The Antagonist (A Sarah Roberts Thriller, Book 10)

  The Antagonist

  by

  Jonas Saul

  Chapter 1

  Sarah Roberts didn’t want to antagonize the police without a reason, but her sister’s message was clear and Sarah wasn’t about to question Vivian.

  Traffic on the William Bennet Bridge stood still in the early afternoon heat of August. Personal water crafts, jet-skis, and houseboats filled Lake Okanagan below, backed up behind a couple of police boats circling the area where a woman had just jumped off the bridge.

  Lesley Wright, age thirty, despondent, depressed, and tired of her life, had stood on the edge of the bridge for an hour, then jumped.

  Sarah had sat on her motorcycle behind a line of cars blocked from going forward until the police had rescued the woman. Twenty cars back from where the woman had jumped, Sarah watched as the RCMP attempted to negotiate Lesley back from the edge. Half a minute ago, Lesley had jumped.

  Sarah turned on her bike, slipped the helmet over her head, and pulled away from her spot in traffic. She steered the bike between the parked cars on the two-lane eastbound side of the bridge, drivers honking at her, until she got to the road block. A police officer walked up, signaling her to halt.

  She stopped the bike and leaned it on the kickstand. The officer spoke before she had a chance to get her helmet off. She ignored him and started for the walkway that would take her down to the beach where the RCMP were bringing Lesley to shore. She only got two steps before the officer placed a hand on the inside of her elbow.

  She stopped and looked down at his hand. Whatever expression was on her face made the officer release her arm, but he stayed close, crowding her.

  “I was talking to you,” the officer said. “Where do you think you’re going? This area is blocked off. Can’t you see there’s a rescue underway?”

  The cop was slightly overweight, sported a thin mustache, and mustard stains on his uniform.

  Sarah pointed to the long line of traffic backed up along the bridge. The cars in the front of the line were close enough to listen in to their conversation. “That’s a long line of stopped traffic—”

  “I know what it is. Now get back on your bike and wait your turn like everyone else.” He gestured at the bike. “Let’s go.”

  In the water below, a small police boat floated near a swimming uniformed officer who held the jumper’s head above water. The drop couldn’t be more than a hundred feet. The odds of the woman dying from that height were low. This was a cry for help and it had to do with her brother. Based on Vivian’s notes, Sarah knew she would meet Greg Wright, Lesley’s brother, soon enough.

  “As I was saying.” Sarah turned her attention back to the officer, who was losing his patience. He had pulled his radio out and held it close to his mouth. “I was parked twenty cars back in this line of traffic. I saw the girl. Before she jumped, I realized who she was.”

  “Great, now go back there and wait.” He waved at the cars behind him. “Or I will place you in my cruiser until this is over. This area is blocked off for a reason.” He shouted over his shoulder without taking his eyes off her. “Hey, Paulson, might need you over here.”

  Sarah stepped closer, crowding him. “You’re not listening. I know the jumper. Her name is Lesley Wright. Her brother’s name is Greg Wright. I know the family and I know why she jumped.” Even though Sarah’s sister, Vivian, hadn’t supplied all the details, it was Sarah’s job to work it out so that she got close to the cop rescuing the girl. His name was Barry Ashford and she had a message for him. “When they pull her out and she’s inconsolable,” she pointed over the side of the bridge at the RCMP boat as they hoisted Lesley out of the lake, “it will be of immense help if someone familiar is there to be with her. As a family friend, I am going to walk down to the beach and hold Leslie as she works through this horrific ordeal. From up here, all I can see are male officers. Imagine how humiliated and embarrassed she is, especially considering what she just did. Are you clear with what I’m trying to do now?”

  The other cop, Paulson must’ve not heard his colleague as he hadn’t moved from his side of the traffic twenty feet away.

  “Wow, what a mouth on such a little thing.” He glanced over his shoulder at his partner. “Talking back to an officer of the law.”

  Sarah wanted to smack the stupid smirk off the cop’s face, but restrained herself.

  “What if I say no?” he asked. “Would you get back in line, call her tonight at the psyche ward?”

  He was going to let her go down to the beach, but he wanted to have the power. He needed to make sure she knew that. She could go easy, play nice, and allow him to think that it was his decision, but that wouldn’t be any fun.

  She pointed at the news van parked at the side of the road. “If you try to stop me from walking down to the beach to console my dear friend, I will scream and shout and make a huge scene. I will yell Lesley’s name loud enough for her to hear it. That Castanet news van will video you restraining me and I will do an interview with them later naming you as the one boy-in-blue who refused to allow that poor woman coming out of the water a dear friend in her time of need. So the question isn’t whether I go to be with my friend. Rather, the question is whether you want your name in the news in a not-so-flattering way.” She shrugged and spread her hands. “What’ll it be? Am I free to go and be with my scared friend in this otherwise public area, or are you going to restrain me?”

  The cop glanced at his partner for support. He was talking to the driver of a large blue pickup truck. Now that the girl had jumped, people wanted to get moving. This area would clear soon and the police cruisers would be moved out of the way. In minutes, this spot would be public property again, without the roadblock.

  The officer in front of her flexed his jaws, his lips thinned to a line and his face tightened.

  What’s wrong with this guy?

  “Get out of my sight,” the cop said. “Go down there if you want. See if I care. They probably won’t let you near that girl anyway, but that’s not my problem.”

  He muttered, “Bitch,” as he turned away.

  She breathed deep to calm herself. She couldn’t let the cops, the street gang in blue, get under her skin so easily. Having left her family behind in Santa Rosa, and Aaron back in Toronto, she was alone, sad, and hurt for almost killing Parkman in the vineyard behind her parents’ house recently. She had notes from Vivian, things to do and stay busy with, but she had to learn how to tune out the officers with large egos and dangerous attitudes.

  The boat carrying Lesley came ashore as Sarah scrambled down a small pile of rocks to the sandy beach. Another officer on the beach saw her and raised a hand.

  “Excuse me, Miss. This area is blocked off for the time being.”

  Men held the boat steady in the shallow water while others helped Lesley out. One of the men held a large blanket.

  “I’m Lesley’s friend. That cop up there,” she pointed to the road where she had just walked down from, “said I should come and talk to her, console her.”

  He waved. “Come along then.”

  Lesley was walking on her own, the blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Even though it was a hot August afternoon, she was soaked and shivering.

  They steered her toward an ambulance parked on the sand, rear doors open. Two paramedics walked toward Lesley and the officers who surrounded her.

  Sarah started across the sand to rendezvous with them at the ambulance. Inside the police cordon, no one tried to stop her.

  From a dozen feet away, Sarah got her first glimpse of Barry Ashford, the RCMP officer Vivian told her to antagonize. He was her real target. She didn’t kn
ow why Vivian wanted her to do it, but was sure she would learn soon enough.

  Three male officers surrounded Lesley as she sat on the back of the ambulance. The female paramedic began to check her over.

  “Excuse me,” Sarah said as she edged in closer. “I’m with Lesley.”

  The officers turned toward her. Barry met her eyes. Sometimes a man’s eyes told her a lot about the man. Some were calm, others scary. She’d seen smiling eyes, romantic eyes and dark eyes. But Barry’s eyes were dead. There was nothing there, like she was looking at a rock, or a chunk of black rubber.

  She had also learned that when a man stared at her without blinking for more than five seconds, he either wanted to kill her or have sex with her, and Barry’s body language didn’t give away anything amorous.

  “Who are you?” a cop to her right asked.

  “Lesley’s friend.” She unlocked her eyes from Barry’s. “She just went through something traumatic and now she’s surrounded by men. Clear out. Give her some space. I just spoke to her brother, Greg, and he wants me to be with her.” Sarah edged between the officers, getting closer. “Come on guys, give us some room. And you,” she turned to Barry, “grab a towel and dry off closer to that Castanet News van. They’re going to want your picture.”

  Without waiting for their reply, Sarah sat beside Lesley on the back of the ambulance. Recently she’d been inside a modified ambulance with a gunshot wound to the head. But that had healed well and her long hair now concealed the wound nicely.

  “Greg sent you?” Lesley asked in a weak voice.

  Lesley was high on something. It was written all over her face. High enough that her ordeal hadn’t sobered her up.

  “How are you feeling?” Sarah asked. “You okay now?”

  The paramedic was checking something in Lesley’s mouth. When they were done here, Lesley would probably be taken to the hospital where they’d probably perform a psychological evaluation.

  What Sarah had set out to do was done. She had needed to meet Lesley Wright and Barry Ashford, the man she would antagonize over the coming days.

  “Listen, Lesley, I’m going to leave now. I will talk to your brother and tell him you’re okay. Everything will work out. Just get dried up, deal with the authorities and go home.”

  When their eyes met, Sarah saw Lesley’s pain, her torment. Something bothered this girl deeply. Whatever it was, it was enough to kill herself.

  “It’ll be okay,” Sarah said in a soft voice. “We’ll work it out.”

  “You can’t work it out,” she whispered, then snuck a glance at Ashford, who had pulled her from the lake.

  “Why are you looking at him?” Sarah asked.

  “Because this is all his fault.”

  If Sarah hadn’t been watching Lesley as she talked, she might’ve missed the slight twitch in Lesley’s eyes, recognition that she’d said too much.

  “Don’t worry about that cop,” Sarah said, matching Lesley’s whisper.

  Lesley snapped her head sideways. “You know? Greg told you?”

  Sarah had no idea what Lesley was talking about but didn’t want to lose her trust.

  “Let’s just say I know more than most. When can we talk again? I have an idea that soon all your troubles will disappear. Forever.”

  Lesley lit up. She leaned closer and lowered her voice even more. “How?”

  Sarah shook her head. “When we meet. Not here.”

  “Okay, Twisted Tomato on Bernard Avenue, downtown. Meet me there tomorrow at six in the evening. We’ll have a coffee and maybe some food. Then you can tell me everything.”

  “Deal.” Sarah stuck out her hand and Lesley shook it. When she glanced at Barry, he was watching them. Whatever he was doing to this girl would stop or Sarah would make it stop. Even more so because he was a cop. It seemed everywhere she went, the more things she had to deal with, it almost always led back to the street gang in blue, and that was really starting to get on her nerves.

  “Tomorrow night, then.” Sarah rose from the back of the ambulance. She started for the pathway that led back to the road where her bike was parked. Just before she reached the rocks where she had to climb, Barry’s voice stopped her.

  “Who are you?” he asked in a deadpan voice.

  Sarah waited a moment with her back to him, then turned around. His hair was drying and tousled from a towel. His uniform had mostly dried and wasn’t pasted to his skin. Everyone would call him a hero for pulling Lesley out of the water, but he was involved in something criminal. Vivian felt the only way to figure that something out was to anger him.

  “Who wants to know?” she asked, her stare and emotionless voice as cold as his.

  “Why were you talking to that girl?”

  “And this is your business how?”

  He stepped closer. “She jumped from that bridge. She tried to kill herself.” His voice rose a notch. “When we pulled her out of the water she was weak and vulnerable. So I want to know who you are. What credentials do you have that allows you to comfort someone in her current mental state?”

  “And you’re qualified to assess her mental state?” Sarah stood her ground. “You are a police officer. You had a job to do. You did it. Whoopee. Congratulations. Woman saved.” She stepped so close she could smell his stale breath. “But that’s it. That’s as far as it goes. Tell me, where is it written that a cop can assess her mental state? Where’s your doctorate? Where is it legislated that you’re suddenly her guardian?” Sarah looked him up and down. “Your ego is too big. You think because you pulled her out of the water that that’s it, you get to pick who she talks to? Boy, what do they teach you at cop school?” She turned away and started up the hill, but he grabbed her arm.

  “We’re not finished here,” he said, his tone serious. Something she had said had gotten under his skin.

  “Release. My. Arm.” She snuck a glance at the news van. The cameraman was aiming a camera at them. “You are being broadcast live on Castanet. I will make a scene and your hero moment will diffuse in a second if you test me.”

  The hand came away.

  She stepped up the rocks and turned back to him, looking down. Two other cops were crossing the sand to see what was going on.

  “We’ll meet again, Officer Ashford.”

  At the mention of his name, his eyes widened. He tried to hide it, but the effort was wasted.

  “And when we do, you won’t be too happy.”

  “Are you threatening me?”

  “Let’s just say I know what you did and I know what you’ve been up to.” Vivian hadn’t revealed that part yet, but as she spoke the lie, it felt right. Whatever he was up to, letting him know she was onto it would add an element of paranoia.

  The other officers now stood beside him.

  “Everything okay here, Ashford?” the one on the left said.

  “Yes, I was just escorting this woman across the beach, back to her vehicle.”

  Sarah started up the grassy embankment. A minute later, before reaching her bike, she looked back at Ashford. He stood alone on the sand and watched her.

  But this time his face seemed darker, angrier. It matched the dead look in his eyes.

  His hand rested on the holster on his belt.

  It was a subtle threat, but it was a threat.

  Sarah knew that she had accomplished what she came here to do.

  In the coming days, it would be easy to rankle him. She looked forward to meeting him again.

  Next time she wouldn’t be so nice.

  Chapter 2

  Kelowna, British Columbia, was a well-developed, pretty city. It sat in the Okanagan Valley on Okanagan Lake, with the Canadian Rockies mountain range surrounding it. Sarah had read up on Kelowna and found out it was ranked the 8th happiest city in Canada. It was also ranked number one for having the highest crime rate of any city in Canada, per capita.

  Sarah steered her motorcycle up Bernard Avenue, through downtown Kelowna, past small shops and the tourists walking the stre
ets during the height of summer. At any other time in her life, she would love to rent a room for a few days with Aaron, swim in the lake and take in some of the night life.

  But that wouldn’t happen because Aaron was in Toronto and Sarah was here, in Kelowna, doing what she did best. She missed him. His touch, his tender soul. But she had to pursue her calling, do what the messages from her dead sister asked, and keep doing it indefinitely.

  Did she deserve Aaron? Did she deserve friends after what she did to Parkman? They had told her that she was beating herself up over a mistake, but what they failed to see was that this mistake almost cost Parkman, her loyal friend, his life. Sarah never bluffed. When she pulled out her weapon and aimed it at someone, she intended to use it. Having aimed the weapon at Parkman, with intent, meant he was about to be shot. The only reason she hesitated as long as she did, which was out of character for her, was because it was Parkman. In her mind, he hadn’t hesitated when it came to shooting her and she didn’t want to be as filthy, nor as cruel.