The Antagonist (A Sarah Roberts Thriller, Book 10)

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The Antagonist (A Sarah Roberts Thriller, Book 10) Page 4

by Jonas Saul


  But the statistic Sarah was most interested in was the one that ranked Kelowna as the number one city in all of Canada with the highest crime rate per capita. Something was wrong in paradise. Kelowna’s drug problems, biker gangs, murders and petty crimes were all found online for anyone to browse. There were websites devoted to stamping out crime in Kelowna. Recently, the City of Kelowna opened a John School where men who hired prostitutes could be educated on the mental and emotional damage they caused to the women they hired by the hour. Sometimes, the judge handling a solicitation charge in court would allow the charges to be dropped as long as the man graduated from John School.

  In Sarah’s research, she had located the massage parlors and the bawdy houses in Kelowna, which seemed to be doing a brisk business, unhindered by police interference.

  Kelowna was a beautiful city, but on the surface, it looked like the authorities weren’t doing enough to rid the city of its crime. She even suspected that there were police officers contributing to the problem.

  She stopped in front of the Twisted Tomato and scanned the street. People walked by, some laughed and some wore the determined look of heading somewhere important. There was the sound of a horn a block over, an engine revved, a woman’s laughter. It all made her think of Aaron. He had called earlier, but she didn’t take the call. She wasn’t ready.

  I wish you were here and this was a vacation for the two of us.

  She pulled on the door and stepped inside the restaurant. A batch of tables spread out evenly on her right. To the left, along the gold-painted wall, sat a long line of bright red—tomato red—booths. Most of the tables and booths were occupied, but near the back, a single booth sat empty.

  A young brunette in a black dress stepped up to Sarah.

  “Just one?”

  “No, I’m meeting someone in a few minutes. We’d prefer a booth.”

  “Great. There’s one open down here. Follow me.”

  Once at the table, the woman left a menu and walked away. Sarah realized she hadn’t eaten as soon as the smell from the kitchen hit her, and she picked up the menu.

  The front door opened. Another couple. The brunette was telling them there would be a five-minute wait.

  Two men sat at a table at least ten feet away. They had been watching her. Both men averted their eyes the instant she looked at them.

  She lost focus on the menu in her hands. Why had they been watching her? Did Lesley send someone to check her out first? If so, what was Lesley into that made her so paranoid?

  Sarah snuck a glance back at the men. They were chatting softly, ignoring her. One ate soup, the other a thick sandwich. It was the one with the soup that struck her as familiar in some way.

  Where would I know him from?

  She didn’t have a gun. Crossing the American/Canadian border with a sidearm would have been reckless and stupid. The Army Surplus store in town could only offer her specialized knives or dog spray. It was the kind of spray that worked on four-legged animals and two-legged animals. It seemed she encountered more two-legged animals than any other kind.

  “Ready to order?” the waitress said.

  Sarah jumped as she had been lost in her thoughts.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” the waitress said as she offered a nervous giggle. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “It’s okay. I was too focused on the menu.”

  “Are you ready or would you like me to come back?”

  “I’m waiting for someone else. When she’s here, we’ll order together.”

  “Great idea.” The waitress walked away.

  Sarah took the opportunity to check out the men again. The man with the soup was watching her and wasn’t afraid that she knew it. He slurped his spoon, his eyes boring through her.

  Then, like a plug entering a socket, she remembered where she recognized him from.

  He was one of the men who asked Barry Ashford if everything was okay yesterday on the beach when Barry was talking to Sarah.

  What’s he doing here? Coincidence or planned?

  She straightened in her seat. It couldn’t be a coincidence. She had to assume the man with the sandwich was also a cop and that they were armed.

  She couldn’t leave. What if Lesley showed up and she was gone? It wasn’t illegal for two girls to meet and talk. What could the cops possibly be doing here unless it was a coincidence?

  Would Barry ask them to spy on Lesley? If so, what did Lesley have over Barry?

  Probably what Vivian sent me to find out.

  It was moments like this that she wished Vivian were clearer. Knowing her purpose in Kelowna could embolden her and give her the leverage she needed to keep the cops at bay. She didn’t trust the police much anyway. They had to earn her trust like Parkman did all those years ago.

  Going with the fact that they were here, exactly where she was supposed to meet Lesley, who was now a few minutes late, meant they were here for more than the tasty cuisine.

  Sarah set the menu down, twisted in her seat and started to stand.

  A firm hand on her shoulder stopped her.

  Barry Ashford looked down. “Not so fast.” He cleared his throat. “It’s a busy place.” In a lower voice, he said, “Don’t make a scene or I’ll arrest you and we’ll have this conversation downtown in private.” He released her shoulder and waved a finger back and forth as if she were a naughty child. “And you don’t want to talk to me in private. It won’t bode well for you.”

  As he squeezed into the booth opposite her, she sized him up. Dressed in civilian clothes. He had a gun stashed in a shoulder holster hidden under a light brown summer jacket. He was probably packing an ankle holster as well, not to mention the guns the two men a table over were probably packing. Barry had placed his backup in the restaurant before the arranged meeting with Lesley. Sarah didn’t know Barry well yet, but she wouldn’t put it past him to beat it out of Lesley to learn about tonight’s meeting with Sarah.

  “Where’s Lesley?” Sarah asked, keeping her tone level and emotionless.

  “None of your concern.” He grabbed a small container by the salt and pepper and slid it across the table, tapped it once and pulled a toothpick out.

  “Don’t,” Sarah said as images of Parkman assailed her.

  He stopped.

  “Don’t what?”

  “Drop the toothpick.”

  He looked down at it and laughed. “Why?”

  “Set the toothpick down or I walk out of here.”

  She would not talk to him with thoughts of Parkman on her mind.

  Barry set the toothpick aside.

  “Is that your way of gaining control? Are you showing me your prowess, your feminine strength?” He smiled, enjoying his own sarcastic voice. “Because from where I’m sitting, you look like a pretty little girl, not butchy and tough.”

  “Where’s Lesley?”

  “Straight to business. I like that.” He glanced at his backup.

  “Don’t worry about them,” she said. “They’re well fed and ready if you need them. We’re talking here. Pay the fuck attention to me. Never underestimate your enemy.”

  “Whoa.” He raised his hands. “Take it easy, tough girl.” He lowered his arms to the table and placed his palms flat. “You’re in my town now, whoever you are, and I want to know why you’re here.”

  The waitress stepped into view. “Hi Barry,” she said. “I saw you wave. You guys ready to order?”

  His dead eyes never left Sarah. “I think we’ll have two coffees to start. I’ll motion for you when we need more.”

  “Nothing for me,” Sarah said, her eyes not leaving Barry’s.

  Maneuvering himself into her booth when she was expecting Lesley only motivated her to raise her antagonizing to a new level. Very soon Barry Ashford would grow to hate and despise Sarah Roberts.

  “Then just one coffee, Melissa,” Barry said. The waitress stepped away from the table. “You’re being awfully mean.”

  “Last time I’ll ask. Where�
�s Lesley?”

  “Okay, take it easy. You have no play here, but I’ll tell you.” He cleared his throat again. “She has been involuntarily committed to a seventy-two hour suicide watch at the hospital where she is undergoing therapeutic help. But the better question is, who are you and how do you know her? Or better yet, how do you know me? Yesterday you said something about knowing what I was up to.” His grin was wide enough to show pretty white teeth. “Pray tell. What the hell do you know about anything I do, stranger?”

  She weighed the odds of walking out of the Twisted Tomato without incident, but she didn’t think Barry would let that happen. He wanted to know about her so bad that he would arrest her on some trumped-up charge. Until he was satisfied, she was stuck with him, for better or worse and that angered her. Nobody held anything above her, especially not a threat.

  “Did you know a baby is born with over three hundred bones?” Sarah said. “As a full grown adult, we’re at two hundred and six bones.”

  He shook his head briefly and leaned back in his seat. “What has that got to do with anything?”

  “Just because you have a badge and you are a member of the street gang in blue does not exempt you from learning a lesson. I’m looking across the table at a man. A simple man who bleeds.” She tightened her jaw and spoke through her teeth. “If you’ve hurt Lesley in some way, I will break at least a dozen of your over two hundred bones.” She leaned across the table and rested on her elbows. Lowering her voice, she said, “See how much respect I have for your badge? Only good people who protect and serve should ever wear that badge. Not men like you.”

  She was going out on a limb, but as the antagonizer, this fit right in.

  “Threatening me? I’ve now got enough to arrest you. You’ve just made my day.”

  “Go ahead then. Arrest me, asshole. At my arraignment I’ll tell them what you’ve been up to, you piece of shit.” She saw the first nervous tic in his face. He was guilty of something. That was why he was here and Lesley wasn’t. “You are so stupid. You should be thinking of ways to silence me, not bring me to the Queen’s nest with the bee poison. I thought I was sitting across the table from a schooled man, a learned man. You’re nothing but a joke with a badge who needs his friends to back him up at a meeting with a little girl like me.” She shook her head and looked down at her hands. “Wow, did I ever overestimate you.”

  He didn’t speak for a moment. Before he had a chance to respond, the waitress brought his coffee. She set it down and walked away. He dropped Aspartame-laced sweetener in his coffee and added cream.

  “Aspartame and bovine growth hormone,” Sarah said. “Bad mix.”

  “What?”

  “Bovine growth hormone has been linked to the increase in breast cancer and prostate cancer in recent years. Aspartame is horrible for … anyway, doesn’t matter here. Drink up.”

  “Okay, let’s stop with the games,” Barry said. “Who are you and what do you want?”

  “You’ll find out soon enough.”

  “No. I need to know what’s going on.” He finished stirring his coffee and lifted it to his lips, covering his mouth. “And you’re going to tell me or I will arrest you and you won’t make it to the police station for your interrogation. You’ll learn a private lesson from an experienced Kelowna cop. Would you like that?”

  He said the last part behind his coffee cup so no one could read his lips, and he spoke quietly enough that his backup couldn’t even hear him.

  “It doesn’t matter what I say to you right now. You will keep on doing it until you’re caught. You’re like a fucking caterpillar.”

  “A what?” He set his coffee cup down. “A caterpillar?”

  “If you place caterpillars on a circular path, they continue walking in circles until they die. That’s you. The only difference is you set yourself on your own circular path. You set yourself up. Once you started, you can’t stop and it’s going to kill you.”

  He narrowed those dead eyes of his. “Oh, you think you’re so smart. So tell me, Miss Smarty Pants, what am I doing that’ll kill me?”

  “The fact that you came here today tells me so much about you. You’re afraid of me. You wanted this setting, a public restaurant, with backup—” she glanced at the two men eating soup and a sandwich and gave them the finger, “—because you’re too afraid to take me downtown to talk.” She turned back to Barry. “If they found out what you’ve been up to …” She let her voice trail off.

  He sipped his coffee again. She tried to see if his hands were shaking, but they weren’t.

  “You thought you could bully me, harass me,” Sarah continued. “But all you’ve done is confirmed my suspicions. You know,” she waved a finger at him, “you shouldn’t overthink this. Just roll with it, because I’m not going away.”

  “All these subtle threats. Just tell me what you want and stop dancing around with bullshit.”

  “You have over analyzed this situation because you’re afraid of what would happen if you weren’t prepared, but you didn’t expect something.”

  She had his full attention. He stared at her with those empty eyes, his hands wrapped around the mug of coffee.

  “What didn’t I expect?”

  “Me.” She leaned on her elbows. “People will hate you, try to break you, and shake your will. How strong you stand is what makes you. In the darkness, even your own shadow leaves you. I never depend on anyone but myself.” She leaned back and dropped her arms to her side. Slowly, without moving her upper arm, she pulled the dog spray out of her pocket and flipped the safety off the top, then rested her thumb on the button, ready to shoot the spray. “You see, Barry Ashford, you’re a problem for me and sometimes the best way to solve a problem is to stop caring. Right now, I don’t care about you at all, which makes me extremely dangerous. Not only do I not trust cops, I fucking hate them. So there’s that, too.”

  They stared at each other. She waited for him to make a move, say something, or leave. But he just stared back at her with no expression.

  “Fuck you.” She pushed out of the booth. “I’m leaving.”

  Out of the corner of her eye she caught the subtle movement of his head. He had nodded to his backup.

  The two men pushed out their chairs and rushed her.

  “Hey, who are you?” she yelled loud enough for all the patrons to hear. “Get off me,” she shouted louder. By now the entire restaurant turned to face them. Neither man had identified themselves as police officers. One of them was pinning her arm behind her back while the other was trying to secure the arm with the dog spray.

  She screamed for help as they pushed and started to drag her toward the back of the restaurant. As she brought the spray around and aimed it over her shoulder at one of their faces, she caught Barry sipping his coffee as if he hadn’t noticed what was happening two feet away.

  As she released the spray, the man holding her arm howled and let go as he fell to the floor, clutching at his face.

  Sarah sprayed the other man from less than a foot away. For the benefit of the public who sat transfixed by the violence, Sarah shouted, “That’ll teach you for trying to manhandle me.” A harried, scared look on her face, she viewed the other patrons to make sure they saw a small, terrified girl.

  “Put it down,” Barry said loud enough to be heard over the wounded cries of his colleagues.

  He had a police issue sidearm aimed at her. She dropped the dog spray.

  “Oh, good,” Sarah said. “The police. I want to press charges. Those two men tried to kidnap me.”

  “I saw the whole thing,” a man added from the next booth.

  A bearded man, three booths up, nodded his head. “I saw it too.” He had a cell phone in his hand.

  “Those men on the floor are police officers,” Barry shouted.

  “What?” Sarah said, trying to look confused. “Then why didn’t they identify themselves before they tried to haul me into the back room? Am I under arrest or something?”

  A few of
the patrons had gotten to their feet, but hadn’t moved any closer. They probably wouldn’t while Barry held a gun.

  “You are now. Turn around and assume the position. Hands on your head.”

  “On what charge?”

 

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