by Jonas Saul
Parkman turned to him. “You don’t know Sarah. This is her way of showing she’s happy to see me. If she wasn’t, she’d attack the bars trying to get at me. She’s quite the girl. I’ve never met a tougher person in my life. And that goes for cops. What she’s been through—”
“Hey!” Sarah yelled. “Enough. If you’ve come to get me out then let’s do this. But don’t come down here and treat these men with fictitious stories of bravery. Anything I’ve been through in my life any other person could’ve done.” She stopped, stepped forward and raised her index finger as if testing the air. “This isn’t Sarah Day, is it? Because if this is Sarah Day, someone should’ve told me.”
All three men stared at her. Imre still held the keys in his hand. No one moved.
Finally Parkman bumped Imre’s arm. He jolted and mumbled something.
After trying two keys, Imre got the cell door open and beckoned for Sarah to follow them. They left the dank basement cells behind, processed her paperwork and gave her luggage to Parkman.
“Where will you be staying before your plane leaves?” Imre asked.
“Back to the Best Western for another night and then we’re gone.”
“Don’t deviate.” Imre warned.
The immigration officer was strangely quiet the whole time. When Sarah got to the exit doors she turned back and looked directly at him for a moment. The look on his face was brutal and told her a story. She was only twenty feet away from him and she could see absolute fury on his face. Something was definitely wrong. He couldn’t just hate her because of her reputation. She’d done nothing personally to him. But that couldn’t be right. This ran deep. This was personal for him. He had a stake in her somehow and Sarah was determined to find out what it was before she left Hungary.
Outside in Parkman’s car, he turned to her and asked, “You hungry?”
“Sure, since we’re in Hungary, let’s be Russian to Turkey and…” She looked up at him. He wasn’t smiling. “Okay, I know, juvenile, but when I was a kid it was funny.”
“You were a kid once?”
He put the rental in gear and pulled away from the curb.
“What happened? What did you do? You know how hard it was for me to get you out of there?”
Sarah shook her head.
“Hard.”
“Oh,” was all she said.
“At first they said they had all these charges and then after a little scrutiny I found out they actually had nothing on you. They couldn’t even find the gun they claim you stole off one of their cops last night. They had no proof but I still had to threaten to bring in American lawyers from the embassy. I explained that holding you would create an international incident. Which one of them would want to lose their jobs first, I asked them. For a minute I thought I would be arrested myself. It was Imre who relented. That immigration officer was a prick all the way. Did you do anything specific to him?”
Sarah leaned forward and pulled down the sun visor as the setting summer sun was coming straight in at her.
Parkman looked over. “What’s that smell?”
“Urine.”
“You piss yourself?”
“No. The prison cell was covered in piss.”
“Oh. Great.”
He lowered his window a little and spit the toothpick in his mouth out into the road. He looked over again. “It started to taste like piss.”
“You know what piss tastes like?” She smiled.
“Glad to see you’ve got your humor.”
“How come you’re here? And why did you vouch for me?” she asked.
“Oh, hey, thanks. You know, I could’ve left you there.”
“How could you get here so fast? It’s a ten hour flight. They put me in that cell two hours ago.”
“After I met with your dad I decided to come out here and find out what you were up to. I took a leave of absence. I’ve been in Budapest for about two weeks. It wasn’t until today that I found out where you were.”
“You serious?”
“Yes.”
“They knew where I was the whole time.”
“I don’t have their resources. Remember, this isn’t my jurisdiction. They aren’t going to let just anyone in on their investigations because I’m a cop.” He paused and looked sideways at her again. “Wait, what do you mean they knew where you were?”
“They’ve been watching me. They know everything about me. Even my issues with hair-pulling from years ago.”
“But why? As far as anyone in Europe should know, you’re just an American girl traveling within the Schengen Area. You get up to three months in the Schengen Area without a problem on your American passport.”
“They’ve been following me and watching me, but from afar. I’ve been here for over a month and I just found out. They’re good. Too good. I need to find out why.”
“Oh no. We have to leave Budapest. Every day you stay here is ammunition for them.”
Parkman turned onto a busy street, dropped the Opel into a lower gear, ground the gear and then hit the gas, shooting them forward. He eased it back into third and cruised again.
“Sorry, not used to the stick shift. Couldn’t rent an automatic for the prices they were asking. At least not on my salary.”
“What are you doing here? Seriously. I do appreciate being out of jail, but why come in the first place?”
“You have an uncanny ability to find trouble. I think sometimes you need backup.”
“I do pretty good on my own.”
“I know. But ask yourself. What would’ve happened if I didn’t follow those leads to the compound a few months back? Your wrist was broken. You had hair missing and you were shot and bleeding.”
“The hair was my doing so that doesn’t count.”
They stopped talking. He looked at her sideways. She avoided his gaze.
A few blocks from the hotel, Parkman pulled up at a pizza take-away joint. Hungarian pizza took some getting used to but Sarah devoured her slices without thought of quality.
“Thanks,” she said.
He looked up at her and nodded.
“No, I mean thanks for being there for me. You know I appreciate it. I’m just no good at letting people know it.”
He slowed his chewing and looked up at her. With a mouthful he mumbled a you’re welcome.
Back in the car, Parkman turned away from the Best Western and drove deeper into the city center.
“Where are we going?” Sarah asked.
“To the Hotel Erzsebet. It’s near the center of town, close to the popular Váci street. It’s also close to the main shopping areas and near the Great Market Hall.”
“What? We’re tourists now and not terrorists?”
“Sarah, we have to show them that you were here for fun and to get away from the shit in America. After a day or so we will grab a flight back to the States and everything will be over. Besides, they shouldn’t get all fucked up about it because you’re hanging out with a cop.”
“It won’t be over for me.”
“I know. If they really were monitoring you, then they would have the Best Western bugged better than a stakeout on the mafia while looking for Hoffa’s remains.”
Sarah turned to him and frowned. “What?”
“Nothing. Look, this is safer.”
“Two rooms?”
“I’d have it no other way.”
She saw his smile. With no toothpick in his mouth it was a rare full smile.
They checked in, got to their rooms and said goodnight. Both of them had agreed to leave the door adjoining their rooms unlocked just in case.
Exhausted, Sarah sat on the edge of her bed and stared at the television. Turning it on would’ve been more entertaining but she hadn’t gotten around to it quite yet.
A shower was first. Then new clothes. Maybe a drink from the minibar and then sleep.
Yeah, sleep. Who knew when she’d get another full night of sleep.
Shit was getting real, and fast.
Her arm twitched.
What? No fucking way.
Her arm went numb. She stood up, grabbed the little pad of paper and pen on the desk and sat on the floor.
Then a dark mist enveloped her vision and Sarah blacked out completely.
Parkman’s voice woke her.
She opened her eyes and looked around. The room was the same. The only difference was Parkman. He sat on the edge of her bed. He had the pad in his hand.
She lifted her head and then got up on one elbow.
“Wow. It’s been over a month since that’s happened. I forgot how debilitating it can be. It really knocks you out.”
“I knocked a few times. You didn’t answer. When I came in, you were just dropping this from your hand.” He looked back at the paper he held. “I think you better read it.”
She got up off the floor and sat on the bed beside him. He handed her the pad.
I’m sorry. I should’ve made contact sooner but they had a camera on you and parabolic listening devices. They were watching for contact from me. I think someone wants you for a psychic awareness government project of some kind. I’m looking into it.
Armond is in Budapest.
Tomorrow, 2:12pm, at The Great Market Hall you will see his new face by the red Ape.
Warning: It all ends at the Crypt. Only nine days left.
I’m so sorry Sarah…see you soon.
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About Jonas Saul
Jonas Saul is the author of the Sarah Roberts and The Kill Series. Visit his website, www.jonassaul.com for upcoming release dates. Jonas lives in Europe with his wife, Kate Cornwell.
Contact Jonas Saul
Website: http://www.jonassaul.com
Twitter: @jonassaul
Email: [email protected]
Table of Contents
Beginning
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
The Crypt - A Preview
About the Author
