The Abandoned (A Sarah Roberts Thriller Book 14)

by Jonas Saul

  “We have observers. Two cops at three o’clock.”

  Amber’s eyes followed a tour boat as it moved down the canal, then stopped on the cops.

  “They’re looking at a piece of paper,” Amber whispered.

  Sarah found a window where the officers were reflected. They looked at the paper, then at Sarah, then back at the paper. One nodded and started away. The other followed. They were headed toward a bridge that would bring them to Sarah’s side of the canal.

  “Shit,” Sarah snapped her fingers. “We have to go. They’re coming. If that’s my picture, they’ve made me.”

  “Stay close.”

  Amber picked up her pace. As they turned a corner, Sarah took a quick look back. One of the officers was on a radio.

  “They’re calling it in,” Sarah said. “We have to get off the streets.”

  “Half a block up.”

  Amber broke into a run with Sarah close behind. They turned another corner. All they needed was to get inside somewhere and wait, unless the backup consisted of hundreds of cops surrounding the area. Then Sarah was out of luck and her search for the black book would come to a screeching halt.

  “In here,” Sarah said as she got to a building where a door was slightly ajar.

  “No,” Amber said over her shoulder as she passed the door. “My window is two doors down.”

  Sarah followed Amber fifteen more feet, then bounded inside a building behind Amber almost stumbling into her. She stopped to catch her breath and look back outside. No one had followed them.

  “Looks like we got away in time,” Sarah said, trying to catch her breath.

  Amber closed and locked the front door. “Let’s go to the back. Out of view of the street. You can meet the other girls. They’re getting ready to start the day shift.”

  Red light basked the front room. The sofa against the wall was probably beige or cream, but the red light made it impossible to tell. Even the dark colored carpet could be brown or black, but came up a deep purple because of the light.

  Amber led her down a narrow corridor lined with doors. It made her think of a miniature version of a hotel.

  “These are the rooms the girls take their customers to,” Amber explained.

  At the end of the hall, Amber typed in a code on a keypad and the door beeped. When she opened it, sound burst through. Women in various stages of dress, or undress, sat around a long wooden table, some eating, some smoking. At the sight of Sarah, the din quieted. The girls were trendy, all but one of them with straightened hair, and good makeup. The sixth one had curly hair and olive skin, like an Italian. One girl had a pink bra and panties on, another a tube top. Three of them obviously had breast augmentation as they were larger than proportionate to their bodies. The only disconcerting image about any of them was their facial skin. The elasticity had faded years ago except on the youngest girl, but she was working on it, a cigarette in her hand. Definitely two of the girls had done hard drugs in their time, their half-lidded eyes taking Sarah in as if she posed a threat. None of the girls gave off a nasty scent. They were all drenched in perfume to the point where the air in the room had been stolen and replaced by the air hovering at a Woman’s Fragrance Exhibition.

  By the time Amber approached an older woman near the back of the room and whispered something to her, the room was dead quiet.

  The old woman nodded. “But first,” she said. “Hand this to her.”

  Amber took a piece of paper from the woman’s hand, looked at it, then passed it to Sarah.

  A passport photo of Sarah was featured in the center of the paper. Below that were instructions to contact the police if anyone saw this person. The Dutch alarm number, 112, was written on the bottom. Sarah was described as armed and dangerous. She was wanted for murder.

  That’s why those cops ran after us. If they know I’m here …”

  “It’s okay. Madam said it’s okay for now. She wants to hear your story.”

  “I’m putting all of you at risk by staying here.”

  “Not in this room, you’re not,” Madam said. “You’re safe here. Think of it as sanctuary.”

  “Okay.” Sarah steadied her hands. They had started to shake as she read the paper. People had died in Toronto last week. She thought she would never be able to escape a murder charge. And now in Amsterdam, they were hunting her for murder. Who did they think she killed, though? Was this Casper’s handiwork? Something to bring her in and start interrogations again?

  When it dawned on her, her eyes lit up enough that Amber noticed.

  “What?” Amber asked.

  “They think I killed Sven and that informant back in the warehouse.”

  “Oh shit,” Amber said, covering her mouth with her forearm. “I killed an informant because I didn’t empty Sven’s chamber.”

  Two girls at the table clapped.

  They must really hate cops here.

  “You have no idea the trouble the law gives us,” Amber said. “And they want free fucks to leave us alone. And get this, what we do is legal. Can you believe it?”

  “We have to get to work,” Madam said. “Tell us why you’re here, Sarah. Maybe we can help.”

  Sarah took a seat at the table and told Amber, the Madam, and the other girls her plan and how she was duped by Inspector Dekker. Once she had Dekker, she could go after James Wong.

  Madam lit a cigarette, blew the smoke out slowly and nodded.

  “We can help. I want to help. Because of Wong. His crew have made a bad name for our district. We will do what you need.” The girls around the table were nodding. “There’s a room downstairs for the S&M clientele. Take your prisoner down there. No one will hear a thing.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Madam nodded.

  “And Sarah.” Amber touched her arm. “When you’re done with Dekker, I will give them my cell phone. The video is proof you didn’t kill anyone.”

  “But you’ll get charged with murder.”

  “The way I see it is, Sven shot the cop, I shot Sven in self-defense. We ran from the warehouse because we were scared. It’ll all work out. Come on, let’s go downstairs to the dungeon so you can familiarize yourself with all the whips and chains we keep down there.”

  Amber sounded like a little girl, having fun at summer camp.

  “I need to make a phone call. When can I do that?”

  “In my office,” Madam said. “Amber, go with her and block my number.”

  “Let’s do the phone call first and get it out of the way.”

  They headed out of the room and down the hallway toward the front office, Sarah’s stomach doing flips at what Parkman might have found out about Aaron.

  She only hoped Aaron was safe or she might lose her mind.

  Chapter 27

  Breathing was a chore. Every intake, every exhale, a rattle vibrated somewhere in his lungs, making him want to cough. He’d coughed so much over the past hour since they had brought him back to his cell, each spasm more painful than the last, so he tried to repress it. Residual liquid in his lungs surfaced when he lay down, forcing a cough, sometimes as violent as gagging, but then short breaths in and out calmed things back to normal.

  Enduring water torture had been hell. Defenseless, tied to the table, no options of escape available, nothing he could do but lie there and gag and drown. The horror of it, the thought that this was the end, panic in the brain that death was imminent, caused him to shudder uncontrollably when he was brought back to his baking hot prison room.

  When they had tossed him onto the hard-packed floor, an outburst of coughing eventually left him moaning.

  Where was Sarah? Was she safe? Why did these people want Sarah? How many days had it been?

  He would watch the rise and fall of the sun. He would mentally log the days. He had seen most of the property except near the big house. He needed a mental account of everything he could get. But whatever happened, he needed to think smart, play smart, and try to stay alive.

  Sarah wo
uld come. She would bring help.

  When he realized he was waiting to be saved by his girlfriend, he didn’t know if he should laugh or cry.

  Someone approached from the outside. Aaron had propped himself up against one of the outer walls near the back of the room to keep his lungs elevated. He brought his lower legs in until he sat cross-legged on the floor.

  He fought off another cough as the lock was worked on. Then the door opened. The sun was almost down, only a yellowish, orange dusk was left in its place. Aaron idly wondered if this room was strategically placed on top of a little hill where the sun would wreak havoc on the inhabitants throughout the day. Were they coming to ask more questions about Sarah? More torture?

  Three men entered, two of them holding another man up. There was enough light left in the sky to see the man clearly. He wore a mask of blood and mucus on his face. He breathed through his open mouth as his nose was broken.

  They let him go in the center of the room where he flopped down and remained still. The third man tossed a bottle of water to Aaron and something in a brown bag, then the trio exited the room and locked the door.

  Feverishly, Aaron opened the brown bag at the smell of bread. He hadn’t eaten since lunch on the day they had taken him. By the time the bag made it to his hands, he could already smell its contents. Ravenous, he bit into the sandwich and felt like he was eating sunshine. He uncapped the water and drank so fast, it spilled down his chin and into the back of his throat, which caused a spasm. Aaron choked back the water, spit out the bread and gagged again. Violent coughing overcame him and he almost tipped the water over, spilling its contents when he rolled to the side to cough.

  After a minute he got himself together, breathing slowly and chanced another small bite of the sandwich. Ham and cheese. It had never tasted so good. He watched the immobile man in the center of the room while he took small sips from the water bottle. During the rest of his first meal in Mexico, he didn’t cough again.

  Once the sandwich was gone and half the water, he realized he should’ve asked his cell mate when was the last time he had eaten. The man still hadn’t moved. He was bone-rail thin. His clothes were too big for him, the pants tied with a rope in place of a belt. It almost appeared as if the man lost weight while wearing the same clothes and never went shopping for new ones.

  Aaron never thought that drinking water again, as much as he ached for it, would ever be such an issue. What about swimming? Could he ever dive, put his head underwater, swim underwater ever again?

  One step at a time. At least now he was drinking.

  The man on the floor grunted.

  “Hey, you okay?” Aaron asked. “You speak English?”

  The man moved. He tried to roll over, but couldn’t do it. He grunted and didn’t move again. Only the loud breathing told Aaron the man was still alive.

  The sandwich felt heavy inside his stomach. Maybe after not eating for days, or however long it had been, he should’ve started with something lighter like soup. Not that he had any options here. His stomach grumbled. He drank the rest of the water without a thought of saving any for tomorrow’s heat, rolled to the side and tried to support his head with straw.

  The man in the center of the room didn’t move. The light seeping in from the outside slowly disappeared. Aaron closed his eyes. Tomorrow. He would do something tomorrow. He would steal a weapon, attack one of the men. The food and water would give him strength. He was too much of a fighter to sit idle on his hands.

  Tomorrow he would kill some of his Mexican captors.

  Tomorrow he would leave this place.

  Aaron fell asleep with hopelessness on his mind.

  Chapter 28

  Sarah sat behind Madam’s oak desk and waited while Amber dialed the numbers that blocked the line. When Sarah dialed Parkman’s cell from memory, he answered right away.

  “Sarah?”

  “Tell me you’ve got something.”

  “I do.”

  Sarah dropped her head to the desk. “Oh, what a relief.”

  “I’ve got something, but I don’t think you’re going to like it.”

  She raised her head slowly. “What it is? Tell me.”

  “Aaron’s not answering his home phone or his cell. Nothing. I went to the dojo. Daniel and Benjamin were in. They told me about a Mexican student—”

  “What? Mexican?”

  “Yes, does that mean something to you?”

  “Casper said something about Mexico and how Aaron would need me in Mexico. This is freaking me out, Parkman.”

  “Wait a sec. Are you calling Vivian ‘Casper’ now?”

  “It wasn’t Vivian. Forget it. Go on.”

  Casper had a lot of explaining to do. He knew a hell of a lot more than he was letting on. He had to be toying with her on the plane. Standing a few streets down when she and Amber came out of the warehouse, blaming Dekker for his not being there. Always near, always watching. And he knew about a Mexican connection to Aaron. Casper was fucking with her family, her people. Casper had some serious explaining to do.

  Parkman’s voice brought her back to the call. “Daniel told me about the student who was causing a disturbance at the dojo and how Aaron gave him back his month’s fee and explained that they weren’t prepared to continue teaching him. Before the guy left, he said he was looking for you. Said he’d get in touch with me, too. Then he threatened Aaron and said he’d see him again very soon, according to Benjamin.”

  “How did Aaron take that?” Sarah asked, as she tried to work out the details.

  “He told the guy to leave and never come back. Once the dojo closed that night, no one has seen Aaron since.”

  “Oh man.” Sarah felt weak. She needed the desk to lean on. How could she keep going if she lost Aaron because of someone she pissed off or something she did? “Anything else, Parkman?”

  Amber had moved to the other side of the office where she pulled the curtain back and peeked out at the street.

  “The boys have a key to Aaron’s apartment. They took me up. Nothing seems out of place. So I went into police mode and started knocking on the doors of Aaron’s neighbors. Got Daniel and Benjamin to help.”

  “Where was Alex all this time?” Sarah asked.

  “On a date.”

  “Okay, did you learn anything?”

  “One of Aaron’s neighbors thought she heard a ruckus and looked out her peephole in the door. Two tall well-built Mexican men escorted Aaron out of his apartment. The neighbor said Aaron didn’t look himself. She thought he was on drugs. I called it in to a few friends on the force here in Toronto, even got Detective Diner to look into it, but nothing has turned up so far. Absolutely nothing. No ransom notes. No calls, nothing. It’s like Aaron disappeared into thin air. I’m sorry, Sarah. I’m on this. Twenty-four, seven.”

  Sarah bit down on her knuckles to avoid crying. “I know, Parkman, I know. Just keep looking. I’ll do what I can from here. I know of someone who might have inside knowledge to what’s happened to Aaron. If I learn anything over here, I’ll get back to you.”

  “Stay safe, Sarah.”

  “Watch your back, Parkman. This doesn’t look good.”

  “It’ll all work out. If someone snatched Aaron to get to you, they know not to hurt him. That would only piss you off. They need proof of life. If it’s the Mexicans, they know that better than anybody. We’ll get him back, Sarah.”

  “Okay. Hey Parkman?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You know I love you, right?”

  “Of course, Sarah. I love you, too.”

  “Let’s get my man back. Okay?”

  “My first priority. I’ve dropped everything for this.”

  “Okay, stay safe.”

  She hung up and dropped her head onto her forearms to cry. Amber moved around in the room, her footsteps getting closer. Her hand rested on Sarah’s back.

  “I’m sorry,” Amber said. “Sounds like you’re having a bad day.”

  Sarah lifted her
head and wiped at the tears. “Let’s get this show on the road. I need to get to Dekker and I need to find that man from yesterday, the one with the white hair. He knows about Mexico and if he doesn’t tell me what he knows, I’ll kill it out of him.”

  “Uh, Sarah, you can’t kill something out of someone. If you kill them, then they’re dead. Boom. No more information.”

  “I’ll find a way to get the information and then kill him, or do it the other way around. Doesn’t matter to me as long as he’s dead.” She shot up from the desk, wiped the last of her tears, rubbed her hands on her jeans and grabbed a Kleenex off the desk. “Nobody fucks with my family. Nobody. It’s time to start hurting people.” She gritted her teeth.