The Redeemed (24 page)

“How did you manage to get to the crypt without getting burned or blown apart?” Hirst asked.

“When the first bomb hit, I landed in the baptismal font. The water protected me and the marble exterior insulated me. Until it cracked.”

“Then what?” Aaron asked.

“I got out, kept low and crawled for the crypt, soaking wet. At the top of the stairs, I remember faltering, like I was going to pass out. But part of the roof crashed down, snapping me out of it. I made it down the stairs and rolled into the far corner of the crypt.”

“You passed out with your mouth and nose directly over the farthest grate,” Hirst added. “When oxygen was pulled up to fuel the fire, the grates kept a constant flow of air passing by your face. As the crypt filled with water, all the drainage grates at the front of the crypt kept most of the water away from you.”

Parkman shook his head. “No one else could’ve survived that. Incredible.”

The room was inundated with cards and flowers. It was like everybody in Los Angeles thought she was some kind of second coming. The media had picked up the miraculous survival of Sarah Roberts. And not just her survival, but how she got everyone out beforehand.

“All these cards,” Hirst said, “came from officers and their families and the other hundred we haven’t opened came from people who were in the church. You have a lot of people out there wanting to thank you.”

“Too bad Vivian doesn’t get the thanks. It was all her doing.”

Hirst smiled. “Sarah, you stepped up. When I didn’t listen to you, you put a gun to my neck and made me listen. Nobody has ever done that to me and then got a thank you after. You have saved so many lives, cops’ lives, our lives, that every cop in the country—scratch that—continent, wants to shake your hand.”

“Have I altered my image, my public relations persona? Fixed the preconceived idea of who Sarah Roberts is?”

“Absolutely. As far as I can tell.”

“Good, because there’s an ex-cop that I need to find soon.”

“Who are you talking about?” Aaron asked.

“A cop I knew when I was eight or nine years old. But I don’t think he’s a cop anymore.”

“I can help you with that,” Hirst said. “It’s the least I can do.”

“Thanks, but I have to do this one on my own.” She cleared her throat, coughed, cleared it again. “Any chance you can bring me up to speed on what you’ve got on Adams?”

Hirst shook his head. “Nope. Sorry. You’re out for sure, now. The fight for you is over. I could never authorize you, as a civilian, to come back into the fold after what happened. You’re out, Sarah.”

“I’m out when Adams is out.”

Hirst snapped his head back in surprise. “Parkman, can you tell her?”

“Nope. Sorry. She doesn’t listen to me.”

“Then who does she listen to?” Hirst asked.

“Vivian and my intuition,” Sarah said. “That’s it.”

“You’ve got a broken foot. You were shot and wrapped up by a hungry python for dinner. You had to kill it by slamming your rental car into the cement from the top of a five-story parking garage. Then you walked away from an explosion that leveled a church, and you want to go back in when you’re getting a free pass to leave, go home and sleep for a century?”

“That’s why I love her,” Aaron said. “Only death will stop this one. And even then, I wouldn’t be so sure. Her sister lingers after death. I wonder what Sarah would be like …”

“Aaron, if you don’t stop talking about death, I might have to cause one.”

“Got it.”

They smiled at each other. She winked at him, then turned her attention back to Hirst. Since she met Hirst, he’d aged some. Or maybe she hadn’t looked close enough. Lines formed around his eyes when he smiled. A streak of gray colored his hair on each side just above the ears. The sclera of his eyes had darkened with blood and his tie was undone. The stress over the past couple of weeks had taken a toll, but Sarah knew the only way to stop Father Adams was to involve her.

“Detective Hirst, I’m here to help. I know I’m physically out, but I can still help. I promise when Father Adams is dealt with, I will leave L.A. But until then, I believe I can still help. Tell me about Adams’ finances. What have you discovered?”

Hirst looked at Parkman, then back at Sarah. “Did he tell you?”

“No. But I suspect you found something. I don’t believe this was as religion based as I previously thought.”

Hirst took a seat beside Parkman at a small table in the corner of Sarah’s room. Aaron stayed on the chair beside her bed where he held her hand.

“I’ll tell you because you deserve that much. But you’re still out.”

“You think I can do anything with this?” She gestured along her body. “Now, what have you got?”

“Large amounts of money have disappeared from a few of the local churches. The dead priests had been working together to expose Father Adams but they were probably all afraid to step forward without absolute proof. Each of those priests had been suspected of crimes in the past themselves, and Father Adams was tasked to cover it up. The Church deals with these things internally. Saying anything against Father Adams might have exposed them as well. Perhaps speaking out would cause Father Adams to be replaced and they’d have to deal with someone else. Someone they didn’t know.”

“Speculation after speculation,” Parkman said.

“But what have you discovered about Father Adams personally?” Sarah asked.

“Building materials were billed to the church.”

“For what? To build what?”

Hirst steepled his hands. “With all the computers today, the research available to us, and the financial accountability of such an organization, we can’t find a single reference to a location. Simply put, we have no idea what Adams was building or where. We don’t know what he was up to, or why. Father Adams has disappeared and we have nothing but the aftermath to deal with. He bought a Rolls Royce, but that’s the only solid lead to where the money’s gone.”

“I think I know,” Sarah said, her voice a bit raspy. She took a sip of water from the glass on the table beside her. “I think I know where he is.”

“Where?” Parkman asked.

All three men stared at her.

“He didn’t succeed in his plan to kill us in his church at his brother’s eulogy. He really wanted me, but he would take the rest of you if he could.”

“Gee, thanks,” Aaron said.

“Yeah, great.” Parkman popped a toothpick in his mouth. “I like being an afterthought when it comes to my own murder.”

“You guys done?” Sarah asked, not able to hide her smile.

They nodded.

“He’s planning another hit.”

“He hasn’t had enough?” Hirst asked.

“He believes we’ve been lucky. He believes his mission is
ordained
.”

“By God? How could he think that after all the killing he’s done?”

“Not by God.”

“Then by whom?”

When it donned on Hirst, his eyes widened and he loosened his tie. “Son of a bitch. The guy’s off his rocker.”

“Which is all the more reason we have to deal with him.”

In the moment of silence that followed, Sarah took in the clean, wonderful air. After crawling into that crypt, the hospital air tasted so rich.

“Can’t you just get your sister to let you in on where Father Adams is right now?” Hirst asked.

“I already know where he is.”

“Why haven’t you told us?” Hirst snapped.

“Because where he is isn’t as important as where he’ll be.”

“What does that mean? Then where will he be?”

“I know where he’ll be in thirty minutes.”

“What?” Hirst nearly shouted. He snapped a look at Parkman who shrugged.

“Don’t look at me,” Parkman said. “It’s always better when Sarah’s in charge. Just listen to what she has to say. Then do what she tells you to do. It minimizes casualties.”

“Okay, then where will he be and what do you want me to do?”

“I want your gun for protection.”

“No way. It’s a police registered weapon. I cannot give you this gun. I’ll get you another one. When do you need it by?”

“There’s no time for another gun. I need yours.”

“Why mine?” Hirst asked. “I’m at a loss here. What’s going on?”

“I need yours so after he’s dead, you can take the credit for the kill. You’ll be the hero L.A. needs.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Trust.”

He sat back in his chair and rubbed his chin. Clearly in a spot he never wanted to be in, Hirst had a decision to make and Sarah wasn’t going to let him think about it too long.

“Don’t overthink this. You’ll head fuck it if you do. Just go with it. Just do what I say and I will deliver Father Adams’ body to you. It’s the only way. You have to trust me.”

Hirst stared at her without responding.

“If I’m wrong, and it all turns out bad, just say that I overpowered you and stole your weapon.”

“Yeah, that’ll work just fine. Overpowered by a girl in your condition.”

“Watch it,” Aaron said. “She’s still got a lot of fight left in her.”

“It’s okay.” Sarah touched Aaron’s arm. “Tell them I had Aaron take the weapon. That would work. Whoever knows us would understand.”

Hirst unclipped his holster and pulled his weapon out, holding it with two fingers. “For the record, I don’t agree with this, but I have no choice to trust you. Where do you want it?”

“Taped to the bottom of my IV stand.”

“What? How will you reach it?”

“We’ve got less than half an hour before I see Father Adams. Unnecessary questions will slow us down.”

“He’s coming here?” Parkman asked, standing from his chair.

Hirst stood too.

“Yes, he’s coming here. Aaron, take the gun from Hirst and get tape. Then strap it to the bottom of the IV stand. We’re running out of time.”

“But if he comes here,” Hirst said. “We’ll nab him. Just tell me when and where.”

“You can’t just nab him, because this time the bombs aren’t in the building. He’s wearing them.”

“Oh shit.”

“Exactly.”

Chapter 42

“Guys,” Sarah said. “We’ve got less than ten minutes. Everyone ready? Remember what I told you. Let him take me. Stay hidden. Don’t fuck this up or I’ll be dead and you don’t want a pissed off Sarah coming back from the other side. I won’t be nice and playful like my sister.”

All three men nodded in unison.

“Okay, this is going to hurt, but I need Aaron and Parkman to help me into that wheelchair. Detective Hirst, for this to work, you need to leave. Did you bring your cruiser or personal vehicle?”

“Cruiser. It’s in visitor’s parking.”

“Good. Go to it. Call for backup. Tell them whatever you have to, but get a couple units here. Then come back into the hospital and bring a couple of doctors to the side door on the east side of the building.” Sarah closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. “It’s hard to remember everything. I pretty sure it’s the east wing.” She opened her eyes. “Yeah, east wing.”

The mood in the room had turned to one of uncertainty. The men shuffled their feet. Hirst looked from Parkman to Sarah. She knew he trusted Parkman and wanted to do right by him, but Hirst struggled with taking orders from her. His job and career was on the line, not just his life.

“What’s going on here?” Sarah asked. “Is there a problem?”

Aaron and Parkman looked at Hirst knowing the question wasn’t directed at them.

Hirst headed for the door. “There’s no problem, Sarah. I’ll do what you ask. I just hope you’re right.”

“I am. But there’s one more thing I need you to do. Actually, it’s something I need you to remember.”

Hirst opened the door, looked into the corridor and turned back. “What’s that?”

“Between now and when we meet again, I want you to think about Janice.”

“Janice? My wife? Why’s that? How does she come into this?”

“Just do it. When the moment is right, think about Janice. You’ll understand when it comes to you.”

Hirst nodded and backed out of the room.

“Okay guys, wheel me out to the elevators. Let’s go get us a priest.”

Aaron stepped in front of Sarah and knelt down. “Can you tell us anything more to prepare us for what we’re walking into?”

“No. Hell, I’m not prepared for this. Just roll this damn thing and think on your feet. Do that and you’ll live.”

He stood up. “Think on your feet. Hmmph. I guess I can do that. How about you, Parkman? Can you think on your feet?”