The Victim (16 page)

“Needle?”

“Nothing. Look, we have to locate Sarah Roberts—”

“We know. Everyone’s on the street watching for her.”

“Whoever is after Sarah is taking out her friends too.”

“Is that this Ryan guy’s connection?”

“Yeah, but who else is connected?” Waller thought out loud. “Who’s gonna die next?”

“When we find Sarah, that should be the first question we ask—”

“Wait! I got it. When we were at the mall this morning, she mentioned a name. Parker or something. Park, Parking, Parkmon, Parkman. Yeah, that’s it. Find me this Parkman. I think he’s a cop. He would’ve been up here in Toronto to attend her funeral.”

“You don’t mean Parkman as in the cop friend of Sarah’s who showed up here a few hours ago to help, do you?”

“Why is he there?” Waller asked, surprised as hell.

“He said he saw the attention Sarah was getting on the news and wanted to help bring her in. Get this. He said he wants to clear things up. That’s not a popular thing to say when we lost so many men this morning.”

“Make sure he sticks around. I’m on my way.”

“Done.”

Waller tossed the phone on the passenger seat, did a U-turn and raced south on Yonge.

It took him ten minutes to get to HQ.

“Where is he?” he asked Vince as he approached his desk.

“In the lunchroom.”

Waller detoured left, dodged a couple of desks and entered the lunchroom. It was early enough that the day shift coming on wouldn’t be using it yet.

Parkman sat by himself, nursing a coffee.

“You’re Parkman?” Waller asked.

He nodded and sipped his coffee around a soaked toothpick that stuck out of the side of his mouth.

“We may need your help after all.”

Parkman looked up. “What happened to your face?”

“Car accident.” Waller waited a beat, and then added. “With Sarah.”

“Sarah? She okay?”

Now you look interested.

“Yeah, she walked away from it.”

Parkman smiled.

“What’s funny?”

“Her luck.”

“What’s luck got to do with it?”

“You know that bullshit saying, ‘you should see the other guy’? Well, in Sarah’s case, it’s actually true.”

Waller grabbed a coffee cup, poured one for himself and sat down opposite Parkman. “What are you doing here?”

“Came to pick up my girl.”

“
Your
girl?” Waller asked, stupefied.

“I’d say so. I think of her as the daughter I didn’t have.”

“Well,
your
girl is in a lot of trouble. Are you aware of what happened at the mall this morning?”

“Of course. And it’s very clear in the mall security footage that Sarah isn’t to blame for what happened.”

“Not directly.”

“How’s that?”

“Those men were obviously after her. They tried again tonight.” Waller pointed at the injuries on his face. “Because of Sarah, a lot of officers are dead.”

“Oh, come on, you can’t lay that at her doorstep. That’s like saying it’s Ozzy Osbourne’s fault people killed themselves after listening to his music. What’s Ozzy’s weapon, a pencil? All he did was write music and sing. Same with Sarah. It’s not her fault that someone wants to kill her and decides to kill someone else in their pursuit of her. Doesn’t wash and you know it.” Parkman shook his head, the toothpick slipping from the corner of his mouth. He watched it hit the floor, looking dejected. “Shit, got any toothpicks in this place?”

Waller ignored him. “Your American friends lied to me and my men.”

“How’s that?”

“This morning, they said we were apprehending a sex offender. Sarah was the bait. The perp didn’t show. Instead these guys in overcoats showed up and started killing everybody in their way.”

“First, they aren’t my friends. They’re assholes who have hunted Sarah for too long and—”

“They’re dead now.”

“Good, maybe they’ll leave her alone.”

Waller frowned. “I just said they’re dead.”

“These guys don’t die,” Parkman said. “There’s always more of them.”

“How comforting.”

Parkman offered a smile.

“What can you tell me about Dolan?” Waller asked.

Parkman shrugged. “He’s a friend. Helped Sarah out of a pickle about five years ago. Got shot for his efforts. Got kidnapped about a year ago by the people hunting Sarah. I was there. Overall good guy. Would die for Sarah.”

“He just did.”

Parkman leaned over the table, his face getting close to Waller. “What?”

“He’s dead. Dolan Ryan was found in the foyer of his home, dead.”

Parkman leaned back, dropped his head. “Shit, Sarah’s gonna be pissed.”

“He rented a room for Sarah at a hotel on Yonge Street last night. I ran a check on him, had a uniform stop by to ask him if he knew where Sarah would turn up next. Found him dead.”

“That’s not good. Dolan had been through a lot with Sarah.” Parkman shook his head.

Waller pulled out a pad and pen. “Who else would Sarah turn to? I need names. They may be in danger.”

“Esmerelda Hall. She’d be next. After that, her parents. Her father, Caleb has always been a big supporter of what she does.”

Waller stopped writing. “What does she do?”

“She’s an Automatic Writer. Her dead sister channels through Sarah to give her prophetic messages that are designed to help someone. Sarah does what the message says and voila, someone is saved. The American friends you mentioned earlier have always wanted her for testing. They’re probably the ones who orchestrated her funeral a few days ago. Bastards. Her parents are going to be pissed about that.”

“Automatic Writer, eh? Next you gonna tell me she reads tarot cards and looks into crystal balls. Come on, you don’t believe that shit, do you?”

Parkman stared back at him, his eyes firm. He didn’t respond.

“Okay,” Waller said as he brought the pen back to the pad. “Who else should I write down?”

“Me.”

Waller met his gaze. “You?”

“Sarah and I go way back. If someone’s out to kill Sarah and her known associates, then I’d be on that list.”

“You’re surrounded by a bunch of cops in here. I’m sure you’re safe.”

“Was Sarah safe this morning at the mall surrounded by a bunch of cops?”

Waller felt physically ill.

“Sorry, that was uncalled for.”

Waller ignored him. He got up from his chair, leaving his coffee untouched. He needed to plug these names into the system and get someone to check on Esmerelda and Sarah’s parents.

“Wait,” Parkman said.

Waller stopped at the door but didn’t turn around.

“I used to know a guy.”

Waller waited another moment, and then turned to face Parkman.

“And?”

“Crazy dude. Had to arrest him numerous times because the courts just kept putting him back on the streets. I figured it was because he was so fucking ugly.”

“What about it?”

“He suffered from something called ectodermal dysplasia. It messes with your facial features among other things.”

“Where are you going with this?” Waller asked.

“It makes the hair brittle, the finger and toenails prone to infection. Pigment of the skin can be affected and the teeth. Man, the teeth, they come in like a vampire’s. Most sufferers get dental implants. Oh, and the sweat glands are not developed because of some inactive gene or protein. These people don’t sweat.”

Waller started to put it together. “Are you talking about the guy on the mall footage? The ugly one?”

“Oh, say, you think I could get some toothpicks up in here?”

Waller turned to leave but stopped at the door. “Stick around a while. And I want my fucking gun back.”

“Your gun?”

“Sarah stole it from my holster in last night’s accident.”

Parkman smiled. “I still need toothpicks.”

Toothpicks?
Waller asked himself.
What the fuck does he need toothpicks for?

Chapter 20

Sarah woke with a start. For a second she had no idea where she was or what she was doing there. The smell of fresh coffee filled the air as she swung her legs off the cot. She rubbed her face and walked into the bathroom. After using the facilities, she headed over to the makeshift kitchen Aaron had set up in the back of the dojo.

“Good morning,” Aaron said.

“You always this chipper in the morning?”

He turned his head sideways as if he was thinking. “Yeah, you could say that. Any day I wake up still breathing is a good day.”

“Are there days you wake and you’re not breathing?”

He laughed, low and soft.

“There are a few people out there I wish would stop breathing for ten minutes,” Sarah said. “That’s all I ask. Ten minutes. Not much, is it?”

Aaron pivoted, two coffees in his hands. He gave her one.

“Ten minutes?” he asked. “That’s all?”

She shrugged. “Yeah, why not. Would solve a lot of the world’s problems if we could just get those certain people to stop breathing for ten minutes.”

“We talking about the Rapturites?”

“Don’t remind me.”

“Sorry.”

She sipped from her cup. “Mmm, this is good. You made it just right.”

“Thanks. You ready for more abuse?”

“I’m starting to think that was why I was born. I’m sore as hell after yesterday.”

“Sorry.”

She glanced his way. “Stop saying sorry. I’m talking about the whole day. Fighting in the mall, car accident in the evening. Then sparring with you. I feel like I fell off a motorcycle and was run over by a semi.”

“Before we start, we’ll do some stretches. Something of a yoga, toxin-release thing.”

“I need to make a couple phone calls first.”

“Sure. Phone’s over on that far wall near my office door.”

“I got my own cell, thanks. They’d trace it back here.”

He sipped from his cup. “You don’t think they’ll trace your cell?”

“Not this cell. It’s not mine. Found it after the car accident last night.”

“You just happened to find a cell?”

She shrugged. “Yeah.”

“Oh.”

They drank their coffees in silence, both looking out the dojo’s front window. Sarah couldn’t get what Waller had said out of her head.

We haven’t got far to go. Don’t worry. We’ll get to the bottom of this.

What could he have meant? Where had he been taking her? Or was it an innocent comment?

“You okay?” Aaron asked.

“Yeah, why?”

“Your face. You looked angry for a second.”

“Just trying to figure out what Detective Waller meant by something he said last night.”

“Who’s that and what did he say?”

“He’s the cop who I agreed to meet with so we could clear up what happened at the mall. We were only together five minutes before the accident and then I was attacked again. That was before I came here.”

“What did he say?” Aaron asked as he rinsed his cup in the small sink.

“He said something about not having to go far and that we would work it out. It sounded strange. Like he was taking me to some back alley or something. Like he was going to work it out his way.”

“You don’t think he just meant to say that the police station wasn’t far away?”

She shook her head. “No. This was different. I trust my gut on these things.”

“Then it was good that you were in the accident. How long will your calls take? We should get started.”

“Five minutes.”

“Deal. I’ll start warming up.”

Sarah walked back to the cot and grabbed the cell phone from the side counter.

Two missed calls. Both were from the girl she talked to last night who had a problem with some guy—the owner of the phone. She only hoped the phone hadn’t been disconnected yet.

Sarah dialed Dolan’s number directly. Two rings later a man answered.

“Who is this?” Sarah asked.

“Who’s this?” the man asked in a stronger voice.

“I’m looking for Dolan. Put him on.”