by Jonas Saul
“Mercedes works for Miles. She’s in this parking lot every night after midnight and works till dawn. The only nights she’s not here is when Miles lets her stay a whole night with one guy.”
“And she’s not here tonight,” Parkman said.
Vicky shook her head and looked down at a busted nail on her finger. She pulled on it for a second, then met Sarah’s eyes.
“Mercedes might be in trouble.”
“How so?”
“There’s a guy who’s been coming around lately. Big guy. Loads of cash. Takes her for the night. She comes back with handcuff marks on her wrists. I’m worried for her, but Miles doesn’t care. As long as he gets his cut.”
“When was the last time you saw her?” Parkman asked.
“Two nights ago. She wasn’t here last night, either.”
The waitress set three cups of coffee in front of them. “Will there be anything else?”
Vicky shook her head. “No thanks.”
The waitress walked away as Sarah pulled the cup to her lips and sniffed the aroma before sipping.
“No cream or sugar?” Vicky asked.
“None.”
“Me too.” After a sip from her cup, Vicky said, “I think Mercedes is afraid of her customer. At least that’s what some of the girls were saying.”
“How so? Did you hear why?”
“No.”
“Have you seen this guy?” Parkman asked. “Can you give us a description?”
“I can do you one better. I followed her two nights ago to see where the client was taking her.”
Sarah sat up in her seat. “Really? Take us there.”
“I think he detected the tail. I lost them a few blocks from where he lives.”
“How do you know you were close to where he lives? You could’ve lost them before they jumped in a car and drove to the other side of the city.”
“He was pulling out his house keys when he noticed me. After putting the keys away, they kept walking. After two blocks, and a couple fast turns, they disappeared.”
“Then take us to where you lost them. Walk us the exact route.”
“You can walk that far on a crutch?”
“Don’t worry about me. Mercedes’ life may be in danger. And if she’s involved with the priest killer in any way, if we don’t find her, more priests are going to die.”
“Do you know her real name?” Parkman asked.
Vicky lifted her coffee with both hands and said, “Evelyn Wynn. Her name is Evelyn, but the client always calls her Eve.”
Chapter 12
Outside the restaurant, Vicky followed them to their rental. The authorities had cleared out of the parking lot already.
“Your team works fast,” Sarah said.
“We already had the list of charges prepared as we were set to arrest Miles and his crew tonight. I was talking to Jessica when you walked by us. I was about to pop the question to her.”
“Pop the question?” Parkman asked.
“If she would testify against Miles. If not, I would have arrested her out front, away from his sight. My backup was minutes away, as you now know.”
“Probably a good night for us to come,” Sarah said.
“Sarah?” Vicky stepped closer. “I have to ask. What possessed you to grab Miles’ gun? That was either the bravest thing I have ever seen, or the stupidest.”
“Consider it the stupidest then,” Sarah said as she made her way around to the passenger side of the rental. “We’ll follow you.”
She opened the door and dropped into the seat, the stress of the evening wearing her down. Parkman said a few more words to Vicky and got in the car. He put the keys in the ignition and stopped.
“Sarah, why did you grab the gun?”
“He was going to shoot. Didn’t want it touching me anymore. Also, I thought I detected a little orange around the barrel. There was a possibility it was fake.”
“All guns are real and loaded when they’re aimed at you. That’s the only rule to live by, literally, the only way to stay alive.”
“I know,” Sarah said. “Look, Vicky’s pulling out. Let’s go.”
Parkman started the car and pulled out to follow Vicky.
“You handled it expertly,” Parkman said. “Any chance there’s more you’re not telling me? Like how you knew Miles’ name.”
“I just knew.”
“What does that mean?”
She turned to him. “It’s Vivian. She talks to me. In my head.”
“What?” He glanced at her, then back at the road. “How?”
“She drops words into my consciousness. The hand-written messages tell the future. But in the moment, when I need something new, Vivian speaks to me in the here and now. The words form in my mind and I can tell they’re not my own.”
“How long has she been doing this?”
“Since I took that bullet in the head in Toronto.” Sarah adjusted her broken foot and rested her arm on the back of the seat. “Vivian has always had control of my body. That’s how the automatic writing works. She takes over, channeling through me to write messages. Back in Kelowna, she took over my drugged body and fought back when I couldn’t. For a time, she actually possessed me.”
“I remember you telling me about that.”
“But there’s a problem with it.”
“What’s that?” Parkman asked as he slowed the car. Vicky had pulled off Sunset Boulevard and was parking on a side road.
“It feels like there’s two people inside my head now. It’s weird. Like sometimes I’m the guest.”
“And?” Parkman stopped the car and cut the lights. He turned to face her.
“I can feel Vivian’s thoughts. Even see some of her memories. It worries me.”
“How?”
“Just recently I saw an image of my parents as if it was a memory. But it couldn’t have been my memory as Mom and Dad were too young.”
“If that’s the only side effect, what does it matter? You rattled Miles and disarmed him because of what Vivian said. That may have saved your life.”
“Vivian told me the kind of gun it was and how to disarm it. Mentally, she made it feel like I always knew the M1911 model.”
“There you go. Saving your life tonight far outweighs a few memories of Vivian’s past.”
“Normally I would agree. But Vivian was raped and murdered at a young age. When those memories surface, what then? How am I supposed to cope with that kind of memory when it isn’t even mine? Parkman, I can handle a lot, but that would ruin me. I can’t imagine walking around with a memory of that kind of violation. She died. That would come along with it. Because I love her so much and appreciate our understanding and what she does to help people, I just couldn’t cope with it.”
Vicky was walking toward their car.
“Deal with it when the time comes,” Parkman said.
“I only hope I can.”
Chapter 13
Mike dragged the heavy snake cage down the wide stairs until he reached the dolly. After strapping the cage to the dolly, he pushed it to the makeshift loading dock at the back of the building.
He backed a van up to the dock in near darkness as he didn’t want to light the place up. It was after three in the morning with virtually no traffic out front, but still, risks weren’t necessary.
Mike couldn’t think of a time when he was happier. Except when he slaughtered his parents on their vacation. That was a good day. As the knife sliced through their throats and his parents’ heads lopped off, he enjoyed branding their dead skin with upside-down crosses. Let the investigators run around looking for a crazed religious killer.
His parents had been rich. After their death, all their assets were liquidated and the money was put into a trust fund. But now the fund was almost empty, the money running out. The fact that the church was a business, a rich business, wasn’t lost on him. The ability to funnel money from the church undetected had been easy until recently. Several priests had set a meeting
to discuss missing funds and he wasn’t invited.
It inspired him to murder those Catholic priests for all the hatred and death the Catholics had spread around the world with their religious wars. Sure, Islam had their Jihad, and governments fought wars over oil, but the Catholics had killed more people worldwide than any other religion and yet it was the largest religion on Earth, followed by more people than any other.
“If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.”
Mike got out of the van, leaving the driver’s side door ajar, walked around to the back and opened the doors. He carefully rolled the dolly to the edge of the loading dock and set the cage just inside the van. Once the cage was unstrapped, he pulled the dolly back. After a small push with his shoulder, he was able to shut and secure the back doors, the python safely inside.
He stepped back and admired the building they were supposed to be turning into a non-profit site for the homeless.
Not anymore. Not after they find two dead bodies inside.
He ran around to the front of the van and grabbed the cross with Father George’s name engraved in it. With his oxygen mask in hand, he headed back inside.
From the small viewing window, Father George hadn’t moved. Mike donned the mask, made sure he was getting ample oxygen and unlocked the door. An audible whoosh accompanied the breaking of the seal.
Getting caught with one of his kills would stop him from succeeding in his mission, and he didn’t want to upset the Great One, so he rushed over to Father George, set the cross on his chest without nailing it in.
Mike backed out into the hall, slammed the door and stared up at the ceiling. In the room above him, his beloved Evelyn lay dead.
“You weren’t supposed to go yet,” he mumbled inside the mask.
When he was clear of the doorway, he tore off the mask and tossed it onto the floor. Then took a deep breath to repeat the words unfettered by the mask and instantly came down with a hacking cough. Some of the toxic gas must have filtered out further than he thought.
He leaned on the wall and coughed harder, trying to clear his lungs. On each intake, more gas entered him. Before it could overcome him, he started down the hall. At the end, he turned right and headed to the van, coughing as he went. By the time he got to the back door, it had abated some.
Once outside, he stopped at the sight of three people walking by on the street.
He dropped and hid behind the van. They were too far away for him to hear what they were saying. He coughed under his breath, forcing his mouth to stay closed. After a moment, he crawled to the corner of the van and peeked around toward the street.
The three people had stopped. They stood quietly just outside the direct glow of a streetlight, their faces in darkness.
Can they see me?
They probably heard the back door open and close, but he didn’t think they could hear his coughing. Which meant they were waiting for someone to materialize. He couldn’t wait them out. There was too much risk of being caught here.
Why would someone stand and watch the back of a loading dock?
Unless they were looking for something unusual. Something that didn’t fit.
Unless they were cops.
There was no way he could tell from here. But if they were cops and tried to stop him, he would have to kill them. He had a gun in the glove box.
On his feet again, he coughed once more, then pulled the van keys out. He walked around the side of the van and hopped in.
“Excuse me,” a female yelled.
He slammed his door. The trio started toward him.
He kept his head down as he turned the ignition. When he dropped it in gear, he looked up. Two of the three people were jogging his way. A man and a woman. The third person stayed back, standing at an odd angle.
He let his foot off the brake and pulled away from the loading dock.
His headlights flashed on the pair as he turned the van toward the road. The man looked familiar but he couldn’t place him.
The woman was another story. He recognized her instantly. She was one of the bitches from the restaurant’s parking lot where he had met Evelyn. He’d seen her a dozen times. She was the one who had followed them back here a few nights ago. He’d almost led her right to this building. It wouldn’t have mattered because he had vacated for good tonight, but she had seen his face during those times when he had picked up Eve.
Eve was supposed to be with him right now. When they find Eve’s body in the building, the police would interview her co-workers. This woman would know what he looked like.
He was getting close to the man and woman jogging toward him. As he was about to pass her, Mike yanked on the wheel and jammed the accelerator to the floor.
The woman didn’t have a chance.
Her head thunked on the hood of the van and then she fell under its tires. As the woman went under, blood hit the windshield.
Eve had talked about the woman after she had followed them that night. He couldn’t remember her name. The van’s front wheels bounced over her body, the suspension in the back bouncing a second time.
He swung the van toward the road and saw why the third person hadn’t approached as fast as the other two.
She had a cast on her left foot, a crutch under one arm. It was the same girl from the crime scene last night.
The van had corrected too far toward the road to turn it back around and aim at her. Her death would have to wait.
“But mark my words,” Mike said to himself. “I will come after you. I will learn your name and where you live and then I will find you. Nothing will stop me from sending you to my master.” He coughed. “Nothing will stop me from sending you to Hell.”
He smiled as an idea came to him.
“That’ll work. I’ll wait for her tonight. She can die within hours.”
He continued down the road knowing he would see her again very soon.
Chapter 14
Sarah stood still for an extra second to catch her breath. She had her balance for the moment and was afraid to move lest she lose it.
A man had exited a door at the back of the darkened loading dock. He hesitated behind his vehicle too long, as if in hiding. Then he suddenly appeared, got in his van and when Parkman and Vicky ran toward him, he swerved into Vicky, crushing her.
It all happened so fast. Vicky didn’t have a chance. She barely had a chance to go for her weapon.
Sarah started forward, using her crutch like an expert as she hobbled to Vicky’s side. Parkman was on his phone, screaming something into it about the location. He ran away to find a street sign.
As Sarah approached Vicky, she tossed the crutch aside and dropped to one knee. Blood seeped out each side of Vicky’s mouth. Her chest was caved in where the front of the van had connected with her body. She stared up at the stars, her eyes clouding over as her breath grew more labored and ragged.
“It’ll be okay, Vicky,” Sarah said. It was all she could think to say in the moment. “Just breathe. Force it in and out. Come on, Vicky, you can do it.” She held Vicky’s hand. “Parkman has help coming. Just hang in there.”
Vicky looked toward Sarah. Their eyes locked for a moment as she took her last breath. Her chest lowered, then stilled. The life left her eyes.
Sarah took a deep breath, shuddered, then lowered Vicky’s eyelids.
Parkman ran up. “Oh shit,” he mumbled.
“Help me to my feet,” Sarah said.
Parkman grabbed her under the arms and pulled her to one foot. She kept the broken one off the ground until he handed her the crutch.
“Police and ambulance are on their way,” he said.
“They’re not going to like this.”
“Agreed. We’re not even supposed to be here. This looks bad, Sarah. Especially with how the cops feel about you. Maybe you should let me handle this one.” He handed the car keys to her. “Take the car. Come back in half an hour as if you’re coming to pick me up. Go, before anyone gets here.”
“P
arkman, he was familiar.”
“What?”
“The driver of the van was familiar. I’ve seen his face before.”
“Where? Can you remember?”