in North York, just as she said. Nothing changes.”

  “At least let me take you. I’ll wait in the parking lot—”

  “Out of the question. And don’t follow me, either. We clear?”

  Aaron met her eyes and didn’t waver. “Fine, have it your way. You’re on your own.”

  Sarah entered the bedroom and disrobed, wondering when would be a good time to leave Aaron. This wasn’t working, nor would it.

  As long as Vivian gave her messages, she was doomed to be single.

  After the light was out, she rested her head on the pillow and stared at her Kindle. Tears wet the pillow case before she fell asleep.

  Chapter 10

  Sarah had called ahead two days ago, so they were expecting her. Massage parlors were almost always hiring and were happy to interview a newbie.

  She wore a pushup bra from Victoria Secret and a low-cut tight top. It was too cold to wear a skirt and without knowing what to expect at the parlor, so jeans would have to do. Fighting in a skirt could get things exposed too easily.

  Her instructions were simply to apply for the job. There was no way i
n hell she would ever do the job, not even an audition, if that was what these people did. Vivian just told her to apply in person at this address at this time. Vivian had done her part. Whatever came up, Sarah would do hers.