The Pact (A Sarah Roberts Thriller Book 17) (39 page)

BOOK: The Pact (A Sarah Roberts Thriller Book 17)
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“Sarah?” Bryant turned back when he was a few feet away. “I got that no-fly list shit taken care of. Your name has been removed.”

 

She smiled up at him. “Thanks.”

 

“Found everything we needed on Ben’s computer. I personally called the authorities in Denmark to let them know there was a mistake. Told the Americans, too, as you hold an American passport. Thought they’d want to make sure it was out of their system.”

 

“Good.”

 

“You know, it’s funny.” He chortled.

 

“What is?”

 

She offered him a deadpan face. A week ago she was dead. Days before that, she thought Aaron was dead. It had been a rough week dealing with Vivian. Overall, she just wanted a night alone with Aaron. No more statements. No more police interviews. And no more questions how she knew what she knew about Ben Wilson. Telling them about Vivian didn’t fly with most of the cops she dealt with. To his credit Bryant listened because he got a call from a retired Toronto Detective named Waller, someone Sarah worked with years ago in Toronto when a group called the Rapturites were after her.

 

Bryant moved a few steps closer to the table. “The Danes were flummoxed as to how you got away from them. They scoured the airport for days after. Watched camera footage. Did everything short of bringing the military in. Asked me how you did it.” He shrugged. “I didn’t know so I couldn’t tell them.” He stepped closer to the small table. “How did you do it?”

 

“Does it matter now?” she asked.

 

Bryant didn’t like that answer. “There is one more thing I have to ask, though.”

 

“Go ahead.”

 

“We all know about your abilities. How you know stuff.” He brought his hands to his temples and shook them. “Something in there tells you things about people, places and the future.”

 

“You’re moving toward a question. I can feel it.”

 

He placed his hands back at his sides. “You told us who Ben was. Where he lived. His plans for my sister. We wired her and sent her in. Everything was exactly like you said. Since you’ve never met the man before, I’d call that psychic.”

 

Sarah stared at him, her face expressionless.

 

“Since you’re psychic, I have to ask. Did you know beforehand that Ben Wilson and Ansgar Holm would die in that vegan café?”

 

Sarah didn’t flinch. She waited two breaths, then lied. “No.”

 

Bryant waited three breaths, his eyes not leaving hers. This was a contest of wills she would not lose.

 

He blinked.

 

“It’s just,” Bryant said, “knowing beforehand would make you somewhat complicit in their deaths. We could’ve stopped Ben before he entered that café. We could’ve been told his weapon was a toy. If you knew any of that, then by withholding the information, you caused him to die.”

 

He would’ve been dead inside six months anyway.

 

“Understood,” was all she said, thinking of Darwin’s man Bruno in Billund.

 

“Hey,” Aaron interrupted. “Is that really fair? Sarah doesn’t know everything. Only what her sister tells her.”

 

“That’s fine. That’s what I told my superiors.”

 

This was a lesson in what to tell the authorities and what to hold back. Or what to outright lie about. Sometimes it was for the greater good.

 

Ben’s pain was over. He was in a better place now. Back with his mother. Ansgar was gone and wouldn’t be available for hire anymore. There were a lot of people in the world who were going to be left alone now that Ansgar and Ben were gone.

 

Bryant glanced at Aaron and then walked away.

 

“Bryant,” Sarah called after him.

 

He stopped at the door and looked back.

 

“I used Clara’s passport to get out of Denmark. Wore her clothes. Just walked by airport security and got on the plane.”

 

Sarah lifted her cup and sipped from her coffee to signal that she was done talking.

 

Bryant hesitated at the door, nodded, then stepped outside. He passed the window in front of her, placing sunglasses on his face, then disappeared where the window stopped.

 

She would see him again very shortly. Once she was done in Kelowna, she had to come back to Toronto. Something was stirring on the horizon, but she couldn’t see the details yet. She only hoped he wasn’t such a prick the next time.

 

“Were you being hard on him on purpose?” Aaron asked.

 

Sarah turned to face Aaron. “Do I need to go easy on him? He’s a decent cop. Case solved. His sister’s life was spared. He’ll go his way, we’ll go ours.”

 

“Fair enough. But why so serious? You okay?”

 

She reached across the table and touched his hand. “I just want this time with you. We’re both alive. We’re still young. Let’s go to our hotel room and enjoy our time together before I have to leave.”

 

“You’re leaving?”

 

“Tomorrow.”

 

He frowned. “Why so soon?”

 

“Problems in Kelowna.”

 

“Kelowna? Again?”

 

She nodded and drank the rest of her coffee.

 

“Aaron, find a spot for a dojo. Start renovations. Stay busy. Get your men teaching classes again. Do it soon. When I’m done in Kelowna, I’ll come right back here. I have business here in Toronto.”

 

“What business?”

 

“No idea yet. Shit, Vivian isn’t even telling me why I’m going to Kelowna yet.”

 

“What?” He leaned back. “Then what? I mean why?”

 

“It’s this new communication thing. Hard to get used to at first.”

 

“Then how do you know you’re even going?”

 

“What time is it?”

 

Aaron pulled out his phone and checked. “Just before five.”

 

“I need the exact minute.”

 

“It’s 4:57 p.m.”

 

“In two minutes we’ll both know why Kelowna.”

 

Aaron slipped his phone away. “Okay. Then where do we have dinner tonight?”

 

“I need meat. How about a steak at The Keg?”

 

“You’re on. There’s a great Keg on Jarvis. We’ll drop down Mount Pleasant. It’ll be faster than taking Yonge Street south at this hour.”

 

“When we leave, you lead the way.”

 

Aaron finished his coffee, got up from the table and tossed their cups in the trash. When he came back, he sat beside her and checked the time.

 

“4:59 p.m.”

 

The door opened and Parkman stepped inside the Starbucks. He scanned the café until he spotted them, then headed their way.

 

“Hey guys.” He pulled out a chair and plopped down, a toothpick dangling from his mouth.

 

“Hey,” Aaron said.

 

“Hey,” Sarah added.

 

They waited. They stared at him.

 

“What?” Parkman said.

 

“You just show up and sit down?” Sarah asked. “Nothing to tell me?”

 

“I called Bryant. He said he was meeting you guys here for four o’clock.”

 

“That meeting just ended. Go on,” Sarah prodded.

 

“I got a call from an RCMP officer in Kelowna.”

 

“Yes.”

 

Aaron touched her hand. She flipped it over and they clasped hands.

 

“They need your help.”

 

“With what?”

 

“Wouldn’t tell me over the phone. But did say that when you were there last, you antagonized one of their cops—”

 

“As I should have.”

 

Parkman nodded. “I know. I was there. But he was killed horribly.”

 

“Wasn’t my fault.”

 

“No, Sarah. It wasn’t.” Parkman looked from her to Aaron, then back to her. “You okay?”

 

“Yeah, just need a break. Been through a lot lately.”

 

“Of course. If anyone understands that, it’s me.”

 

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

 

He waved her off. “No need to apologize. Look, the cop just said it would be a good chance for you to come back to Kelowna and help them. Do something good for them as they are still trying to make a better name for themselves in that city. Their image was damaged.” He held up a hand. “Not your fault. Just, this would go a long way to fixing things.”

 

“You up to coming?” she asked.

 

“Already bought us two tickets out of Toronto’s airport tomorrow afternoon.”

 

“Will I ever get used to that?” Aaron asked.

 

Sarah turned to him. “Used to what?”

 

“You just knowing shit. I mean, that’s basically what you just told me. To a tee.”

 

She raised his hand and kissed it. “I only know what Vivian shares with me.”

 

“It’s changed though, hasn’t it?”

 

“Oh yeah,” Parkman blurted out.

 

They looked at him. He smiled, then rolled his toothpick.

 

Sarah twisted farther in her seat to face Aaron. “Over dinner, I’ll tell you everything that happened when I died. And I’ll try to explain the pact Vivian and I made.”

 

“It’s a doozy,” Parkman added.

 

When Sarah looked at him, he offered her a blank look, then flipped the toothpick to the other side of his mouth.

 

“What?” Parkman exclaimed. “Just saying.”

 

“You know.” Sarah lowered her head and shook it back and forth. “I really love you guys. I’m happy I’m alive and not dead.”

 

“That’s good,” Aaron said.

 

“So I can kick your asses.”

 

Sarah smacked him. Aaron grabbed her wrists, dragged her closer and planted a kiss on her forehead.

 

“Take it easy, little Sarah,” Aaron said. “Or I’ll have to take you to your room and spank you.”

 

She wiggled out of his grasp and put a finger in her face, waving it back and forth.

 

“Don’t threaten me with pleasure.”

 

They laughed until Parkman’s cell phone rang. He answered it his usual way.

 

“Parkman.” A pause. “What? Again?” Another pause. His jaw tightened. “I’ll tell her.” He hung up.

 

“That was the cop I’ve been telling you about. There’s been another bombing. Two people dead. Downtown Kelowna on Harvey Street. Their hands are tied. They have no idea what the hell is going on. My contact has resorted to begging you now.”

 

“We’ll go. We’ll be there tomorrow.”

 

“I told him earlier.”

 

Aaron’s hand gripped Sarah’s tighter.

 

“I don’t want to lose you,” he whispered.

 

“You won’t, baby. You won’t.”

 

Afterword

Dear Reader,

 

I have nothing against vegan cafés. That should go on record right away. It was simply a plot point. Nothing more. I don’t frequent them. I eat meat, but I’m a firm believer in live and let live.

 

As some of you may know, I lived in Skanderborg for three months back in 2011 and have often returned to visit this wonderful city. I attended the Burning of the Witch ceremony during the Midsummer event in June 2011. I’d never seen anything like it before and added it to this story for several reasons. I’ve walked Anton Olafson’s street, passed by the Skanderborg Rowing Club and had coffee at the library just like Parkman did. I’ve been to Silkeborg (not the hospital though) and taken the fifteen-minute train ride to Aarhus several times where I’ve walked the shopping streets. Just as Anton did that day he was hunting a random girl to kill, I’ve tasted whiskey for free in the store called Salling and had cappuccino by the canal in Aarhus. That’s one of the many wonderful advantages of having spent years touring Europe. As I write these scenes, they’re specific to actual places and events. Hey, they’re always saying, “Write what you know,” so I do. Watch for pictures of these locations on Facebook.

 

Denmark is a wonderful country. I’ll be heading there again this Christmas (2016), and will be spending considerable time there in the future.

 

Back in the 1990s, I spent a lot of time researching spirituality, the Other Side, and Near Death Experiences (NDE), which led to philosophy and the study of several religions. I spent time in a Pentecostal Church and listened as they spoke in tongues. I attended a Mormon church with a lovely Mormon family. I even spent a weekend at their home and benefitted from headaches as they didn’t serve coffee, which has caffeine, an addictive substance.

 

In my personal search for meaning in the 1990s, I stumbled upon spirituality and chose that as what I would assign my beliefs to. Nothing man-made, no organized religion, just a belief in a higher power and the ability to be nice to people, do good things, make someone smile, because in the end, they’re all struggling like the rest of us.

 

Spirituality led me to investigate NDEs. What is on the Other Side? Where do we go when we leave our muscle and bone encasement?

 

In 1998 I read an earth-shattering book called
Life After Life
by Raymond Moody. Originally written in 1975, this book was a study of the NDE phenomenon. Moody interviewed and studied one hundred people who had been declared clinically dead but were revived at a later time. These people were from all walks of life (no pun intended), from different parts of the country, and had no way to collaborate their stories. Yet they all spoke of a similar experience. One of a tunnel, a light and a life review. Some saw dead relatives who had passed before them.

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