The Redeemed (12 page)

One moment she was in a quiet free fall, the next crashing into the cement five stories below, face first.

Her last wish was that the airbags weren’t defective.

Chapter 21

More gunfire in the distance. It had to be Sarah.

“Take me that way.” Parkman pointed to where he heard the sound.

“Come on,” Hirst said.

They ran for the detective’s cruiser. Hirst squealed out of the area, a red flashing light on his roof.

When they were two blocks away, Hirst’s radio sounded. Gunfire had been heard and there was a car accident within four blocks of Vicky’s murder scene.

“What the hell is going on tonight?” Parkman asked.

“We don’t know if they’re related.”

“True. But it’s likely.”

After two more turns, Hirst swung onto the road that led to a mall. Parkman saw the flashing lights of a police cruiser parked on either side of a ruined car that sat more on the edge of the sidewalk than the road. From the distance Parkman couldn’t tell what the vehicle had hit that would cause that kind of damage.

When Hirst stopped the cruiser, Parkman got out. At first he didn’t recognize the damaged vehicle, but as he walked closer, he could tell it was the same color of their rental.

A sickening feeling filled his gut. For a brief second, his step faltered. It all came together in the next moment. He looked up and saw that the edge of the cement railing on the fifth floor was broken. The car must have been pushed off. The trunk had damage that wasn’t consistent with hitting the ground.

But all that could be figured out later.

He ran to the driver’s side. One of the officers waved him off, but Hirst motioned and the officer stepped back.

Parkman dropped to his knees as sirens wailed behind him.

Sarah was scrunched up in an impossible position. Blood covered her face and ran down her neck. Her head and chest rested against the airbag like a pillow. He touched her neck and felt for a pulse.

He couldn’t feel one.

He tried again.

A faint pulse at the base of her jaw beat under the touch of his finger.

“She’s alive!” he shouted for Hirst.

Vehicles stopped behind him.

“Sarah’s alive!” he shouted again.

What looked like a snake was wrapped in layers around her chest and parts of the seat.

“What the hell happened here?” someone said.

A hand landed on his shoulder.

“Hey man, paramedics are here and we have firemen here as well. Please step back so we can extricate the young woman.”

Stunned, Parkman stood up and allowed himself to be led away from the ruined rental car.

Nobody hurt Sarah and got away with it.

Nobody.

Chapter 22

Father Adams was shocked at what had happened in one of the buildings the church had bought. He was disgusted that the man responsible had stolen a church vehicle, run down a police officer and tried to kill the guest, Sarah Roberts, whom the police had asked to come help with the investigation.

He entered the hospital through the main sliding doors and started for the admissions desk.

“Good morning.” Father Adams spoke in his usual deep cadence when he wore the suit with his white collar. “I’m looking for a woman admitted recently. Her name is Sarah Roberts.”

The nurse shuffled papers aside, found her computer mouse and clicked.

“Can I have the name again?” she asked.

“Sarah Roberts,” Father Adams said, his voice patient.

“I’m sorry Father, are you family? Otherwise …” The nurse looked up. Adams could tell she wanted to help him as most people wanted to help a man of God, but something on her computer had cautioned her.

“Check the list of approved names,” he said. “You’ll see that Father Adams is on it.”

The woman clicked her mouse, then smiled before looking up. “You’re right. They’re expecting you. She’s on the second floor. Room 206.”

“Thank you.”

Father Adams walked away from the counter, passed the elevators and headed for the sign that showed the stairs. Once on the stairs, he pulled out his rosary and adjusted his jacket.

On the second floor he opened the door to chaos. Two nurses ran by pushing a stretcher. Another nurse called out a doctor’s name. Two people, one a patient having issues walking while the other held him up, leaned against the wall by the stairwell door, evidently making little progress to wherever they were headed.

Two young kids ran down the hall so fast they missed the nurse’s warning to walk.

Father Adams took it all in for a moment, breathed deep, then read the sign on the door across the hallway. He was four doors away from Sarah’s room. He started down the hall, nodded slightly to the couple leaning on the wall, stepped aside to let another stretcher pass and made it to the police officer sitting in a chair outside room 206.

“Must be a long shift,” Father Adams said when he saw the three empty coffee cups at the officer’s feet.

“Yes, Father,” the officer said as he looked at a list on his clipboard. “Father Adams?”

“In the flesh.”

“Go right in. They’re waiting for you.”

Father Adams pushed on the door and entered the room. Detective Hirst stood by the window. A man sat in a chair on the side and Sarah lay in the bed, her eyes closed, a couple of bandages on her face, the bed covers up to her chin.

“Gentlemen,” he said softly as he let the door close behind him.

Hirst turned around, and the man in the chair got up and approached. They shook hands.

“Glad you could come. I’m Parkman.”

“I saw you the night Father Alvin was found. You’re Sarah’s friend?”

He nodded. “We came to Los Angeles together to help Detective Hirst with his case.”

Father Adams turned to Hirst. “And how is that going, Detective?”

“I’m sorry about Father George,” Hirst said. “When you’re done here, we need to go through all the people who would have access to your vehicles and buildings.” Hirst coughed into his hand, wiped his mouth and continued. “The case has shifted. We are now looking for a local man who we suspect works for the church.”

Father Adams stepped deeper into the room. He moved toward the bed and looked down at Sarah’s sleeping form.

“Will she be okay?” he asked.

Hirst nodded. Parkman moved around Adams and stood by the head of the bed, almost like he was protecting her.

“She’ll pull through,” Parkman said.

“How badly was she hurt?” Adams asked.

“One cracked rib, a lot of bruising, and a few cuts on her face, but otherwise she’s fine. She was shot in her broken foot, but the Robo boot deflected the bullet. No harm at all.”

“Tough lady.” Father Adams turned his attention toward the detective again. “Tell me, how is it you suspect a member of the church? Couldn’t it be someone who stole our vehicle and broke into that building?”

Detective Hirst stepped closer to Adams, almost confrontational. “Father George was lured to that building. He walked into that sealed room where the gas killed him. At no time was he secured in any way. No markings on his wrists. He wouldn’t walk into that building, and that room, under his own steam unless he knew the man that accompanied him. Whoever is doing this works for the Catholic Church or is a part of it in some capacity.”

Father Adams looked at Sarah. “Sounds reasonable.” He clasped his hands in front of him. “There are a lot of people who work with the church and for the church. Deciding which person you’re looking for could become a challenge.”

Both men held a defiant posture, as if Father Adams was the threat. He attributed their gruffness to having to deal with what happened to Sarah.

“We aren’t too worried about locating this man,” Parkman said.

“How’s that?” Adams asked.

“Sarah here. She’s alive. The perp tried to use a snake to kill her. When the firemen pulled her out of the vehicle and the paramedics got to her, we were all amazed that she was in one piece. The snake died from the fall when its head smacked the dash and was severed by a piece of glass. It was wrapped around Sarah, which provided another layer of cushioning for her. What tried to kill her only saved her and when she wakes, she will tell us who the man was. She has seen his face, we’re sure.”

“Praise the Lord,” Father Adams said. “Gentlemen, I look forward to the end of this horrific siege.” He turned to Detective Hirst. “Please, come by any time and I will open my doors to the investigation at the Church level. You can have access to all our staff.”

“I appreciate that, Father.”

“Until then, gentlemen, I wish her a speedy recovery and I bid you both farewell.”

Father Adams pivoted and started for the door.

“Father?”

He stopped, his hand on the door knob.

“Yes, Detective?”

“You were the last one to meet with Father George before he left the church yesterday, weren’t you?”

Adams turned back around to face Hirst. “As a matter of fact, I was. How would you come by this information?”

“When asking about Father George at the church, people said they saw you two talking. Can you tell me what you discussed and where he might have been heading afterward?”

“Our discussion was of a private matter, a church matter, but I can assure you it had nothing to do with his death or this issue.”

“Were you aware of Father George’s history before he came to Los Angeles? What he was suspected of?”

“Am I being interrogated?” Father Adams asked.

Detective Hirst exchanged a glance with Parkman. Then he turned back to Adams.

“Can we meet in your office in a couple of hours? Say around two in the afternoon?”

“Absolutely. I’ll be there all day.”

“Fair enough. And Father, what happened to your ear?”

“Oh, this.” Father Adams touched the bandage at the base of his lobe. “I took a shortcut through the trees behind my church where I slipped and fell. A branch caught my ear and sliced part of the bottom off. Not a big thing, actually.” He opened the door. “Gentlemen.”

He pulled the door closed behind him, nodded at the cop in the chair, and headed out of the hospital, his step a little quicker.

Chapter 23

Sarah sat up in her hospital bed and pulled the food tray closer. Awake for an hour, Parkman was filling her in on everything the authorities were doing to locate the man who killed Vicky.

“I still don’t know how my injuries are so minimal after falling from the fifth floor in that car,” Sarah said. “Grateful, but mystified.”

Hospital food was getting better. A quinoa salad with a green juice to wash it all down.

“There was no weight in the back of the car,” Parkman offered. “Once the engine planted itself in the cement and the airbags did their job, it’s as if you had a head-on collision. Maybe Vivian made your body go limp in some way to protect you.”

Sarah shook her head between bites. “Amazing.” She wiped her mouth, then pushed the half-eaten salad away.

“What’s wrong?” Parkman asked.

“Nothing, just thinking about what happened.” She cocked her head sideways. “Something’s coming.”

“What do you mean?”

“Not sure. But I can feel it.”

“That’s interesting.” Parkman leaned forward. “How do you feel it?”

“I was afraid you’d ask that.” She looked at the window. “How high up are we?”

“Second floor.”

“What’s below that window?”

Parkman went to the window and opened it. He stuck his head out, looked around and leaned back in. “We’re facing the back of the hospital. There’s a couple of ambulances parked right below us. What does that matter?”

Her eyes glazed over as the premonition washed through her. Vivian’s presence was getting easier to feel, easier to channel.

“When the time comes, someone is going through that window. I just wanted to know what would catch the fall.”

“Is it Vivian?” Parkman asked as he retook his seat.

Sarah nodded slowly.

“Tell me,” Parkman said as he rubbed his hands together. “As an automatic writer, I’ve never asked you your stance on religion. You’re in Los Angeles to help to stop the murders of Catholic priests and I’m not even sure of your religion, your belief system.”

Sarah slipped her fork under her right buttock, making sure it was hidden.

“On one condition,” she said.

“What’s that?” Parkman asked.