The Terror (A Sarah Roberts Thriller Book 18)

by Jonas Saul

  Sarah grabbed a pair, tossed the small keys in her pocket, and exited the back of the store. The British BAE vest slipped over her head easily and covered her comfortably under her bulky shirt. Close by, the busiest street would be Harvey Avenue, where she expected to find a taxi pretty fast. The sun dipped behind a distant mountain on the West Kelowna side of Okanagan Lake as she walked, offering her better cover in the early evening dusk.

  As vile as Mike had sounded, she was proud of him for standing up for what he believed in. Not all cops were bad. But for the few that were, they tarnished the image of the boys in blue. She had one regret, though, and aimed to fix that before she left Kelowna. She didn’t get a chance to thank Mike for the vest. And she would have to return to pay for the cuffs.

  Chapter 34

  Parkman had to run to keep up as Lee body checked his office door and barreled inside.

  “Of all the fucking shit that goes on here,” Lee shouted in his empty office. “I cannot believe this.”

  Parkman stopped to catch his breath. He leaned on the doorframe and waited for Lee to calm down. The officers he’d sent to the hospital had gone for lunch at the same time and Mason and Calder had walked out. No one knew where they were and neither answered their cell phones.

  Lee stopped at his window and grumbled something under his breath as he stared outside. Parkman knew better than to ask what he said. Never interrupt a man when he was having a tantrum unless you want your head cut off in the resulting tirade. Adulting can be tough for some.

  Lee turned and kicked the table beside his small couch, knocking it over and spilling the lamp. It crashed to the floor, shattering the base into dozens of sharp-edged pieces.

  “Okay, Lee.” Parkman stepped inside the office, hands up. “Take it easy.”

  Lee glared at him. He pointed at Parkman, jabbing his finger in the air with each word. “No, I will not take it easy,” he growled. “Cops are expected to do their jobs. It’s bad enough that the Abbotsford detachment are investigating my cops.” Lee moved to his chair where he dropped like a sack of meat.

  “Abbotsford Police?” Parkman sat on the couch, avoiding the shards of glass on the floor. After replacing the toothpick in his mouth, he asked, “What are they looking into?”

  “The Kelowna RCMP detachment are under investigation for a series of allegations is all I can say. The Abbotsford detachment is acting as an independent policing agency investigating my boys. They won’t tell me anything because they’re still investigating. They just keep interviewing cop after cop and several witnesses about things I’m oblivious to.” Lee ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. “They’re gathering information. You know how it’s done. But it’s raising my fucking blood pressure.” He gawked at Parkman. “I’m 140 over 95. Can you believe that?”

  “Lee, that’s hypertension area. You gotta calm that shit down. Lose a few pounds. Reduce the salt intake.”

  “Blah, blah, blah. I’ve heard it all from the doctor. First find Sarah. Then, arrest my own cops for attempted murder and neglecting duty and all kinds of other shit charges. Then locate this terrorist Thirio guy. Once that’s all done, I’ll not just consider losing weight, eating better, and bringing this blood pressure shit down, I’ll consider retirement.” He placed his hands on the large square calendar in the center of his desk and studied the room. His gaze moved from the pictures on the walls, the diplomas hung proudly, to the furniture and finally stopped at Parkman. “I’m done, Parkman. I’m fucking done with all the bullshit.”

  “I was there once. In your chair. I left, too. Couldn’t handle the bullshit.” He tossed the toothpick back and forth with his tongue.

  “I mean,” Lee took a breath, “we had that Geoff Mantler thing years ago. Then the Barry Ashford shit. So many other incidents I can’t even begin to explain. Now our superintendent just retired. They’re looking at choosing the next detachment commander for the Kelowna regional detachment. There’s just so much going on inside the police force and not enough policing outside the force. It’s ballooned to something unmanageable and the people trying to manage it are being constantly sidelined and derailed. Our numbers are shooting through the roof. We’re about to have the highest crime rate in years. It spiked in the last quarter by almost nine percent.”

  “Okay, listening to you is raising my blood pressure.”

  Lee swung his chair to face Parkman. “And what about the guy that died the other day. We’re being investigated for that, too.”

  Lee needed to vent. He needed someone to listen to him. The man had to get it all out so he could release some of the weight on his shoulders.

  “What guy?” Parkman asked, leaning forward, genuinely interested. A lot of people had died recently because of Thirio. Why was one particular case more special and in need of an investigation than another?

  “My cops responded to a complaint of a male in need of medical assistance at the bus station. My guys, along with emergency health services attended. The man died the next morning.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, and now we’re being investigated to see if we’re culpable in any way. We’d released the guy from custody just eight hours before he died.”

  “That’s a full plate.” Parkman relaxed back into the couch.

  “A full plate? It doesn’t stop there. Our city’s on fire. Did you see in the papers what Kelowna cabs did a few nights ago?”

  Parkman shook his head and waited to be told.

  “Driver picks up a fare—a man and a woman—after a night out. During the ride, the driver fidgets with his in-car computer and crosses the yellow line slightly. Later on, driver allegedly does this again, but this time he drifts right over to the other side of the road before correcting it. Allegedly.”

  “Wow.”

  “Get this.” Lee leaned forward. “The fare tells the driver he doesn’t appreciate having his life risked while in his cab and could he just concentrate on the road. Cab driver gets upset. Fare orders the driver to call his boss. I’m not sure what happened after that except cuss words were exchanged—allegedly—and the fare tells the driver that he isn’t going to pay for the ride because of the shit service.”

  “What the cabbie do?” Parkman asked.

  “He calls all his other drivers and, I don’t know, half a dozen yellow Kelowna cabs show up. The drivers all get out of their cars and stand there, arms crossed, staring the fare down. Intimidation or what? It’s like two in the fucking morning. So the fare calls the police. My cop shows up, confirms multiple yellow Kelowna taxi vehicles at incident, and quells things before they get out of hand.”

  “How was it resolved? Anyone arrested?”

  “The fare paid for the ride to avoid the escalation and all the cab drivers left. I’ve got enough to worry about with cops like Mason and Calder and Barry Ashford without having to worry about the Kelowna taxi drivers intimidating their fares like a street gang or the fucking Mafia.” He raised his voice at the end of his speech.

  “Okay, you’re right. Maybe you need a drink. Something to calm down the blood—”

  Lee’s cell phone buzzed on his desk. He snatched it up. “What’s up?” he barked. After a moment, Lee turned to Parkman. “Okay. Hold him. Don’t let him go anywhere. That man leaves the building, you lose your job.” He paused. “I don’t fucking care,” Lee shouted. “Cuff him if you have to.”

  Lee jabbed a finger at the phone as he jumped from his chair. “Let’s go. Downstairs now.”

  “Why? Who’s here?”

  “A Realtor.” Lee half ran, half jogged for the door.

  “Wait. What? A Realtor?”

  Lee stopped at the door as Parkman rose from the couch. “Apparently he saw Sarah today. Then he was visited by two cops, Mason and Calder, who threatened him. He thought it best to report everything to the police so he was in the clear.”

  “And he’s downstairs right now?” Parkman asked.

  Lee started down the corridor. “In th
e flesh.”

  “Then what are we waiting for?” Parkman bolted past Lee and hit the stairs running.

  Chapter 35

  Sarah had the taxi drop her off on a city street a mile from the Campbell Winery. She paid the driver and walked toward town. When the cab was out of sight, she turned around and headed back along Upper Mission Drive toward the Campbell Winery. Ten minutes later, she passed the Taste of Belgium Bed & Breakfast. Instead of continuing to Trumpeter Road, she stopped to consult a map on the cell phone. The forest service road that led to Kelowna Mountain was to her left and it traversed behind the winery. There was a possibility she could access the winery from the back and have time to watch the place to see why it was so important.

  She started up the sloped service road. The entire walk was uphill. After more than five minutes of puffing up the hill in the near dark with only the moon to guide her, she caught sight of a vehicle parked on the side of the road up ahead. Cautiously, she edged toward the black bulk in the dark until she could make out the size and make.

  Thirio’s truck. The one from the grocery store in Vernon.

  She dropped down in case he’d been watching her approach. When she could tell no one was inside the vehicle, she moved closer until she leaned against the bumper. It struck her as ironic that she would use Thirio’s truck to hide from him.

  After several attempts to mentally summon Vivian proved fruitless, she waited a full five minutes without moving. She breathed in and out through an open mouth, maintaining barely a sound. Eyes closed, Sarah listened to the night. Crickets sounded close by. A frog croaked out a mating call. In the distance, a car backfired, followed by a screech of tires. Unless Thirio was also in hiding and waiting for her to lift her head, he wasn’t close by and she couldn’t hide behind his truck all night.

  She raised a hand above the hood of the truck, then lowered it. When nothing happened, she raised her head higher, conscious of the notion that she might see that old man in the suit watching her. With Vivian gone, the other spirits had to be around, but when she stood up beside the truck, she was alone. The address to the Campbell Winery, supplied by her sister, directed her to where Thirio would be. Regardless of their communication issues recently, Vivian had been able to deliver her to the man behind all the turmoil in the city of Kelowna.

  Sarah could end this tonight. Now she just had to find him.

  As quietly as possible, she climbed a small rise on the other side of the ditch and started toward the rear of the winery. A building came into view up ahead. It was hard to see in the dark once she’d entered the trees as the moon’s limited light couldn’t penetrate, but the house was easy enough to see because of its bulk. Sarah stopped behind the trunk of a blue spruce and watched the house. To her left, she could make out the lights of the main house in the distance. It was a large estate-like building with lights running along the roof’s perimeter. Several windows were illuminated. A circular fountain with water rising from the outside and being cast toward the middle appeared to be in the front driveway.

  Then what was the big building in front of her? It was too large to be a groundskeeper’s house. Maybe it was a guesthouse, but that was a stretch because of its massive size. Maybe the Campbells were so rich they had built this place as a guesthouse, and since it was dark, no guests were visiting.

  She moved from behind the blue spruce and started toward the dark house on her right. Something flickered by a basement window. She froze on the spot. The flicker came again. Someone was using a small light in the basement. Something told her it was Thirio. The BAE vest in place and her handcuffs open and dangling from a belt loop, Sarah pulled the gun from her waistband, kept her finger out of the trigger guard, and walked to the building.

  With each step, she grew more certain that Thirio was in the basement. When she was ten feet from the building, something moved on the front porch of the house. Sarah dropped to her knees and raised the gun. When her eyes focused better she saw the old man, her personal demon.

  “What do you want?” she whispered.

  He was doing that gesturing thing with his hands again. The one where she had to read the numbers. Nine, five, six, two, or something like that.

  Back on her feet, her knees dampened by the moist ground, she continued forward, ignoring the old man as his image shimmered in the dark. It amazed her that she wasn’t more frightened by him. If she hadn’t seen him several times before in the daylight, if this was the first time they’d met, she probably would’ve shouted something or shot at him.

  Taking easy steps to avoid creaks, she stepped onto the porch and put her back to the wall beside the front door.

  After two calming breaths, Sarah pivoted, used the tip of the gun to push the front door open, and entered the Campbell Winery guesthouse foyer.

  Chapter 36

  Parkman bought a sandwich from a store across the street, then ran back inside the police station where he snagged a coffee and observed his friend Lee in action. Lee got the man—Trever Florko—a coffee and offered one to Trever’s wife, but she declined. Once everyone was seated inside one of the interview rooms, Lee eased into interrogation mode.

  He took Trever’s statement like the complaint it was, asked appropriate questions, then set his pen down. Parkman took the last bite of his sandwich, then popped a toothpick in his mouth.

  “How threatened did you feel around Sarah, Mr. Florko?”

  Her looked at his wife, then down at his hands. “I didn’t feel threatened.” He met Lee’s eyes. “I only felt threatened when those two cops came to my door.”

  “Those men will be dealt with,” Lee said. “But first, I have to ask, did you tell them about Trumpeter Road?”

  “Yes. I told Sarah it was the road where the Campbell Winery was, and I told those cops that I’d sent Sarah there.”

  Lee tapped his pen as he glanced down at Trever’s statement. “Okay, go home. Relax. I’ll take care of this and make sure those cops don’t bother you again. You’ve done nothing wrong. Although, the next time someone shows you a weapon, it would probably serve you well to tell us about it.”

  “I understand that now.” Trever’s wife wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “I just thought I’d recognized her and when I learned it was Sarah Roberts, the same girl from the news, I was happy to’ve helped her.”

  “We know, Mr. Florko. It’s okay.” Lee got up from the table. “I’ve got your statement. I’ll call those pesky cops back in here and give them a sensitivity training course myself.”

  “I sure appreciate that, Mr. Lee.” Trever and his wife rose from their chairs. “We’re free to go now?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Lee opened the door and gestured for them to go ahead of him. Once outside, they shook hands, and the Florkos walked away.

  “Parkman, be ready in five minutes.”

  He didn’t have to ask, but decided to anyway. “Be ready for what?”

  “We’re going to the Campbell’s house.”

  “I hope you’re bringing an army.”

  Lee turned back to Parkman. “Why’s that?”

  Parkman raised his hand and checked off finger after finger as he spoke. “You’ve got Sarah there. Thirio’s probably there. Calder and Mason will be there, and who knows who else. The place will be crawling with trigger-happy idiots and your biggest problem with whomever you take with you is that they may be firing on other cops.”

  “Got that covered. I’m bringing in an Emergency Task Force team. Men I know personally and have worked with for decades. This has escalated to a hostage situation in my opinion. Get Sarah out alive and arrest anyone else on site.” He started away. Over his shoulder, he said, “Or shoot to kill.” At the elevator, he pushed the button, then looked back at Parkman. “I’m done with this shit.” The door opened. “I’m fucking done.” He disappeared inside the elevator.

  Chapter 37

  Sarah knelt in the corner of what was once the living room of the guesthouse. She used the light fro
m the screen of her cell phone to look around the room. It was mostly empty. A wooden chair sat tilted to the side in the far corner, one of its legs broken. Scraps of decaying paper and a discarded doll with one eye gouged out rested in the middle of the room. Wallpaper was in the act of removing itself from the walls, which only decades of disrepair could encourage. The building itself seemed intact as long as she stayed close to the walls. The wooden floor hadn’t emitted more than one creak before she stopped to kneel and examine the room.

  Something bumped below her. Whoever was downstairs—she was sure it was Thirio—was hard at work. Probably preparing another bomb or some toxic substance. Whatever he was working on didn’t matter. He would never get to use it.

  Sarah wore the BAE vest and was armed. The handcuffs were to tether him to her and take him to his truck before Mason and Calder showed up. Their investigation would lead them to the winery as she had told that Realtor where she was headed.