by Jonas Saul
“I came earlier and they wouldn’t let me take my sister.”
“She’s back already? After what happened a few days ago?”
He nodded. “And I know for a fact that she doesn’t want to be here.” He looked down at the bat. “What’s that for?”
“Anyone who gets in my way. Let’s get Lesley out together. Follow me.”
Sarah hid the bat behind her right leg and headed along the side of the building to the front door. Without knowing for sure why she had to be here, Sarah had to assume it was for Barry. His car was parked out front and it hadn’t moved since she tracked it on her cell phone.
Officer Ashford had to be her target. He ran her off the road. Cop or no cop, he was running a massage parlor and doing something called flash blooding. He was also holding Lesley Wright against her will.
The carpet in her basement was pulled back. The chair was in place. Even the camera was aimed at the chair. With Sarah’s basement ready for an interrogation, it was time to abduct Officer Ashford and lock him up in her cellar. Sarah would take Barry out and Greg could take his sister.
If anyone tried to stop them, they would have to deal with her friend, the aluminum bat.
She opened the front doors and walked in. Greg stayed outside for some reason, fidgeting with his pants.
Two girls sat on a couch. They both stared at her, then glanced at the bat. A large man stood beside the couch, leaning against the wall. He looked past her at Greg. His eyes widened and his mouth formed a circle.
“Where’s Barry Ashford?” Sarah asked. She jerked her head back in a quick motion at Greg. “And where’s his sister?”
Both girls checked her out. They looked her up and down as if she was applying for a job. To get their attention, she raised the bat and brought it down in the center on the small counter to her left. The counter cracked and the lamp bounced and fell over. One of the girls let out a small scream.
Barry would probably be armed. A quick glance down the hallway confirmed it was still empty.
“Answer the lady,” Greg said from behind her.
She turned to look at Greg. He held a Smith and Wesson in his shaking hands.
“What’s that for?” she asked.
“Anyone who gets in my way. I’m leaving with my sister.”
“Well, that changes things.” Sarah lowered the bat and moved closer to the tall man. Both girls sank deeper into the sofa at the sight of Greg’s gun.
“Where is Barry Ashford and Greg’s sister?”
When no one answered her, Sarah turned to Greg, “Shoot this one first.” She pointed at the large man. When his attention was on Greg, she swung the bat sideways and whacked the side of his right knee. He grunted and crumpled to the floor, where he curled into a ball. Teeth squeezed tight, lips back, he breathed in and out through his mouth as his face turned beet red.
Sarah rested the bat on her shoulder and looked down at the two girls on the sofa.
“He might not,” she gestured at Greg, “but I hit girls. Either one of you want to spend a week in the hospital or would you rather tell me where Barry and Lesley are?”
The brunette pointed down the hall. “Room four. The door’ll be locked. He told us to not let anyone disturb him.”
“Perfect.” She turned to Greg. “Let’s go disturb him.”
She ran down the hall and tried the knob.
Locked.
To break the lock with the bat would take too long.
She whispered to Greg. “Shoot into the knob here. But angle it down so you don’t hit anyone who might be close to the door. With your nerves it might take a few tries.”
Greg got into position after Sarah walked around behind him.
The sound of the gun firing in the small hallway was deafening. Greg pulled the trigger three times, then jumped sideways and body checked the door.
It flew inward on its hinges and smacked the wall, with Greg almost losing his balance as he stumbled inside. He smacked into a table and dropped the gun. Sarah was close behind, her bat up and ready.
When Sarah took in the sight, she was happy that the gun was still not in Greg’s hand, otherwise he probably would’ve shot Barry where he stood.
Barry was in his underwear, holding Lesley’s arm, a needle protruding from her flesh. She was naked, lying on her stomach with something shiny plastered all over her rear end.
What had Barry been doing to her? Or had they arrived in time because he was still in his underwear?
“Step away from her,” Sarah said.
“And what if I don’t?”
Greg collected himself. The gun was still on the floor, near the base of the small table.
“I will murder you with my bare hands,” Greg managed to say, “if you have done anything to my sister.”
“What? Like this?”
He plunged the needle into Lesley’s arm.
“NO!” Greg yelled and dove at Barry.
It looked like the needle was fully plunged before Greg tackled Barry to the floor.
Lesley writhed on the bed in the throes of the drug.
Sarah reached down and retrieved the gun. She leveled it and fired toward the base of the shower. The stall’s glass door shattered in an ear-splitting cadence. Both men stopped grappling on the floor and looked at her.
“Get up or I will shoot you in the forehead.”
Barry scrambled to his feet.
“Greg, your sister needs you. Wrap something around her and put her in your car. Get her to the nearest hospital fast, or you might lose her.”
Greg punched Barry in the face. Then he rolled away, grabbed the negligee on the floor and wrapped it around Lesley who started to shake on the table. He lifted her off the bed, his strong arms flexing as if he curled women at the gym all the time.
He ran by Sarah and said, “Thanks.”
Sarah pulled the twist ties from her pocket and tossed them at Barry. They landed at his bare feet. “Put one of these on your wrists.”
“I’m an officer of the law. A member of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police force and you are—”
She turned slightly and fired into the baseboard behind his leg. He jumped like a startled cat.
“That was the last warning shot,” she said. “The next one opens you up. Now tie your wrists or test me again.”
With a hand on the bed, he got to his feet. He leaned over and picked up the ties. After fumbling with one of them for a second, he managed to get it around his wrists, but couldn’t find the right angle to tighten it.
Sarah reached in and grabbed the exposed length and pulled. The tie slid tight, locking his wrists together. With the gun pressing into the naked flesh of his stomach, she bent down and grabbed his shirt.
“Turn around.”
Once his back was to her, she draped the shirt over his head and tied the arms of it together as best as she could around his neck. It was tight enough to stay on his head, but not tight enough to strangle him.
“Follow my lead. Fuck around and I’ll shoot you. Got it.”
He nodded.
The gun in her right hand, she guided him out of the room with her left. They walked up the hallway unobstructed. In the front foyer, the two girls were gone. The big man she had whacked with the baseball bat was still on the floor. It was possible she had hit him harder than she thought and now he had trouble walking.
“Nate?” Barry said from under his shirt. “Hey, Nate, you there?”
The big guy on the floor didn’t respond.
Sarah nudged Barry to keep going. They continued for the door. As she got there, a thin man, gray hair and aging, opened it. He stopped to let Sarah and Barry exit.
The guy frowned when he saw Barry in his underwear with a shirt wrapped around his head. Then his eyes lit up on the gun jammed into Barry’s side.
“Fetish thing,” Sarah said. “Got to keep it as real as possible.” She smiled at the man holding the door as she walked by him.
He shrugged. “Whatever flo
ats your boat.”
“She’s lying,” Barry said. “Help me.”
Sarah shrugged back at the man by the door. “Authentic, eh?”
The man walked inside and closed the door behind him.
“Come on, asshole.” Sarah pushed Barry to walk faster.
“Ouch,” he said as his bare feet stumbled along the pavement. “What are you doing? Kidnapping me?”
She popped the tailgate. “Get in.” She shoved him hard.
He banged his head and dropped to the floor of the Jeep where he curled up and moaned, covering the side of his head with his bound hands.
Sarah shut the back door and ran around to the front seat. Just before starting the Jeep, she saw the two girls from the couch. They were standing at the edge of the parking lot. They were probably waiting for the police, but had decided to wait outside since Greg had come in packing a gun.
It looked like the blonde one smiled and nodded at Sarah.
They’re probably happy someone is finally taking the garbage out.
“We’re going for a little ride,” Sarah said, loud enough for Barry to hear. “If you take that shirt off your head, I will kill you in the bush, use a saw to dismember your body and leave you as dinner for the wildlife in the area. Are we clear?”
“Yes,” was the mumbled reply.
Sarah started the Jeep and pulled out of the parking lot. She hoped Lesley was going to be okay. If Lesley didn’t overdose, she would never have to worry about Barry Ashford again.
No one would have to worry about Barry Ashford ever again.
Sarah was sick and tired of men like Barry who did what they wanted and got away with it because they were part of the street gang in blue. The gang that wore badges. Sure, there were good cops, but bad ones were the only kind Sarah was interested in, and she had a live one in her Jeep.
All she had to do was hurt him until he broke and told her everything that Vivian had sent her to antagonize out of him.
Then maybe this task would be over. But Vivian had said Barry was the barnacle on a ship and that Sarah was here for something much darker.
What could be darker than raping drugged girls?
Chapter 18
Sarah arrived home without interruption. No one was searching for her in a brand new Jeep. She backed into her driveway so the tailgate would open in privacy. The only neighbor was Barry’s wife, Deborah, and Sarah didn’t want to take any chances.
She turned the vehicle off and waited, listening to the sound of the engine ticking as it cooled.
“Where are we?” Barry asked.
“In fuck you land.”
“Oh, I get it. You’re not going to tell me?”
“No, I’m not going to tell you.”
Sarah got out and looked at the Ashford’s house. Deborah’s car wasn’t in the driveway.
Maybe she parked it in the garage.
They had one room that extended to the edge of their property. This was the room Debbie watched Sarah from the night she arrived to meet the landlords. It was the only room that could see Sarah’s driveway clearly.
The drapes remained still. As far as Sarah could tell, no one stood in the window, peeking out.
At the front door to her house, she unlocked it and left it standing wide open. Then she ran back to the Jeep, popped the tailgate and helped Barry out.
“Don’t try to be a hero,” she said. “I’ve still got the gun.”
“Seriously? How do you expect to get away with this? You are kidnapping a member of the RCMP. Are you aware of the jail sentence attached to something like this?”
“I don’t think about things like that. If I did, it would stop me in my tracks. I would end up living in a remote cabin, writing messages on the walls and repainting over them again and again. If I worried about the authorities, I’d lose my sanity.”
She pushed him through the front door and slammed it shut behind her. With a firm grip on his arm, she led him toward the stairs.
“Where are we going?” he asked.
She didn’t answer. At the top of the stairs, she turned him.
“Stairs,” she instructed. “Going down. Take one at a time.”
He tried to turn around, his bound hands flailing for the wall. “No, I can’t go in a basement.”
“Why not?”
“I hate basements. I just don’t do basements.”
She put a hand on his chest. “You’re going down on your feet or your ass. After what I caught you doing to Lesley, you think I care about whether you like basements or not? Now turn around and walk or I will shove you down.”
He rested his forehead against the wall. “Please. Don’t.”
“Down. Now.”
In slow motion, he turned, tested the step with his toes, and moved down one. Then another. The going was slow, but at least he was going.
Three steps from the bottom, visibly shaking, he stopped and placed his right shoulder against the wall.
“I can’t. I just can’t go any farther.”
Sarah slipped Greg’s gun in the back of her pants. Open palmed, she shoved Barry off the third step. He was low enough to miss clipping his head on the slanted roof, but he couldn’t stay on his feet. He dropped the last three steps and sprawled on the floor.
Barry Ashford was always in charge. He wore the badge. No one ever touched him inappropriately. Because of that, Sarah needed to break him. She needed to touch, prod, punch and smack as much as possible.
“Hey, you don’t want to do this,” he yelled from the floor. He grabbed at the shirt tied around his neck, trying to loosen it.
Sarah let him. He was in her basement now and his hands were still tied. She had the gun. It didn’t matter if he could see now.
She pulled the gun out and aimed it at the floor. Barry fought with the shirt until it lifted above his eyes. Then it was off completely and he lay on the floor, naked but for his underwear, nipples erect in response to the cold tiles.
His head swiveled around, taking in the basement. “Where are we?”
“Get on the chair.” She pointed at the chair in the center of the cement floor.
When he looked back at her, his eyes were wide, rimmed in red. “You can’t be serious. You’re going to interrogate me?”
She tapped the gun with her free hand and extended her arm to aim it at him. “Listen to me when I talk and do what I say. Get in the chair.”
While he hesitated, Sarah wondered if the sound of the gun going off would attract anyone. Since Deborah was the closest neighbor, and her car wasn’t in the driveway, there was a high chance no one would hear the gun. But what if she was home and her car was just in the garage? Would she hear it and call the police?
Sarah squeezed her trigger finger, still debating if this was a good idea.
Barry decided for her. He moved, edging along the floor toward the chair. Once in the chair, he sat facing her.
“Now what?” he asked.
“Use the duct tape. Wrap your ankles to the front legs of the chair.” She walked across the basement and leaned against the wall at least seven feet from him. From this distance she would get a shot off before he could tackle her if he tried. “No protesting. Just do it.”
He grabbed the tape easily as his hands were tied in front and began the task of securing himself to the chair.
“I was saying earlier how much trouble this could lead to.” He bit the end of the tape and tore it, wrapping the rest around his right ankle. Then he started on the left. “So why are you doing this? The trouble you’re in will be unavoidable. You will never recover.” He did three circles around his left ankle, bit the tape and finished. It looked like a pretty good job considering his hands were tied. He sat up straight and glared at her, his face red from the exertion. “You’re not going to kill me. We both know that. Nobody kidnaps and kills cops. So why are you doing this? What’s it all for? What’s your end game?”
She pushed off the wall and approached him. When she put her hand out, he pl
aced the tape in it. After securing the gun back in her pants, she pulled out a long strip of tape and attached it to his chest. Then, going in circles around him, she strapped him to the chair, immobilizing him until someone came with scissors. Even the tops of his arms were locked down with his chest. He was now limited to the least amount of mobility.
“When you die,” Sarah said, “the things you do for yourself die with you. But the things you do for others live on as your legacy.”
