by Jonas Saul
Sarah nodded. “They are, but they won’t find you here.”
Beverly looked from Alex to Sarah, then stared out the front window. There was a huge forest just out front, with large pine trees partially blocking the view of a small lake. Disco had told her the name of the lake last night, but she already forgot it.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t follow.” Beverly sat her cup down. “I’m through. The people who hurt me are dead, except for Donovan. Why wouldn’t I turn myself in? Or should I ask, why would you hide me?”
“Beverly, Hunter brought backup last night.”
“He did?” She actually looked surprised. “Was that the reason we ducked down when we were leaving the barn? I wasn’t really paying much attention by that point.”
Sarah nodded. “They came armed.” She waited for Beverly to understand. When she didn’t acknowledge Sarah, she continued. “My friends were able to stop Hunter’s team from getting to the barn.”
“What would have happened if they got to the barn?”
“My sister told me none of us would’ve made it out of there alive.”
Beverly’s mouth dropped open. She stared off at something to her right, then snapped back to Sarah.
“He didn’t have fellow police officers then. Couldn’t be. They wouldn’t just kill us all.”
“He did, though.”
“How do you know?”
“My sister told me it had something to do with a large drug bust several years back. You referred to the money when you and Hunter were arguing in the barn. What was that about?”
“A drug bust. Over a million in cash. The guys they busted were so high, they put them in the cruisers and every cop there stole fifty grand each. They made a pact among one another to keep quiet. Hunter stored his in a safe in the bedroom. One night when he was drunk, I told him I didn’t believe he had that kind of money just stashed, so he took me in and opened the safe. Sure enough, he had fifty grand all wrapped in piles of five thousand.”
“And when he opened the safe, you memorized his combination?”
Beverly nodded, then sipped from her coffee again. “I figured when I needed it for my pilot’s license I would just take it. He was always at work and had no idea what I did through the day.”
“Pilot’s license? Oh, right, because you stole the plane at the Buttonville Airport.”
“A lot of planning and time went into each killing.”
Sarah leaned back, wondering if she should be recording this. It was starting to sound like a confession.
“I even befriended Officer Barnes again. Just for that one job. I mean, I couldn’t figure out how to get Pastor Blair alone. The Doyles were easy. School teachers are homebodies. Slip inside when they’re at school and wait for them.”
It was all coming together for Sarah. “So when Hunter called you on that other phone and you answered, you weren’t being chased by anybody?”
The hint of a smile play at the edge of her lips. “No, I was in the basement waiting for the Doyles and I thought my friend Anna was calling. Had to think of something quick.”
“You know you’ve killed people, right? Like, this isn’t a joke.”
Beverly snapped her head toward Sarah. “Yeah, I know exactly what I’ve done, and after what they did to me, I’d do it again and again. Every single fucking one of them. Not one of those men deserved to live.”
“How about their wives? Did they deserve to live?”
“I wish that could’ve been avoided, but they condoned their men. They all knew what happened and let it go. So, fuck them too. Although, the children were off limits.”
Sarah couldn’t claim to understand this woman, but she could understand her pain.
“And now you want to turn yourself in?” Sarah asked.
Beverly nodded. “That or die.” She shrugged as if it was no big deal. “I mean, I can’t live on the run. Donovan is still alive and won’t stop looking for me now, and I actually did mail that money back to Donovan’s boss with a letter detailing the crime, the date of the bust, and the names of twelve of the fourteen officers who took the money. When he gets that today or tomorrow, every cop everywhere will want to see me dead.”
Sarah and Alex stared at each other a moment. That had to be the leverage Hunter had over his fellow officers to come dressed as they were last night, ready for a war. Before they slept, Parkman had told Sarah that they weren’t in regulation police uniforms. It was some sort of military fatigues. He felt something was off right away and warned the others.
And maybe that’s why Vivian had them sneak a murderer out of that barn and into hiding—to save her life.
“What if I could arrange a safe way for you to turn yourself in? Would you do it?”
Beverly wrapped her hands around her coffee mug as if they were cold.
“Yes, I’d do it.”
“I’d like something from you first, though.”
“What’s that?”
“A detailed description of what happened to you that night in the barn and what happened to your family. Would you be willing to tell me everything?”
Beverly faced Sarah again. “Why?”
“Because I understand they didn’t find the people who killed your parents.”
“That’s true, but it was Donovan. I mean, I saw him stab my father when he ran into the barn to save me.” Whether Beverly noticed it or not, her voice cracked halfway through that sentence.
“At least by giving me some of the details about that night and your parents’ murders, I can arrange your safety when you surrender to the authorities.”
“How?”
“There’s someone I know at the police station. Well, she’s not directly affiliated with the police station, but she could facilitate the details for us.”
“Wouldn’t they just take my statement?”
“Of course.” Sarah rested her arm on the back of the sofa. “My reasoning is to make sure Detective Hunter and his group of thugs my friends bumped into last night, won’t be anywhere near you during the entire time you’re being processed. If something were to happen to you before your statement could be taken, we’d still have the one you give me.”
“Ahh, that makes sense.” Beverly lifted her cup and held it close to her mouth, but didn’t sip from it. “Okay, I’ll give you as many details as I can, but first, you call this person you know. If they agree to help me turn myself in, I agree to give you my statement. But just you.” She looked at Sarah. “Alone. That work?”
Sarah got up from the couch. “I’ll call right now. She’s going to want to know how we are.”
“Sarah,” Alex said. “Don’t use your phone. Wake Disco. He has burners.”
“Of course.” Sarah headed for the stairs.
Some of what Vivian did was becoming clearer. They weren’t harboring a fugitive as much as keeping her alive. The process of bringing her in was already underway, but for this particular fugitive, it had to be done right in order to save her life, and Sarah was in the unique position to be able to do that.
FBI Special Agent Tracie DeOcampo was still in town for another couple of days. While she didn’t have official affiliation with the Toronto Police Services, she could be trusted with Miss Wilder’s surrender to the authorities.
But what would happen to Beverly on the inside once DeOcampo and Sarah weren’t there to protect her?
Sarah knocked on Disco’s bedroom door, shaking her head, pondering what was left of the life of Beverly Wilder. There was only so much someone could do to save someone else’s life. After that, they had to do things for themselves, and Beverly Wilder had all but sealed her fate.
Perhaps getting her out of that barn last night wasn’t just about keeping her alive. Maybe it was about keeping her alive long enough to hear her horrid tale so that the assholes who stole her life from her would pay for what they did—the ones still alive, at least.
Just maybe, this was all about bringing down bitch cops like Detective Hunter.
&
nbsp; So why let the others die, then? Couldn’t they have been arrested, too?
Maybe some answers weren’t hers to know.
Chapter 33
Twenty minutes after waking up, Disco took Sarah to a room that had been turned into an office at the back of the cottage. Inside a drawer in a cabinet, Disco withdrew three burners—cell phones that couldn’t be traced as long as they were used once. The pay-as-you-go SIM cards were already inside and could be used as soon as the phones were turned on.
“Here, take all three. Use once, then turn them off and break them apart. After that, give them to me so I can obliterate them with a hammer.”
Sarah nodded. “I can do that.”
She placed two of them on the coffee table, then headed outside to make her call. DeOcampo’s number was in her phone. Last night, when arriving, they’d put their phones in airplane mode, then turned them off. At least now, when she turned hers back on, it wouldn’t try to connect anywhere.
A fallen tree offered her a place to sit at the perimeter of the front yard. She dialed DeOcampo and waited.
“Hello?” DeOcampo said the word like a question.
“It’s Sarah.”
“Holy shit, Sarah. Give me a second until I get somewhere more private.”
Sarah stared out at the trees surrounding the cottage’s large yard. It was such a peaceful setting after the craziness of the past few days.
“Okay, Sarah,” DeOcampo whispered into the phone. “I’m good. Now, where are you?”
“Can’t say right now.”
“What? Sarah, it’s me. After all we’ve been through, you can trust me. Or is that it, now? You don’t trust me?”
“It’s not that at all.”
“Sarah, there are cops in the hospital. Three men on some raid last night had internal bleeding, among other injuries. They found Hunter unconscious on the floor of that barn when they arrived. What were you doing there last night?”
“What have you heard?” Sarah asked. “Tell me that and I’ll tell you how much of it is bullshit.”
“Apparently, Detective Hunter got a tip late last night and headed out to the old abandoned barn. When he thought he saw the person who’d been behind all the recent killings with his ex-girlfriend, he called in backup. They’re saying you and your group of martial artists arrived, knocked everybody out, and absconded with the murderer. There’s a BOLO out for you and Aaron. Sarah”—her voice rose—“are you hiding a known fugitive? Do you have the person behind these murders? Is Beverly Wilder with you?”
“Let’s start at the beginning.”
“Please, I’m listening.”
“Hunter did not receive a tip as he suggests. The murderer texted him in that meeting we had yesterday at the police station. His phone company can probably provide those texts for whoever wants them. I saw the texts myself.”
“What?” DeOcampo sounded like she gasped the word. “You’re fucking kidding me? He was talking to the murderer in that meeting yesterday and didn’t tell anyone present? This had better be a joke or I’ll have his fucking job!”
“There’s more. The message was specific. Hunter and myself were supposed to meet the perp at the barn for ten last night so that they would release Beverly Wilder unharmed. We were to arrive without weapons, so I secretly brought my friends with me. Now, be quiet for a moment while I fill you in on the rest of it.”
Sarah explained everything, including how Hunter’s team of off-duty officers (his criminal cohorts) came looking to kill the only leak to their freedom last night at that barn. Sarah’s friends were able to ensure her safety, and when they discovered who was coming and what their intent was, they took action so no lives were lost. That was why Sarah had Beverly, because leaving her to the authorities last night would’ve ended her life.
Then she told her about the money, the fourteen officers involved, twelve of which Beverly could recall, and how Hunter’s boss would have that list today or tomorrow, along with most of Hunter’s stash from that bust.
“So, all this time it was Hunter’s girlfriend?”
“That is confirmed.”
There were a few moments of dead silence between them.
“What’s the next step?” DeOcampo asked.
“Beverly is ready to come in, but not to be shot or worse, killed in jail. She knows what she did, the planning involved, and when you hear the reasons, there might be a part of you that will understand. But we both know nothing excuses murder.”
“There’s a but in there somewhere. She’s ready to come in, but …”
“We need you to facilitate her surrender to the authorities.”
“Me?” DeOcampo sounded surprised. “Usually you hire a lawyer, and they bring you in. What would make you think an American FBI agent can do this for you? In Canada, I have no clout other than professional courtesy.”
Sarah glanced at two birds chasing each other among the tops of the trees. As a city girl, she had no idea what those birds were called. Were they sparrows? Maybe it was time to change that. She would certainly love to raise Willow in such a setting.
“DeOcampo, you’re FBI, a respected member of the law community. They’ll listen to you in that matter-of-fact tone you have. Also, there’s another thing.”
“I’m afraid to ask. What other thing?”
“She’s not coming in until charges have been filed against Detective Hunter for the theft of that cash from the drug bust, and—”
“Sarah, that could take months. They’d have to do an investigation. There would have to be—”
“I’m not finished. Detective Hunter needs to be charged with two counts of murder for killing Jamie Morgan’s parents as well.”
“She’s asking too much. That’s impossible. A twenty-year-old cold case? No bloody way. I could maybe get the case looked at, reopened, but these things would only be a request. It would be up to the—”
“DeOcampo, she isn’t asking. This isn’t open for debate or negotiation. She had a chance to kill Hunter last night for his crimes, and she let him live. Now it’s the system’s chance to hold him accountable.” There was silence at the other end of the line. “She’s been through too much. She deserves a win here. And if the system won’t offer her a win, then she’s convinced she won’t have safe passage and she won’t come in voluntarily.”
“Bit ironic she’s asking for safety after the people she just killed were denied that right.”
“Unorthodox, I know. Everything about this case is upside down. But I can’t take her in without assurances. Otherwise, Hunter and his fellow goons will make sure she doesn’t make it the week. She knows too much.”
“I’ll see what I can do, but I can’t make any promises. And I leave in a few days.”
“Then hurry up. In the meantime, I’ll email you her verbal statement about what Hunter did to her. She’s going to tell me everything today.”
“Can I reach you at this number?”
“No, it’s a burner. After this call, it’ll be destroyed. But I have your number and email. You’ll hear from me later today and when I call back, I hope I hear movement of some kind.”
“I might be able to move a hill, but I can’t move mountains.”
“Good luck, Agent DeOcampo. A woman’s life is riding on this.”
Sarah hung up and turned off the phone. She stayed a few extra moments to watch the birds peacefully chase each other through the tops of the trees.
She missed her daughter. It was time to end this and go home.
And since everyone seemed to know where they lived in Mississauga, maybe it was time for them to consider moving to a more remote setting. Somewhere private, where they can set up a secure perimeter, with all the bells and whistles.
Maybe it was time to escape from the treacherous life they lived.
She hated having every cop in the city looking for her and Aaron—yet again.
Didn’t bode well for their future.
Or Willow’s.
Chapt
er 34
After lunch, Sarah and Beverly retired alone to the room the owner had designated as an office. They sat in two plush armchairs that faced the back windows. The silence in the area, the cottage, was so calming and peaceful, Sarah had the sudden urge to sell everything and move into such a place, or a place just like it.
She set four water bottles down on the end table between the chairs, and glanced over at Beverly.
“Are you okay if I record this?” Sarah asked.
Beverly placed a box of tissue beside her, adjusted her pants, and stretched out her legs. When she turned to look at Sarah, the sadness on her face tore at Sarah’s heart. She almost got up and hugged the woman, but then remembered what they were doing and why they were there. This woman had taken so many lives over the past few days and she was about to give her statement. Whether it would ever be accepted in a court of law—Sarah doubted it, and the authorities would want another one once she was taken into custody—she at least wanted to record it for DeOcampo’s sake. Maybe later this afternoon when they were finished and she emailed it to DeOcampo, she could get traction with Hunter’s bosses.
“Yes,” Beverly said. “Record this. I couldn’t expect you to write everything down.”
Sarah clicked the button on the digital recorder Disco had supplied, then stared out the window at the trees lining the back.
“My name is Sarah Roberts, and I’m here today with Beverly Wilder. Beverly has admitted to taking the lives of several people over the past few days and is willing to voluntarily surrender herself to the authorities. But before that happens, Beverly will tell her side of the story, starting in 1999 when Detective Hunter of the Toronto Police Services was her high school boyfriend.” She paused, turned to Beverly, and nodded. “You’re free to start at any time, but please state your name for the recording purposes.”
“My name is Beverly Wilder,” she said without hesitation. “But that is a name I took in 1999 after faking my own death. The name my parents gave me was Jamie Morgan.”
Sarah placed a hand on each armrest and braced herself for what was next.
