The Kill (30 page)

The Hungarian cop knew a lot. He’d done his research. But could he have found all that out since she’d been here? Or were they following her since she’d arrived in Budapest?

Then it hit her.

English had said something about doing his job last night. He was with the officers this morning at the hotel. She had originally thought he was there to aid in the identification of the suspect, but he was there in an official capacity.

English was a cop and he and his cop buddies had been following her. The Hungarian police had been onto her for weeks now, watching, researching and keeping tabs on her. She was sure of it.

But why? What had she done? Nothing on their soil yet. She hadn’t even helped an unsuspecting accident victim or saved anyone’s life because Vivian hadn’t been in touch.

Her head shot up. She snapped her fingers and smiled.

That had to be it. Vivian was quiet because she was being watched. Vivian didn’t want the watchers to learn anything more than they already had. I’m sure of it.

The cop had been watching her as she ruminated. He jumped a little when she snapped her fingers, but remained quiet.

“You seem to know a lot about me,” Sarah said.

“Not really. We ran your passport and got the usual basics. Hometown, parents, schools, you know. Although we did find something out that was quite unusual.”

Sarah sipped her coffee again. She didn’t know when she’d get another one that tasted this good. “What was that?”

“You’ve been a busy girl. You’re something of a hero back in the States. You want to tell me about that?”

“Nope.”

“Why not? It may help you here.”

There it is. They want information on her Automatic Writing. They want to know how it works and why she was in their country. Was she here because she knew something?

Her abilities scared people because they weren’t something that most people had encountered. The unknown always did serve a dish of nerves to the ignorant.

That was why she tried to remain an unknown. She had tried to keep under the radar for so many years. It was people like Parkman who had hunted her down and kept tabs on her activities for years. Once he’d compiled an accurate picture of her and what she had been up to, all it did was pique the interest of everyone from psychics to scientists.

“I did nothing wrong in your country. We have nothing to discuss. When you’re done here, you will either drive me to the airport so I can continue my journey or you will deliver me to my embassy where I will continue my journey. Either way you play it, I’m leaving this fucking place and heading home. So go ahead. Give me your worst.”

She sat back and took a couple deep gulps of her coffee, draining half of it. The warmth soothed her.

She felt better. Much better. If they had been watching her, that meant they probably bugged her room. They may even have cameras in her room the fucking perverts. That was why they would know she was in the eighth district for three nights in a row. English and his crew could have been watching her for days and she wouldn’t have known if they were really good.

Sarah knew she wasn’t as talented as an international spy. She was quite aware of her abilities. If professionals were following her, there was a high chance she wouldn’t know they were there.

Unless Vivian told her about it. But she hadn’t. Other than her parents, only Parkman knew how she worked and that Sarah and Vivian’s only goals were to stop criminals or to save people from dying who weren’t supposed to go yet. If it wasn’t their time, Sarah was dispatched. It was that simple.

But she would never be a lab experiment. And if that’s what was happening here then Vivian had saved her by staying uncharacteristically silent.

Sarah had to remember that there may be times when things were at work that would be greater than her. Things that even she had to figure out. She had to learn to trust.

That sucks. Trust is fucked. I trust no one.

Trust had always been an anonymous rotting corpse. You know it once lived somewhere, but you can now see it’s only good for worm food. Worthless shit.

Imre stood up and left the room without another word. She could only assume he was watching her from the other side of the two-way glass.

She lifted her paper cup and drained the rest of the warm coffee. It tasted great as it was probably after three or four in the afternoon and she hadn’t eaten anything since the continental breakfast at the hotel.

The door burst open after about a five minute wait. The noise and speed at which the door opened made her jump back.

Reflexes were great but sometimes they sucked too.

“Lucky for you I wasn’t still drinking my coffee.”

“Threats? Is that how we’re going to start our conversation?”

The man speaking was the immigration officer she’d first met at the hotel. The one who had smiled like he was up to something. Like he knew something.

Behind him stood Imre.

“Is this the bad cop, good cop routine? Come on, do something else. I’ve seen this a thousand times. You’re going to yell and curse and then threaten me with a bunch of unfounded charges and try to scare the shit out of me. Then he,” she pointed at Imre, “will offer me a deal for a confession and everything will go away and be all right again.”

She paused and looked directly at the immigration prick.

“Let me save you the time. I know what you’re up to. I also know that I haven’t broken any of your laws. So arrest me or let me leave because you’re not just wasting your time, you’re wasting mine too.”

The immigration officer only moved to look back at Imre. For a second she actually thought she was getting to them.

The asshole smiled and looked back at her. He leaned down and placed both hands on the table.

“Have it your way.” He stood back up, adjusted his suit jacket and said, “Arrest her.”

Sarah’s eyes widened a little. “On what charge?”

“Conspiracy to commit murder and attempted murder.”

“What? That’s ridiculous. You can’t prove any of that.”

“Oh yes I can. We have everything we need on you to prove that you are hunting a man by the name of Armond Stuart. You went to great lengths to nab him in the United States before you came here and now you have crossed International borders in your pursuit of hunting a known fugitive of the law. You are not a Federal agent or a police officer in any capacity. Therefore, your search for Armond has only one goal. And your attempt to steal a weapon last night was only to further your aims. I know all about you, Sarah Roberts.”

He stood back up to his full height.

“You will be in a Hungarian prison doing hard labor for dozens of years when I’m done with you.”

Chapter 4

The prison cell was cold and damp. Sarah knew this was all part of their goal to unsettle her by putting her in the farthest jail cell at the back of the building. It was the lowest spot in the building. The stone floor collected moisture like it was perpetually thirsty.

The single mattress was stained and smelled of urine but it was softer than the damp stone floor. She laid back on it and focused on not inhaling too much of the acidic odor.

I’ve been in worse places. This is a Holiday Inn compared to the shed with the hole in the ground I escaped from months ago.

She lifted her shirt up over her nose. Breathing got easier as the aroma in the room filtered through her own clean smell.

How long would this charade last?

If there was one thing Sarah had learned in the past, it was that things were not always as bad as they seemed. Something was up with that immigration officer. He had a bone to pick with her somehow. Whatever his problem was, he was the least of her worries.

Her family didn’t have the money for lawyers. If these Hungarians really wanted to throw the proverbial book at her, she didn’t know what she could do. Although, they
would
have to prove those charges…and - her status being what it was in the States - she was sure her embassy would get involved in any court action, if it ever got that far.

The problem was she actually
had
come all this way to find and kill Armond but she wasn’t sure how they knew that, or what intelligence they had to back it up.

Maybe this was an intervention. Sarah knew that it wasn’t who she was as a person. Her inner struggle since she’d been here was how could she pull the trigger? If she found Armond walking down the street, how could she just walk up and shoot him? She saved people. She helped people. Her goal was hope. Hope for the human race. Not murder.

Too lofty
, she thought.

But that was why she had to kill Armond. To keep safe the other girls he would attack and kill. Sarah knew that a man like Armond would never stop. The recent debacle at the Mormon Compound would only slow him down.

Somewhere along the way, Sarah had to stop him.

A door opened down the hallway somewhere. She could hear multiple pairs of shoes echoing along the chamber.

No one talked.

Maybe she was getting a cell mate? With men you never know what they’ll deliver. She wouldn’t put it past them to give her a rapist for a cell mate and in the morning say sorry, they made a mistake. That kind of thing would fuck her over and keep their hands clean in the process. Then they’d have her for murder.

The rapist would be the one fucked over in this case
.

As the footsteps neared she had gotten off the bed and edged back into the corner where a small amount of moisture had pooled into a tiny puddle.

Then a trio of men stepped into view.

All three she recognized. Imre the arresting detective, the immigration officer and her personal stalker: Officer Parkman.

He stood there with a half smile and a toothpick in his mouth.

“Are you serious?” Sarah asked.

Imre was reaching for keys but stopped. “What?”

Sarah continued to stare at Parkman. “All this way?”

Parkman shrugged his shoulders and tilted his head. “I know, I know.”

“All this way and you still eat those fucking toothpicks like they’re made of chocolate.”

Imre turned and looked at Parkman. “You fly from the States, take a leave of absence and vouch for her and all she has to say to you is something about your toothpick?”

Parkman turned to him. “You don’t know Sarah. This is her way of showing she’s happy to see me. If she wasn’t, she’d attack the bars trying to get at me. She’s quite the girl. I’ve never met a tougher person in my life. And that goes for cops. What she’s been through—”

“Hey!” Sarah yelled. “Enough. If you’ve come to get me out then let’s do this. But don’t come down here and treat these men with fictitious stories of bravery. Anything I’ve been through in my life any other person could’ve done.” She stopped, stepped forward and raised her index finger as if testing the air. “This isn’t Sarah Day, is it? Because if this is Sarah Day, someone should’ve told me.”

All three men stared at her. Imre still held the keys in his hand. No one moved.

Finally Parkman bumped Imre’s arm. He jolted and mumbled something.

After trying two keys, Imre got the cell door open and beckoned for Sarah to follow them. They left the dank basement cells behind, processed her paperwork and gave her luggage to Parkman.

“Where will you be staying before your plane leaves?” Imre asked.

“Back to the Best Western for another night and then we’re gone.”

“Don’t deviate.” Imre warned.

The immigration officer was strangely quiet the whole time. When Sarah got to the exit doors she turned back and looked directly at him for a moment. The look on his face was brutal and told her a story. She was only twenty feet away from him and she could see absolute fury on his face. Something was definitely wrong. He couldn’t just hate her because of her reputation. She’d done nothing personally to him. But that couldn’t be right. This ran deep. This was personal
for
him. He had a stake in her somehow and Sarah was determined to find out what it was before she left Hungary.

Outside in Parkman’s car, he turned to her and asked, “You hungry?”

“Sure, since we’re in Hungary, let’s be Russian to Turkey and…” She looked up at him. He wasn’t smiling. “Okay, I know, juvenile, but when I was a kid it was funny.”

“You were a kid once?”

He put the rental in gear and pulled away from the curb.

“What happened? What did you do? You know how hard it was for me to get you out of there?”

Sarah shook her head.

“Hard.”

“Oh,” was all she said.

“At first they said they had all these charges and then after a little scrutiny I found out they actually had nothing on you. They couldn’t even find the gun they claim you stole off one of their cops last night. They had no proof but I still had to threaten to bring in American lawyers from the embassy. I explained that holding you would create an international incident. Which one of them would want to lose their jobs first, I asked them. For a minute I thought I would be arrested myself. It was Imre who relented. That immigration officer was a prick all the way. Did you do anything specific to him?”