The Redeemed (8 page)

He leaned in closer, ready for her now.

“I should reach ten before I do the rest in one explosion. Wouldn’t that be wonderful? One big bang, just like how the Earth started. One big bang and twenty or thirty people will be executed at once. Maybe more, if I can pack them in.”

He touched her cool skin with his member.

“Just like right now. One big bang and you’re done.” He laughed. “I’ll be done, too.”

As he entered her corpse, the snake rattled its cage in the corner.

Chapter 11

The deafening report of Miles’ gun beside Sarah’s face didn’t slow her down. Her right hand shoved the slide back and clicked the slide stop into position all in one fluid motion. The gun was immobilized.

Sarah snapped down at the base of Miles’ forearm and twisted his wrist back as far as it would go.

He yelped at the sudden sharp pain and his grip opened.

In her peripheral vision, she picked up movement behind Miles. His friends were moving in.

The M1911 dropped out of his hand and into hers. With her butt still firmly planted on the hood of the car, she kicked him away with her good foot, dropped the slide stop back into place, slipped her finger inside the trigger guard, aimed and fired.

The first bullet went wide. She fired again, hitting face-tattoo man in the calf. Miles made a break for the bushes.

“Freeze,” Sarah shouted.

She fired twice into the pavement by his feet which stopped him, his hands in the air.

A car squealed to a stop nearby. Doors opened.

“Drop the weapon!” someone shouted behind her.

“Identify yourselves,” Sarah yelled back without taking her eyes off Miles.

Someone whispered, “You gotta be kidding me.”

“We’re the Los Angeles Police. Drop the fucking weapon. Now!”

The third gangbanger had disappeared in the bushes. Miles faced away with his hands up. His tattooed friend writhed on the ground holding his leg, a tight expression of pain on his face.

Sarah released the handle of the gun and let it dangle with her finger inside the trigger guard. Then she lowered it slowly and let it go when it was a foot from the pavement.

The cops moved in fast. One of the officers kicked the gun under Parkman’s rental. He grabbed Sarah from behind and yanked her arms back.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” the cop yelled in her ear. “You just shot that guy in the leg.”

“Officer,” Parkman said. “Take it easy. That’s not how it happened.”

The cop turned around. “Stay back there. By the car door. You’ll get your turn. Keep your hands in the air.”

More cruisers pulled in. Two other cops cuffed Miles’ wrists. He cried out when they grabbed the wrist Sarah had wrenched. Two paramedics ran for the guy on the ground.

The cop picked up Sarah’s crutch and helped her to her feet. He attempted to support her, but with her hands cuffed behind her back and no weight on the crutch, she leaned into him too much.

“Shit,” Sarah said. “This isn’t going to work—”

As she started to fall, the cop stepped away. All she could think to do was protect her broken ankle. She lifted it high in the second it took to smash her right shoulder into the cement. The grunt that escaped her lips couldn’t be helped. The wind was knocked from her lungs. As she coughed and struggled to breathe again, Vicky stepped into view, a smile from ear to ear on her face.

“How does it feel?” she asked.

Sarah’s response was another cough.

“I’m Officer Vicky Chard.” She leaned down close to Sarah. “How did you know my name? I’ve been working undercover for a long time nailing deadbeat johns. But this operation was for Miles Johnson. Then you walk up, name me, and shoot at my suspect with his own gun. Who the hell are you?”

Sarah caught her breath, but her shoulder ached from the hit. She rested her cast on the cement and laid her head back. She had no idea how she knew Jessica’s or Vicky’s names or how to disarm Miles’ gun. It was all Vivian’s doing. But if so, why still give messages through automatic writing? Why not just talk directly inside her head?

“Why did you grab Miles’ gun?” Vicky asked. “You paramilitary trained or something?”

“She just knows stuff,” Parkman said. “That’s Sarah Roberts.”

Vicky straightened up and turned to face Parkman.

“That would make you her colleague, Parkman?”

“You know us?”

“We all heard she was in town. Most of us steered clear for fear of hurting her by accident.” Vicky looked back at Sarah. “Your reputation with the authorities precedes you.”

The cop who had let her fall came back over. “Oh, are you Sarah Roberts?” he asked, mock surprise on his face. He placed a hand on each cheek, his mouth a gaping hole. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.” He got down and removed the cuffs.

Detective Hirst had kept them isolated from the local cops in case some of them got the wrong idea about her. But now Hirst was nowhere around.

“Can I help her up?” Parkman asked.

Vicky nodded and stepped back to give him room. He slipped both hands under her arms and lifted her back onto the hood of the car.

“You okay?” he asked.

Miles was escorted to a waiting cruiser. He had fired his weapon inches from her face. There had to be attempted murder charges waiting for him. The other guy was on a stretcher being wheeled to a waiting ambulance.

“That was fast,” Sarah said, having caught her breath.

“What was?” Vicky asked.

“Your response time.” Sarah turned to her. “Everyone was waiting around the corner.” Knowing she was right, Sarah continued. “You were planning a bust tonight, but not for the johns. That’s the reason for so many cops and an ambulance.”

“Why are you here?” Vicky asked. “Was it just to find Mercedes?”

“Would you believe me if I told you?”

“Try me.”

“Then yes, we just wanted to talk to Mercedes.”

“Weren’t you working with homicide on the priest killings?” Vicky asked.

“You know a lot.”

Vicky turned to the officer who let Sarah fall. “Hey, Russ, I got this. Go ahead and I’ll meet you downtown.”

Russ grunted and turned away, the smile never leaving his face.

“Come have a coffee with me,” Vicky said. “We’ll talk about Mercedes.”

Parkman moved in to help Sarah, but she waved him off, pulled the crutch under her shoulder and started for the breakfast restaurant.

With Vicky a few steps ahead of them, Parkman asked, “What’s happening, Sarah? How are you getting all their names? How did you know to do that to the gun?”

“I’m not really sure. But whatever it is, I’m loving it.”

She caught him staring at her.

“Are you saying you did not have foreknowledge of that gun?”

“Yes, that’s what I’m saying. But if Vivian wants to keep planting stuff in my head when I need it, I don’t mind. Miles entered that parking lot with intent tonight. Without Vivian, I might have gotten hurt.”

Vicky turned around. “Did I hear you say you
might
have gotten hurt with Miles?”

Sarah nodded.

“The last girl he hurt is still in the hospital. We suspect he’s killed a few. When I saw him pull the gun on you, I didn’t approach until backup arrived.” She stared hard at Sarah. “He intended to kill you, or at the very least, maim you.”

“Great. Thanks. I feel so much better knowing how close he came.”

Vicky reached the restaurant’s door and opened it for Sarah. Once they were seated and had ordered coffees, Sarah asked about Mercedes.

“Before I answer,” Vicky said, “what’s your interest?”

A police cruiser pulled out, the lights reflecting off the restaurant’s window. Sarah wondered why no one offered Vicky a jacket to cover up. Maybe she’d been doing this so long she was comfortable being half exposed.

“We’re not sure yet, but we think Mercedes is involved or has knowledge about the priest killings.”

“What kind of knowledge?” Vicky asked.

“No idea.” Sarah smiled. “Gotta ask her.”

“Are you being smart with me?”

“I’m looking for Mercedes. You ask me for what kind of knowledge. Until I ask Mercedes, I have no idea what she knows or doesn’t know. So no, I’m not being smart with you.”

“Mercedes works for Miles. She’s in this parking lot every night after midnight and works till dawn. The only nights she’s not here is when Miles lets her stay a whole night with one guy.”

“And she’s not here tonight,” Parkman said.

Vicky shook her head and looked down at a busted nail on her finger. She pulled on it for a second, then met Sarah’s eyes.

“Mercedes might be in trouble.”

“How so?”

“There’s a guy who’s been coming around lately. Big guy. Loads of cash. Takes her for the night. She comes back with handcuff marks on her wrists. I’m worried for her, but Miles doesn’t care. As long as he gets his cut.”

“When was the last time you saw her?” Parkman asked.

“Two nights ago. She wasn’t here last night, either.”

The waitress set three cups of coffee in front of them. “Will there be anything else?”

Vicky shook her head. “No thanks.”

The waitress walked away as Sarah pulled the cup to her lips and sniffed the aroma before sipping.

“No cream or sugar?” Vicky asked.

“None.”

“Me too.” After a sip from her cup, Vicky said, “I think Mercedes is afraid of her customer. At least that’s what some of the girls were saying.”

“How so? Did you hear why?”

“No.”

“Have you seen this guy?” Parkman asked. “Can you give us a description?”

“I can do you one better. I followed her two nights ago to see where the client was taking her.”

Sarah sat up in her seat. “Really? Take us there.”

“I think he detected the tail. I lost them a few blocks from where he lives.”

“How do you know you were close to where he lives? You could’ve lost them before they jumped in a car and drove to the other side of the city.”

“He was pulling out his house keys when he noticed me. After putting the keys away, they kept walking. After two blocks, and a couple fast turns, they disappeared.”

“Then take us to where you lost them. Walk us the exact route.”

“You can walk that far on a crutch?”

“Don’t worry about me. Mercedes’ life may be in danger. And if she’s involved with the priest killer in any way, if we don’t find her, more priests are going to die.”

“Do you know her real name?” Parkman asked.

Vicky lifted her coffee with both hands and said, “Evelyn Wynn. Her name is Evelyn, but the client always calls her Eve.”

Chapter 12

Outside the restaurant, Vicky followed them to their rental. The authorities had cleared out of the parking lot already.

“Your team works fast,” Sarah said.

“We already had the list of charges prepared as we were set to arrest Miles and his crew tonight. I was talking to Jessica when you walked by us. I was about to pop the question to her.”

“Pop the question?” Parkman asked.

“If she would testify against Miles. If not, I would have arrested her out front, away from his sight. My backup was minutes away, as you now know.”

“Probably a good night for us to come,” Sarah said.

“Sarah?” Vicky stepped closer. “I have to ask. What possessed you to grab Miles’ gun? That was either the bravest thing I have ever seen, or the stupidest.”

“Consider it the stupidest then,” Sarah said as she made her way around to the passenger side of the rental. “We’ll follow you.”

She opened the door and dropped into the seat, the stress of the evening wearing her down. Parkman said a few more words to Vicky and got in the car. He put the keys in the ignition and stopped.

“Sarah, why
did
you grab the gun?”

“He was going to shoot. Didn’t want it touching me anymore. Also, I thought I detected a little orange around the barrel. There was a possibility it was fake.”

“All guns are real and loaded when they’re aimed at you. That’s the only rule to live by, literally, the only way to stay alive.”

“I know,” Sarah said. “Look, Vicky’s pulling out. Let’s go.”

Parkman started the car and pulled out to follow Vicky.

“You handled it expertly,” Parkman said. “Any chance there’s more you’re not telling me? Like how you knew Miles’ name.”