by Jonas Saul
“It’s amazing how fast they got to Sarah,” Aaron said. “No one knew she was alive until only a week ago.”
“Sarah called me once she got on Canadian soil again. She told me she was going to surprise you at that dinner at The Keg.”
“Oh shit.”
“Exactly. They decided to hurt Sarah in some way to make me do it. They had a letter saying so in my handwriting and they had my gun. They followed my every move and finally, once I escaped their tail, or at least thought I did, I came here to warn Sarah.”
“Let me get this straight,” Joffrey interjected. “Are you saying they used your gun on Sarah, made you write the letter that was in your jacket, followed you to Toronto and shot her, just so you could take the fall?”
“Yes, that’s what I’m saying. But add that they expertly waited for the Jaguar to drive by so I would think the shooter was in the car and attack an innocent party. That should at least get me jail time. They had this planned from day one. I either do what the client says, or go down hard. Although, the more I think about it, the more I don’t think they intended to hit Sarah. They don’t need me. Maybe they thought they could recruit her.”
“Why not just use the shooter to deal with the husband? Why not leave you out of it?”
“I did as much research on the family as I could. Their daughter is a seventeen-year-old marksman. One of the best at the range she shoots at. My guess is she was the shooter, but mommy won’t ask her daughter to go after daddy. Might cloud her judgment at the last minute. My guess is mommy hasn’t told the daughter everything.”
“That’s a lot of guessing,” Joffrey said. “Especially that a seventeen-year old would follow you across the country just to fire a warning shot.”
“I don’t know what else to think.”
The door opened. A nurse pushing an empty stretcher entered. “Oh, I’m sorry, I thought this room wasn’t being used.” She picked up a clipboard and scanned the page on it.
“It’s empty,” Joffrey said. “We were just leaving.”
All three men filed past the stretcher and headed back to the waiting area.
“I’ll find Doctor Jacob to see if he has anything new,” Aaron said.
“We cool?” Parkman asked the detective.
“For now,” Joffrey said. “Sarah’s and your reputation here in Toronto has bought you the benefit of the doubt. I’m going to want to look at this client of yours soon, though.”
Parkman wondered how that would look for his business. The public wouldn’t ever hear the inner details. All they’d see is that his agency has an open book policy on who hires him.
In the waiting room, a younger doctor was just finishing up with an older woman and man, assuring them that their daughter was going to pull through.
Parkman moved past Aaron and waited until the doctor was free, then stepped in. “Hey, doc, you think you could get Doctor Jacob out here to let us in on Sarah’s progress? Maybe we could get to see her soon?”
The young doctor frowned. “Who are you asking about? A lot of our doctors just did a morning shift change.”
“Doctor Jacob. That’s his office right there.” Parkman pointed at the brown door twenty feet away.
“You must be mistaken. That’s Doctor Alvarez’s office.”
The young doctor stepped away but Parkman grabbed his arm. “One second.”
The doctor looked down at Parkman’s hand, then back up to meet his eyes. “I have rounds to do.”
“I understand, but I asked you about Doctor Jacob. Have you seen him?”
“I haven’t even heard of him. I’ve been here for seven years and there’s no Doctor Jacob on staff that I know of.”
Fear gripped Parkman’s stomach and his knees felt like they would unhinge. How much more could he take? And what could Violeta be up to now?
“What about Sarah Roberts? She’s a gunshot victim, brought here about six hours ago. Can you find out what her condition is and let us know? We would like to see her.”
The doctor flipped a couple of pages on his clipboard and looked back up. Joffrey and Aaron were crowding them now.
“Maybe check with admitting. She must’ve been moved.”
“Moved? How’s that? She was in surgery.”
“I don’t know, but on my rounds, there’s no Sarah Roberts here and no gunshot victims were brought in during the previous six hours. I’m sorry, but according to these pages,” he held up the clipboard, “the name Sarah Roberts isn’t on them.”
Chapter 13
Violeta made her decision. She wasn’t sure if the Greeks would come through for her. She wasn’t sure if Sarah would be alive or not. There were too many unknowns. Having her daughter feeling alienated wouldn’t serve her at the moment. She needed as many allies in her camp as she could get.
She knocked on Tam’s bedroom door. “Honey? Can I come in?”
This was a disgusting formality. Violeta only ever asked if she could enter when she needed Tam on her side. Everything was negotiation, closing the sale. There was nothing else. This was her house. If she wanted to enter a room at will, she would. It didn’t matter who was behind the door or what they were doing. But in this case, she needed Tam to be receptive and ready to make up for her failure.
“Tam?”
“Yes, Momma?”
“May I come in?” Violeta asked. She shook her hands to get the nasty feeling of having to ask off her skin. It just felt wrong.
“Yes, come in.”
When she opened the door, Tam was at her desk, drawing pictures.
“What are you drawing?” Violeta asked.
“Landscapes. My usual.”
“Can I see?”
Tam set her pencil crayon down and moved far enough to the side for her mother to look over her shoulder. The picture was of a farmhouse surrounded by a white picket fence. In the background sat a red barn. To the right of the barn, Tam had drawn the base of a gallows with a hangman’s noose above it.
“Why do you obsess over the Salem witch trials?”
“It’s a fascinating time in our history. When I was in Toronto, I thought of heading down to Danvers, Massachusetts, where some of the famous trials took place. It’s called Danvers now, but back then, in 1692, it was called Salem Village.”
“That’s nice, Tam. Maybe next time you’re on that side of the continent you could tour those areas.” She cleared her throat and moved back from Tam a few steps. “There’s something I want to talk to you about.” Violeta moved farther, into the center of the room, spread her feet and crossed her arms, tilting her head back just enough to look down her nose at her daughter.
Tam placed her picture in the middle of her desk and set her pencil crayons to the side, then twisted in her chair to face her mother. “Yes, Momma?”
“How would you like to regain your honor with me?”
“I would love that very much, Momma. I’m not your enemy, even if I make a mistake.”
“Let me decide who my enemies are and who aren’t. Making a mistake as profound as this one could have, and still might, hurt this family deeply. Which ultimately hurts me. And what are enemies good at? Hurting their adversaries. So understand, your actions are grave and could have long-lasting ramifications.”
“I understand and I’m sorry, Momma. What can I do to fix it?”
“Locate Sarah’s parents.”
“What?”
“They reside here in Santa Rosa. I caught something in the news a while back about there being a supposed attack on her parents, but they were dealt with in time.” Even though Violeta knew about Caleb and Amelia Roberts, Sarah’s parents, from the bug in Parkman’s home phone, she figured the lie of hearing about them on the news would convince Tam. “After that, her parents sold their house and moved here. According to one of the Sarah Roberts fan website, someone heard that her parents live somewhere in Santa Rosa.”
“Really, right here in our city?” Tam looked surprised.
“That would make sen
se as Parkman is a long-time family friend,” Violeta added for Tam’s benefit. “He moved here about that same time and started his agency. So I think they’re here and I want you to find them. Once you do that, report back to me. But you have to do it quietly. If anyone discovers what you’re doing, you will have failed me again. In order to regain your standing with me, you have to do it alone. The only resource I will offer you is money. You don’t get any outside help. Understood?”
“Understood.”
“I will give you two days to locate them and two more days to inform me of some of their daily routines, providing they actually do live in Santa Rosa. Agreed?”
“But, how do I go about—”
“Figuring it out is your job. Are you willing to do what it takes to make it in this family?” She raised her voice. “Are you willing to regain your honor?”
“Yes, Momma.”
“Say it.”
“I agree to the task you have set for me and I am doing it to regain my honor with you.”
“You won’t fail?”
A twitch had started under Tam’s left eye. Violeta wondered for a brief second if her daughter hated her and was only speaking the words to placate her. Then she discarded the idea. Tam knew her well enough to not go against her. Tam would end up dead in a river somewhere with her hands, feet and head removed if she ever had mutinous, rebellious ideas against her mother.
“I won’t fail, Momma.”
Violeta clicked her heels and stomped from the room.
Tam’s voice trailed her. “When should I start?”
“Start now. Get it done. Don’t let me down again. Locate Sarah Roberts’s parents because I have a special message for them.” She laughed and added to herself, “One they can take to their grave.”
Chapter 14
Captain Kostas entered the corridor that led to the station’s holding cells. He paused in the doorway, rubbed his chin and wondered how he should handle this delicate situation.
Could Oliver be trusted after what Kostas’s men had done to him?
“Open up Oliver Payne’s cell,” he called out in Greek.
The door’s lock clicked. Kostas moved to the door and opened it. Oliver lay sprawled on the floor. He rolled his head toward Kostas, blinked twice, then rolled his head away.
Kostas retreated, moved down the hall and grabbed two chairs from the front office without locking Oliver’s prison door. Oliver wouldn’t try to run, especially not with that nasty limp.
When he returned, Oliver hadn’t moved.
He set the chairs on the floor, one beside Oliver and one by the open door.
“Get up,” Kostas said. “We have to talk.”
Oliver stretched his legs and adjusted his hands on his stomach, but didn’t move or attempt to get up. Kostas leaned back in his chair and waited. After a minute, he decided to start talking.
“I just talked to your wife—”
“Ex-wife,” Oliver interjected.
“Right, ex-wife. We have a problem.”
“Don’t you mean I have a problem?” Oliver swiveled his head to look at Kostas. “Are you here to kill me or let me go?”
“Neither.”
The Oliver that Kostas had met coming out of the taxi on the edge of Agios Adrianos had been replaced by a demure soul, capitulating to the negative, allowing his darkest thoughts to overcome him. He had entered Kostas’s life as an American wishing to resolve the lost passport conflict. He had answers, solutions. But within twelve hours, Oliver had turned into a dejected waif.
“What did she do to you?” Kostas asked, bewilderment in his voice.
Oliver rolled over, got a knee under him and lifted up off the floor to sit on the chair. He stretched, twisted, and settled into the metal chair before addressing Kostas.
“If you only knew,” he whispered, barely loud enough to hear.
It reminded Kostas of the words spoken from a man on death row. Or a man about to go to prison for decades.
“How many women have you raped?” Kostas asked.
Oliver frowned and leaned back in the chair. “She lied if she told you that I had raped someone.”
“You raped your daughter.”
Oliver’s face changed, his brow wrinkled. He leaned forward, elbows to thighs, and rested his face in his hands.
“That’s the information I received,” Kostas said. “That was why my men were rough with you. We don’t take kindly to that sort of thing.”
Oliver didn’t respond.
“Your ex-wife has asked me to send you home.”
Oliver looked up and met his eyes. “That’s beyond your realm of duties. I’m not a lost puppy. Yes, you can deport me, but I choose to fly to the UK.”
“You’re expected to be flown home as a cripple.” Kostas paused to let it sink in. “Your wife has offered a handsome sum to break your legs and if that doesn’t work, to break your spine and send you home paralyzed.”
Tears crept down Oliver’s cheeks. Kostas could only imagine what Oliver was going through.
“Do you understand what your ex-wife has ordered here? She wants you paralyzed for the rest of your life. My goodness, man, what did you do to that woman to generate such hatred?”
“I’ll never be rid of that evil woman, will I?” Oliver wiped his cheeks and then rubbed his hands on his pants. “If you do what she’s asking, my life will be ruined, over.”
“You needn’t worry, Mr. Payne, we will not take part in paralyzing you. But I am a man of justice and I will do whatever it takes to seek it. When I heard you had raped your daughter and fled your country to escape justice, you angered me and my men. Knocking you down was as far as we were willing to go, but trust me, I wanted to hurt you somewhat worse.” Kostas got up, spun his chair around and sat back down, resting his forearms on the back of the chair. “Because I seek justice in a world without much of it, I have a proposal for you. But I need to know I can trust you.”
Oliver seemed to think it over. Then Kostas realized he was trying to find his voice in a world where he was lost, abandoned and about to be crushed.
“Go … ahead.”
“I want you to get in a wheelchair, cover your legs in a blanket, and fly home in a few days under doctor’s care. I’ll have a female police officer fly with you, posing as your nurse.”
“Why would you do that? Wait, why would I do that?”
“For the sake of justice. I get what I want and you get what you want.”
“I’m listening.”
“I will need the money your ex-wife is offering my police station to perform her dirty deed. It will cover costs for myself, my officer who would travel with you, and other payments that may arise due to our arrangement. She has requested pictures of my compliance. Once the pictures are sent to Violeta and the money transferred to my account, I will have proof of her illegal act and her full intent to cause you grievous bodily harm. I will then produce a full written statement in English describing all of my actions and the actions of my men for your authorities in the States. My officer will protect you when you land in Los Angeles and I will already have informed the authorities there of what is going on. If you are okay with this, I would like to get started immediately.”
“In order for this to work,” Oliver said, “you wouldn’t be able to keep the money she sent you.”
“I understand that. She is sending one amount to the police station as a donation. The other amount goes to my personal account. It is the one that in my personal account that I will surrender. The donation is just that, a donation. That is the money I will keep and use. You only need one money trail to make this work.”
Oliver wept quietly, without sobs. “Why would you do this?”
“I have an ex-wife. We have two boys. She has always allowed me access without question even though our relationship failed miserably. I have seen those boys thrive because of our mutual support and love. My ex-wife may hate me, but she has not taken it out on the boys. What your ex-wife is doing isn
’t just criminal, it’s barbaric. And had it not been me, she may have gotten away with it. Had it not been me, you could very possibly have been paralyzed by now. This is your chance to have her arrested for her crimes and your chance to move on with your life in peace without having to hide from her. Will you agree to my terms?”
