The Pact (A Sarah Roberts Thriller Book 17) (19 page)

Parkman didn’t like the man in the thick coat. Something about the expression on his face. He seemed angry, or simply distraught. But at what? The Burning of the Witch had been a success. And that coat looked too thick for the temperature.

Parkman drank the rest of his third beer and headed for a garbage bin ten feet away thinking about the man in the thick coat. Why such a thick coat for a warm evening? Wouldn’t the Danes be used to the cool June evening? It wasn’t that cold. He let the beer glass drop into the receptacle then fished out a toothpick. The second he popped it in his mouth, he dropped it. A small yip sounded from his left, startling him. It was so soft, he wasn’t sure he heard it right.

Then a woman screamed from around the corner.

The shrill volume raised goose bumps on his arms and charged him into a full run for the stairs.

At the bottom of the stairs, as the girl continued to scream from somewhere behind the building, Parkman ran around where the two girls had gone not one minute before him.

It was the way the man in the thick coat had gone.

Chapter 24

Anton Olafson had caught the train on time in Aarhus and made it home to collect his pepper spray. Then, wearing a jacket too heavy for the warm evening, he headed out toward the Burning of the Witch by Skanderborg Lake. He got there just as the crowd of people headed home.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. “Too late.”

It seemed like fate had chosen to work against him. He walked Skanderborg the first day looking for a target. Then the busy center of Aarhus. And now, under the cover of night, where hundreds of people would be milling around watching the flames of the witch rise, drinking and relaxing, targets would be aplenty. But hardly anyone remained. It wasn’t even that late. About a dozen people stayed close to the dying flames. Scattered on the lawn beside the library, there couldn’t be more than twenty people left, mostly adults.

A group of teens stood by the library steps laughing and talking. He honed in on them, the pepper spray in his right hand, concealed inside the jacket pocket.

Two girls broke away from the group and headed for the shoreline. They were walking toward the path that led up by his house and the rowing club.

Anton couldn’t believe his luck.

Even as his feet starting moving in their direction, he wondered if he could do it. Could he actually take a girl’s life?

The two girls disappeared around the corner of the building. By his estimate, they would be out of sight for approximately one minute. Out in the open like this, he couldn’t run. That would draw attention to himself. Everyone knew him in this small city.

Another couple turned the corner where Anton saw the girls go, and walked out of sight. Whether he could do it or not would depend on that couple. Would they interfere? Would they be a problem? He wasn’t worried that the girls were walking together. He only needed to kill one of them on camera. Both of them could be pepper sprayed until they were blinded. He’d kill one and take off. The deed would be done. Clara would be set free.

If that couple was too close, he would have to wait.

As he passed the library and turned the corner, he hurried down the path by the shoreline. Immediately he realized that fate was in fact on his side. The couple had come back there to kiss and feel each other up. The man held the woman by the library’s back wall, his mouth digging into hers, his hands roaming under her shirt.

Up ahead on the path, the two blonde girls walked slowly, holding hands. Anton sped up and closed the distance quickly. Fifteen meters behind them, the girl on the left detected his presence. She glanced back at him and smiled.

They were two houses away from reaching the empty parking lot of the Kvickly grocery store.

Anton withdrew the pepper spray and started to walk around the girls. They slowed to allow him passage as the path was slightly overgrown on either side.

“Tusinde tak,” he said.
A thousand thanks.

As fast as a viper, Anton latched onto the nearest girl’s wrist and yanked her toward him while bringing the pepper spray around. He unleashed a torrent of spray as the girl’s friend let out a small scream of shock. The first girl struggled and fell backwards into the grass.

Anton turned his attention to the other girl. She stepped back. His left hand latched onto her belt and yanked her toward him as she screamed so loud his ears rang.

This was bad. Very bad. He couldn’t allow them to attract so much attention. He pressed the red button on the tiny canister in his hand, firing a volley of the noxious substance into the second girl’s face, covering her eyes and nose.

The scream died as fast as it began. The blonde dropped backwards into the tall grass, writhing around, gasping for a breath.

Someone was running nearby. The first girl had crawled away and was about to fall into the lake. She must have deduced that the water would help clear the mess on her face.

More people clomped the dirt path toward them in the dark.

The second girl was moaning and crawling away blind, chunks of spittle dropping from her mouth.

He had failed. All he did was spray two innocent girls. He couldn’t murder one of them in the time he had left. With the lack of experience of regularly murdering people, he didn’t have his phone out to record the event. He hadn’t jumped on the girl to restrain her and choke the life out of her. It would take mere minutes to end her life, but curious strangers were closer now. There was simply no time left.

Anton turned from the carnage he had caused and ran for the Kvickly parking lot. He had screwed up. They were going to catch him. If they did, it was all over and Clara was as good as dead.

He didn’t stop running until he was cowering in his backyard where he hid in thick bushes and waited for that knock on the front door. The one when the police arrived after talking to the two young girls he had hurt.

At one point he thought he heard someone walking by the bushes he hid in, but couldn’t be sure. If someone did, they were extra quiet.

Maybe the girls hadn’t seen him clearly enough. Maybe they couldn’t identify him. It was dark back on the path by the water. His large jacket had covered his identity, but it would give him away if they saw it. Still hiding in the bushes at the back of his house hours later, Anton discarded the jacket, then placed the pepper spray canister in his back pocket. He placed the jacket in the garbage bin beside his house.

At the second he set the bin’s lid back in place, he heard the soft rapping of someone at his front door.

They were here. The authorities had found him.

Clara’s dead.

He leaned against the house so he didn’t fall over.

The knocking came again. He checked the time on his phone. It was just past midnight. Visitors at this hour were unlikely. It had to be the police.

Hiding from them would be impossible. He wasn’t that kind of person. He had no idea what it took to stay hidden under their radar, a fugitive of the law. He would never make it on the run.

Decision made, he pushed off the side of the house and walked unsteadily toward the front, mentally preparing for the worst.

The knocking had only come twice. As he rounded the corner, he did not see a police car. In fact there was no car at all.

Standing there, like an angel sent directly to his house, was a girl looking down at a piece of paper. A blonde girl that didn’t just look like Clara, she could be Clara’s twin. She was even wearing Clara’s clothes.

He knew it because he had bought that white top with the flower on the left shoulder just two weeks ago. Those pants had to be Clara’s as well.

Fate looked down on him with fondness.

He eased the pepper spray canister out of his back pocket and stepped away from the side of the building.

It was time to finally kill a random, stupid girl.

Then he would get his daughter back.

Fate smiled.

Save Clara.

Anton clenched his teeth and ran at the girl who stood out front his house wearing his daughter’s clothes. A rush of anger fueled his charging feet.

He hit her as she was just looking up from the piece of paper in her hands, knocking her off her feet.

She smacked into the cement so hard a gush of air escaped her lips. She moaned a word that sounded like his name, but he wasn’t there to chat with her.

Anton emptied the canister of pepper spray into her face.

Chapter 25

Aaron led the way off the elevator into the lobby of the hotel. Alex stayed close behind him. Then Clara, and finally Daniel and Benjamin took up the rear. Aaron led at an average pace, watching the windows and the front doors straight ahead.

At the front desk, Aaron dropped the room keys on the counter and stopped. The clerk stepped out from the back, his salt and pepper hair ruffled, bloodshot eyes. Aaron guessed he had been napping in the back.

Aaron told him the room numbers they were vacating, then turned back the way they had come and started for the side exit.

“Sir?” the man behind the desk said.

Aaron stopped and tilted his head sideways, eyebrows raised in a questioning manner. The rest of them stayed back by the hallway wall, keeping Clara concealed.

“The side doors are locked at this hour. You have to use the front door.” He gestured toward the front, a pen in his hand.

Aaron glanced back to check with Alex who nodded. They were good to go. The men were aware of the danger and were prepared to walk out through the front door.

At the window, Aaron stopped and studied the parking lot for movement. Alex joined him at the window.

“Nothing,” Aaron whispered. “You?”

Alex shook his head. Aaron saw it in the reflection from the glass.

He stepped around Alex which activated the double sliding doors, then moved outside. Without realizing he had been holding his breath, he let it out, tried to remain calm, then moved toward Carlingview Drive to the left. The four of them behind him stayed close.

On Dixon Road, a few cars raced by on the wet pavement. The rain had stopped, but it left a chill in the air.

Aaron stopped to let them all gather around.

“Okay, I propose we hit these lights at Dixon, cross and go into any of those hotels on the left. We’ll grab two rooms on the same floor. Deal?”

Heads nodded in response.

“Do you think that guy’s watching us?” Clara asked. Her voice cracked from a shiver. He hadn’t noticed how much the cool temperature was bothering her.

“I think Sarah broke his nose. He’s probably in a hospital. If he comes back here, it’ll be tomorrow. Maybe whoever was behind this shit is sending someone else. We’re just taking precautions.”

“When we check in at another hotel, won’t the people looking for us be able to find us that way?” she asked.

“That’s why we’re going to have two rooms. One will be empty. If they go to that room first, we’ll know.”

“What if they come to the room we’re in first?”

“We’ll be waiting.”

Clara shrugged. “Doesn’t sound like a good plan.”

Aaron moved closer to Clara. Debating this out in the open was a waste of time. “Look, whoever’s behind this wants me dead. These guys, too.” He gestured at his friends. “But they kidnapped you. If they wanted you dead, you wouldn’t be here right now. Going to another hotel gives us a layer of secrecy. If they find us, then fine. We’ll deal with it and figure out what’s going on. But remember, they don’t want you dead, so they won’t shoot first. There’s nothing short of an elite SWAT team that could get the jump on us four.”

Clara nodded. “Sarah said you’d take care of me until she got back. I’ll go with that and not question how you’re doing it.”

That surprised him. He rarely heard people talk in such a blunt manner, although he preferred it. That’s why he loved Sarah. She spoke her mind. He had a higher level of respect for people like that.

Aaron adjusted his shirt, tucked it in at the back, turned around slowly, and started along the sidewalk. The footfalls behind him were loud enough to know they were all staying close.

A small two-door car, pulled up to the red light at Dixon and Carlingview. Seconds later, the light changed. As the vehicle accelerated, it backfired making Aaron duck at the sound.

“Whoa, that was loud for such a small car.”

Someone moaned behind him. He spun around, crouching into a defensive posture. Benjamin held his right leg and bounced on the other one.

“What happened?” Aaron asked.

Alex and Daniel had crouched low, holding Clara down.

The car backfired again. This time Benjamin dropped to the pavement.

It wasn’t a car backfiring.