The Sarah Roberts Series Vol. 4-6

by Jonas Saul

  “This is such shitty luck,” Spencer said as he slapped the countertop beside him. “Drake just got away from Monika and her sick family with his life, only to be kidnapped by a psycho. Now he’s a hostage somewhere and we can’t even catch a break.” He stopped talking when his face lit up with something. “Maybe this has something to do with Ferenci? He may be still involved.”

  Sarah looked down at her shoes. She’d completely forgotten about the guy who wanted to kill Drake at the baseball game.

  “Sarah?” Parkman said.

  She looked up at him.

  “Can Vivian help us on this?”

  She shook her head. “I haven’t heard from Vivian in days. She’s been strangely silent.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m sure she’ll tell me soon enough. What I do know is,” she held a finger up, “where Elmore took Drake. I think I’ve figured it out. Parkman, Spencer, bring a couple of men and let’s go. I’ll tell you everything on the way.”

  Chapter 33

  Spencer drove south toward Toronto, the car’s lights flashing on the roof. He took liberties with his driving that only cops could, driving on the wrong side of the road at times and running red lights.

  Sarah observed from the backseat, a place she hated to be under any other circumstance. The backseat of a cop car always sucked.

  “Are you sure Elmore didn’t say anything about the location of his studio?” Spencer asked.

  Sarah shook her head. “No, I’d remember. He said nothing about where it was, only what he did there to the girls.”

  “I called it in,” Spencer said. “I’ve got my best guys working on Elmore’s public records to find what properties or businesses he may own and where they are.”

  “All I remember is that it’s downtown Toronto.”

  “We’re hitting the top of the 427 south, so we’ll be downtown in five to eight minutes. Hopefully my guys get me something by then.”

  Parkman sat beside her. He leaned closer. “You doing okay?”

  She nodded. “Yeah.”

  “You know, after what happened in Europe, I was pretty scared when you didn’t come off that plane. I called everybody I know and I called in any favors I could, but came up empty. It wasn’t until you showed up at the Rogers Centre when I heard anything about you being in Toronto. How could Rod be that powerful?”

  “That’s the crazy thing about people like Rod. Too much power and no accountability, no consequences. Rod has no governors, nothing holding him back.”

  Parkman nodded and looked out the window. After a moment, he glanced back at her. “Why do you think Vivian has been silent? In Europe, she was getting even more involved. She made you pass out just to keep you from being shot.”

  “I know. It’s confusing, but I have a theory.”

  “What’s that?”

  Sarah looked down at her hands. “Her original goal has always been to catch Armond Stuart. She gave me a couple of safe tasks to accomplish before going after Armond. Once I’d boosted my confidence, I was ready and she knew it. Now that Armond is dead, she’s done. She can rest in peace.”

  “Okay,” Parkman interrupted. “What’s next?”

  “That’s just it. There’s been a lot of danger along the way. Many times she’d lead me to the fight, but it was me who did the fighting. I just feel that her job is over now that Armond is gone.” Sarah met his eyes. “I might not hear from her again.”

  “You really think so?”

  She nodded.

  “Then why send you after Drake? How does he fit in?”

  “Because, he would’ve been another casualty of the fraudulent immigration ring that Armond was a part of. If she could save one more life …”

  “I disagree,” Parkman said. “She did send you to save Drake, but it also netted you Elmore, who from what we’re gathering, is quite the disgusting psychopath. He’s preyed on women for too long. If you didn’t come to Toronto, Elmore would still be doing what he’s been doing for years.”

  Sarah thought about it for a second. “Maybe you’re right. And maybe I came not just to save Drake, but to be with Drake.”

  “Be with Drake? What does that mean?”

  Sarah looked away. What she felt inside was so foreign to her that she didn’t know what her face would show Parkman.

  The radio in the front seat crackled. Spencer clicked a button and talked rapidly.

  “Got it!” he shouted.

  “Got what?” Sarah asked.

  “We know Elmore’s studio is in the Entertainment District at the corner of Duncan and Richmond Street. Units are on their way, but they’ve been ordered to stay back a few blocks until I give the go-ahead. We’ll be in that area in minutes. Hold on.”

  Chapter 34

  Elmore slapped the steering wheel hard.

  “Why did I think I could ever control someone like Sarah? Fuck, she has single-handedly ruined everything I’d spent years building.”

  It further infuriated him that he couldn’t find a parking spot. Downtown Toronto on any given day was always a test of patience and today Elmore had little. After circling for what felt like an hour, he found a parking lot that allowed him to park near the back by workmen who were tearing up a street.

  Summertime in Toronto wouldn’t be summer without construction going on all over the place.

  Then he smiled to himself. Drake lay in the trunk. The jackhammers were cutting into cement fifteen feet from his car door. No one would be able to hear Drake with the cacophony of men at work. Elmore had stopped on the way downtown and pulled into the back of a gas station to put duct tape over Drake’s mouth and cuffs on his wrists. With enough shouting, Drake would attract someone’s attention from the trunk soon enough if his lips weren’t sealed.

  Taking one final look around, Elmore got out, locked his car doors and started walking the two blocks to his studio. He’d always kept the studio legal and aboveboard so it covered his ass with the tax man. There had to be something to explain the income from Japan and how it got generated in the first place. Because it was registered to him, that meant the cops would find it easily, but would they come there first? He felt they’d focus on his house first.

  Maybe he needed to call a lawyer. He had the money. He could stop the cops from entering his house. Probable cause, search warrants and illegal entry were all things he needed a lawyer to deal with. If they searched his house, they’d have enough to charge him right away. An investigation would ensue and that’s where things would get bad.

  Perhaps he shouldn’t have left the house. When Sarah ran away and disappeared so quickly, his urge was to get out and get out fast. But if he was still at home, he’d be able to stop illegal searches. Would Sarah’s word alone be enough for them to walk into a private residence? How long did search warrants take to process?

  “Damn her,” he said out loud.

  Two women wearing business suits and carrying briefcases walked by and looked at him.

  He passed them and didn’t look back. Fuck them if they think he’s crazy.

  When everything was over, he would hunt Sarah down and find her. Whatever it took, he would catch up with her. But he would only want one thing from her then and that would be to watch the last breath cross her lips.

  It’s too late now. You’ve run. You have to keep running. Who knows what’s going on back at the house?

  The front of his studio looked normal. No one watched him or his premises. He waited a full two minutes and then ran across Duncan Street to the side of the building.

  The L’Amore Photo Studio sign sat with pride on the door. For a brief moment, he reminisced of all the beautiful young things who had walked through that door. How many had he taken home and used for pleasure for so many wonderful years, he couldn’t remember. Those were the days. Now his studio would serve as a temporary shelter for his captive before he fled to the airport to leave the country. Maybe he should think about going to the Hamilton International Air
port and taking a domestic flight to Vancouver and then flying internationally after that. Would they monitor every airport across the nation for one man?

  After looking up and down the alley and satisfying himself that no one watched, he fished out his keys and inserted them into the door. The locked clicked. Elmore pushed the door open fast and stepped up to the alarm panel to enter the four-digit code to deactivate it.

  But the alarm panel remained unlit.

  Did I forget to arm it the last time I left?

  He’d only forgotten once before. He was very anal about things as serious as that. There was no way he forgot. Couldn’t be. Someone had to have turned it off, but who?

  There was no way the police could already be here and broken into his business just to re-lock the door and let him walk in.

  So who was here?

  He turned around slowly and surveyed the main foyer area. Two doors led to the back. One was the staging area photo room and the other was a hallway that ended at the bathroom. The little light coming in from the outside was enough to see into each doorway.

  “Hello? Anyone here?”

  Someone knocked on the door. Elmore jumped and snapped his head toward the door, his heart suddenly beating as fast as the jackhammers by his car.

  Fuck!

  If it’s the cops, they would’ve seen him enter. If it wasn’t cops, then who could it be?

  Curiosity drove him to step up to the door and grip the handle. He took a couple of deep breaths and pulled the door open.

  A man in a long trench coat filled the door, each shoulder brushing the doorframe.

  “Can I help you?”

  Elmore thought about grabbing his gun.

  Something cold touched the back of his neck. He jerked away and spun to look at who was behind him. An old man, probably in his sixties, aimed a long gun at Elmore’s face.

  “What the fuck—”

  The man in the doorway shoved Elmore further into his studio. The old man with the gun moved out of the way.

  “You are a stupid human being,” the old man said.

  “Who are you people?” Elmore asked. “What are you doing at my studio?”

  “Who I am doesn’t matter. I’m here for Drake. Where is he?”

  “Who the hell is Drake? This is a photo studio. I have shoots planned for this afternoon.”

  The old man looked at the large man in the overcoat and nodded. The huge man stepped closer, lifted his arm and brought his fist down hard and fast. So fast, Elmore didn’t have a chance to move. The brick of a fist connected with his nose. A blinding flash of light swept across his vision and pain erupted throughout his face. He felt the gush of blood before he saw it. Both eyes watered to the point where the men standing in front of him were a blur. He could not believe the pain. His face was on fire.

  “Why did … my nose … broken,” he said with a nasally voice.

  “We are out of precious time. Where is Drake?”

  The guy had a hard accent. Central Europe. Romania or Hungary. What would he want with Drake?

  Elmore stepped back and leaned against the wall. His vision hadn’t cleared and his equilibrium wavered. He wasn’t sure if he could remain standing. The pain was overwhelming.

  “Look, Elmore,” the old man shouted. “The police just announced that they were on their way here. Sarah Roberts is coming with them to examine your photo studio, because they believe this is where you fled with Drake. I’m thinking we have two, maybe three minutes before they arrive. Tell me where you have left Drake and I will make it easy for you.”

  The pit in Elmore’s stomach grew. It was truly over. There was nothing he could do now. It could take them a week to locate his car parked blocks away. By then, Drake would be dead. His final act would be to never reveal where Drake remained hidden.

  He smiled at the old man and said, “Fuck you,” blood spitting out with his words.

  The old man leveled his weapon and fired. Elmore fell, unable to hold himself up on one leg. Momentarily, the pain in his face forgotten, he wiped his eyes and looked at his ruined knee. The bullet had entered the top of his right knee. The bottom of his leg sat at an odd angle.

  The old man standing over him showed nothing on his face like sorrow, shame or guilt. He stared at Elmore with anger and the will to continue shooting.

  The pain in his leg amplified with each breath. Elmore vomited twice before he got his breathing under control. Blood still ran down the front of his face, and now it seeped through his pant leg.

  “Last time. Where’s Drake? No more chances.”

  Elmore stared at the two men, stunned. How did it come to this? Who were these people? What had he gotten himself mixed up in?

  He opened his mouth to answer, but realized that he’d waited too long. The old man had brought his weapon up again and pulled the trigger as Elmore shouted for him to stop.

  The bullet punched his other leg. Aghast, Elmore stared at the hole where his other knee had once been. He threw up again, but not much came as his stomach was empty. Vomit mixed with the blood from his nose.

  I’m going to die here.

  The old man knelt down by his head. “My friend here wants to call you an ambulance. You won’t die from these wounds if you’re taken to a hospital quickly. I’ve heard they can do wonders with artificial knees nowadays. The other option is, you continue to refuse my request and I will be forced to use the next bullet on your eye hole. So, decision time—bullet in the eye, or ambulance?”

  Elmore didn’t have to think long. “Ambu … lance,” he managed to say through the blood entering his mouth.

  “Good choice. Then where is Drake?”

  “In my car,” Elmore said and reached into his pocket for his keys. His legs shifted with the movement and he winced and moaned. The brute in the long coat ripped the keys from his hand.

  “Where’s your car?” The question came out as a solid order.

  “Two blocks from here. By the road construction … jackhammers.”

  The pain took over. All he felt was pain. His thoughts were scattered. What was happening? What would life be like now?

  The old man said something about waiting for Sarah. Park the car on Queen Street. Wait there. They would murder her and Drake as soon as they got out of the area.

  At least Sarah will finally be dead, Elmore thought.

  He lay back, his head sliding down the wall and bumping off the baseboard until it landed on the tiled floor. An odd thought struck him about the day he tiled the floor and how the first girl he kidnapped had walked in, a modeling portfolio under her arm. She had glowed in the sunshine. His first sex slave.

  Memories, what memories.

  Something covered his vision. He forced his eyes open to see what was happening. The old man had brought the gun up in front of his face.

  Did he have more questions?

  He heard the gun go off, but he couldn’t see anything anymore. More pain entered his consciousness. His body convulsed. He tried to shout but nothing came out.

  In the distance, he heard another crack of the gun.

  Chapter 35

  Spencer raced down Queen Street and parked along the curb. Sarah’s stomach growled at the sight of the Korean restaurant on the left and Indian restaurant on the right.

  “We’ll leave the car here and walk to the studio. Parkman, we’ve got dozens of uniforms within one block waiting for me to give the okay to move in.” He turned to Sarah. “This is almost over. We’ll get Drake out. He’s my friend too.”

  They all got out and started down the busy street. Pedestrians clogged the sidewalk. The threesome had to separate and walk around people at times. It wasn’t until they turned down Duncan Street that they got away from the bustling activity on Queen Street.

  At the corner of the building that housed the photo studio, Spencer slowed and peeked around. He turned back to Parkman and Sarah.

  “No car in the lane.”

  He stepped out into the open and walked alon
g the alley to the photo studio’s door, where he stood against the wall to the right. Parkman walked over and stood on the left. Sarah stayed back by the entrance to the alley.

  Spencer tried the door. It was locked. She was close enough to hear him radio someone who had been set up to watch the front of the building.

  “Nothing. No movement your way,” she heard through the small speaker.