The Abandoned (A Sarah Roberts Thriller Book 14) Page 2

  “You’re free to go, Miss Roberts.”

  Sarah’s patience was at an all-time low. A dull throb emitted from her split skin on her shoulder blade, elevating her temper a degree. She probably needed to change the bandage but she didn’t have any extras on her.

  If this detainment was a personal score, it would anger her. If they were just checking to see if Sarah was free and able to leave the country, if they were just doing their jobs, then so be it. It was time to go. Boarding had probably already commenced.

  “Maybe you should rethink coming back to Toronto,” the guard said.

  Sarah edged closer until they were inches apart. “Are you threatening me? What are you, a security guard at the airport? Who are you to tell me I’m not welcome in this city?” Sarah waited for a response, but none came. “Are you interested in a lawsuit? Are you interested in repaying the cost of my flight? Or should I go to the police and lay criminal charges of forcible confinement? I can add to that how you threatened me as well.”

  The guard stepped back and knocked twice on the door. It unlocked. She clutched the handle, but didn’t turn it.

  “You’re free to go,” the guard repeated.

  Sarah waited. Something else was on the guard’s mind. Then the door was opened from the outside.

  Cautiously, Sarah moved past her into the corridor. One guard stood on the outside of the door. They exchanged a glance before Sarah started down the deserted hall.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll find my way back,” she shouted over her shoulder.

  Both guards followed her to the exit at a distance. The push bar in her hand, Sarah stopped and turned around in time to see the female guard wipe a tear from her cheek.

  “What’s on your mind?” Sarah asked in a softer voice. “What were you trying to say back in the room? What was this all about?”

  The woman gestured for Sarah to go as she turned away and started down the corridor in the opposite direction. Sarah moved her gaze to the male guard.

  “Samantha Mason, that cop’s wife who was murdered, was like a mother to her.”

  It all came together in a second. Samantha Mason, Niles Mason’s wife, had been tortured and killed yesterday. Originally the police thought it was Sarah’s fault. But now they knew different. The people affected by loss, the collateral damage that came with the life Sarah lived, was something she rarely saw.

  “Tell her I’m sorry. It had nothing to do with me. In fact, I tried to stop it. When I got to where they were holding Samantha, I was too late.”

  “Doesn’t matter now,” the guard said. “Just go. Catch your flight. The sooner you’re out of our airport, the better it’ll be for everyone.”

  Without another word, Sarah slipped out and let the door close behind her. Unexpected, raw emotions swept over her. She had tried to save Samantha Mason. But she couldn’t save everybody. Maybe people expected too much from her. Maybe it was time for a break after all.

  But first she had to track down the black book. She had to locate the man who had it in Amsterdam and return it to Toronto. Then she would stop being a vigilante for a while.

  She looked outside at the airplanes on the tarmac.

  Or she could leave through an exit door and walk off into the distance. She could keep walking until she hit a beach, bought a little hut with the rest of the savings her father had supplied her and settle in for long days of sun and margaritas. Let the world figure itself out. Let them all kill each other.

  But the faces of the dozens of girls she had saved from the Torture Club in Toronto passed before her mind’s eye. The frail, broken bodies from the horror house in Orillia. All the people before them, too.

  And just like that, it all came clear to her. The purpose wasn’t them, exactly. The purpose wasn’t solving crime like some super hero or gifted vigilante. The purpose was Sarah. Everything Vivian did was through Sarah. She was the vessel. Sarah Roberts was the purpose, Vivian’s purpose. She had accepted that years ago and never doubted it. She had lived against impossible odds. She had survived where others wouldn’t have because she had Vivian. And until Vivian didn’t need her anymore, Sarah had to fulfill that purpose. She was duty bound.

  That meant getting on the plane for Amsterdam.

  It also meant understanding that as sad as Samantha’s death was, there were countless others who were saved. Had the torture club continued its reign, dozens, if not hundreds of women would have fallen prey to its will. Sarah didn’t author this death and destruction of the societal fabric. All she ever did was attempt to mend it. And if people died along the way, all she could do was her damnedest to minimize the damage.

  In the end, everything had to be weighed on a scale. To remain idle meant dozens of deaths, if not hundreds. To respond to the call to action meant the possibility of collateral deaths. Without hesitation she had picked the call to action. Not only was that the right answer, it was the better answer. It was also the most fun. Punishing those responsible for the shit they thought they could get away with offered Sarah a pleasure like nothing else. Shutting assholes down had become too enjoyable to quit.

  She pulled her gaze from the tarmac in the distance, broke her reverie, and headed back to her gate. A new excitement was in her step, a feeling of elation as she knew she was the purpose. By acquiring the black book and returning it to Toronto, she could almost guarantee a whole list of powerful people would have to answer for their actions.

  All that with one book.

  How hard could this be?

  She was ready, energized, and excited to nail this task. Then she would hide in Aaron’s apartment until she was ready to listen to Vivian again.

  That and a lot of Johnnie Walker Black.

  Yes, Johnnie Walker Black.

  She ran for gate B14. The remaining people by her gate were forming a line as an announcement stated that it was the final boarding call for flight K338 with service from Toronto to Amsterdam. She fell in line at the back and pulled out her passport and boarding pass.

  What could that female airport guard mean when she said that someone high up had called in? And how could that caller know what was happening in the airport in real time? Perhaps they received a play-by-play from the blonde man.

  That creeped her out. Someone had to be watching her.

  The waiting area was mostly empty.

  And she was still confused by the Automatic Writing. Why didn’t Vivian whisper the message in her head as she’d done before? It was the dramatic Automatic Writing that brought airport security running. Ultimately Vivian had been the one who caused her delay. But why? What was going on?

  There were four people left to board in front of her.

  Should I be getting on this plane, Vivian?

  Earlier, in Vivian’s message regarding the flight to Amsterdam, she had warned Sarah that the plane would crash. But she hadn’t warned her off the plane.

  What do you want, Vivian? Do you want me to willingly catch a plane that is doomed or not?

  One person in front of her left.

  Then the attendant took Sarah’s boarding pass, ran it over a square window in a console that beeped, examined her passport and handed them both back.

  “Enjoy your flight, Miss Roberts.”

  The other attendant was preparing to close the doors to the tunnel that led to the plane. Sarah’s stomach did another flop and settled low in her abdomen.

  Vivian, give up the ghost here. What’s your angle? On or off the plane? Running out of time, Sis.

  When no answer was forthcoming, Sarah stopped halfway down the tunnel.

  Is our man with the black book on the plane? If so, and it’s going to crash, I don’t need to be here, do I?

  Nothing.

  “Excuse me, ma’am,” the attendant said behind her. “You’re going to have to keep moving. The plane is preparing to leave.”

  Sarah started walking again.

  Vivian? I need direction here.

  At the entrance to the plane, Sarah stopped
and showed her boarding pass to another attendant.

  “Row fourteen, seat C.” She motioned with her hand. “Down this aisle.”

  Sarah couldn’t control the nerves that made her body shake.

  How many people willingly walk onto a plane that will crash, Vivian? Help me out here. There’s still time. Should I warn the attendants so we don’t take off? Shouldn’t I be saving everyone on board?

  She located her aisle seat and plunked down beside a tall woman and what appeared at first glance to be the woman’s young son. They nodded at each other.

  Do you need me on this plane for another reason? Is that it?

  One of the flight attendants was closing the plane’s door. The tunnel was cut off a moment later. Unless Sarah made a ruckus, she was committed now.

  Fuck, Vivian. Sometimes you really piss me off.

  She clicked her seatbelt, whispered a silent prayer, and rested her head back.

  Moments later, as the plane jerked backwards and began to pull away from its docked position, she remembered she hadn’t called Aaron to warn him to hospitalize his new student. She had no idea what that meant and no idea if Aaron would even do it anyway.

  “Excuse me, but before we take off, do you have a cell phone I could borrow?” she asked the woman to her left.

  The response was a shake of the head.

  Someone tapped her shoulder from behind.

  “Here, you can use mine.”

  Sarah turned in her seat to look into the face of the blond man from earlier. The one she thought had been watching her. She took his phone, said thanks, and turned back to face forward in her seat. What was his deal? Is he connected to anything happening right now? Or is he a coincidence?

  She pushed buttons on his cell phone, scanning through messages and recent numbers dialed as fast as she could in an attempt to glean anything that would reveal who he was.

  The woman beside grunted. Sarah glanced her way. The look on her face was one of disgust. Sarah had asked to borrow a phone and was rifling through the man’s privacy. It obviously bothered the woman.

  “These new phones,” Sarah said. “Can never figure them out.” She shrugged.

  The woman leaned over and pushed a button. The keypad lit up, the cell phone function shined bright on the screen.

  She dialed Aaron’s apartment as one of the flight attendants was moving down the aisle checking seat belts and making sure carry-on baggage was safely stowed under the seat ahead. When she made it to Sarah’s row, the cell phone would have to be turned off.

  It started ringing.

  “Come on, Aaron. Pick up.”

  On the fourth ring, the flight attendant still six seats away, Aaron’s machine picked up. Four seats away, the attendant stopped to help someone put a bag in the overhead bin compartment.

  The machine beeped in her ear.

  “Listen Aaron, you are going to have a new student at the dojo. Don’t trust him. Vivian says there’s something wrong with him. I need you to hospitalize that new student then disappear for a week or more. Can you do that for me? Listen closely.” The attendant stopped at Sarah’s chair. Sarah raised a finger to inform the attendant she would only be a second more. “Hospitalize the student,” Sarah whispered. “Then disappear. Do it in that order. But make sure you do it.”

  Sarah ended the call.

  The woman beside her was exchanging odd glances with the attendant. Then the attendant met Sarah’s gaze.

  “I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to turn your cell to airplane mode.”

  “I have one more quick call to make.” She needed to try Parkman’s cell. They might still be together. She needed to hear Aaron agree to do it.

  “I’m sorry, but those are the rules. Airplane mode. We’re about to taxi out for takeoff.”

  They had heard what she said into the machine. The attendant seemed wary of her. To push it would be to raise an alarm. She had done what Vivian wanted of her. She had left a message for Aaron. He would get it today when he got home. He would listen to it and know how important it was to take the advice. He would never not listen to what Vivian asked, would he?

  “Okay,” Sarah said. “Sorry about that.”

  She turned in her seat and handed the phone back to the mysterious blonde man behind her, then righted herself in her seat.

  It was going to be a long flight.

  And during the flight she wanted to take inventory of every face on the plane. She had no idea what her enemy looked like, and Vivian wasn’t talking to her. So she would walk the aisles watching the passenger’s faces, waiting until she saw a response from one of them.

  Could it be that easy? Or could it be the man behind her?

  Was that why he was watching her earlier? What was his role in her purpose? Or was he responsible for the call from higher up?

  She would wait until the meals were rolled out and cleaned up. She would wait until the lights dimmed on the nine-hour flight. She would wait until the blonde man got up to use the lavatory.

  Then she would learn who he was and what he was up to, whether he was willing to tell her or not.

  Answers were always there for the taking.

  You just had to know how to take them.

  You just had to know how to ask.

  Chapter 2

  The plane will crash.

  Even with that knowledge, Sarah got on the plane anyway. She had to surmise that the crash would be a minor one, otherwise Vivian would’ve tasked her to keep the plane grounded.

  Her stomach still stirred. With so many unknowns—where was the black book, how many casualties would be due to the plane crash, who was the blonde guy in the seat behind her—Sarah could barely think about food.

  Yet within an hour of taking off, the meal was being rolled out. The passengers were offered a choice between pasta or chicken. She had picked the chicken, but regretted it when she saw the pasta in the woman’s dish beside her. Leaving half her meal untouched, Sarah sipped from the small bottle of wine the flight attendant had given her and waited until the trays were collected.

  Her seat companion’s approximately six year old son, fussed in the window seat, but his mother did a reasonably good job of calming him down. Sarah figured the woman wasn’t interested in small talk after she overheard what Sarah had said into the cell phone prior to takeoff.

  That was okay, though. Sarah wasn’t here to make friends. She was here to locate the black book and return it to Toronto so Detective Marina Diner could finish her investigation into Toronto’s Torture Club.

  This would be a simple in and out. Land, use Vivian to find the book, and fly back to Toronto. Nothing to it, other then the fact that the plane was going to crash. There’s that, though.

  She laid her head back and closed her eyes, trying to envision what it was about the blonde man behind her that had her worked up. As far as she could remember without turning around and looking at him, he was dressed in a sports jacket, a collar shirt and dress pants with shiny black shoes. His hair was almost white blonde, but it gave him an older man sexy look. Like a James Bond kind of man. But something about him led her to believe he wasn’t just a businessman on his way to Europe.

  He had an agenda and she was certain it had something to do with her. Otherwise, why did he spend so much time watching her back at the airport? At the same time, she was also certain he wasn’t the man with the black book.

  Out of repulsion, she tried to avoid the thought that the blonde man invoked images of Rod Howley, the dead government agent from the Sophia Project.

  But it couldn’t be. The Sophia Project had stopped chasing her years ago. Rod had died a horrible death in Toronto as well as his replacement. During that year, she recalled sadly, she’d lost Dolan and Esmerelda as well. Two people the world was a darker place without.

  Why did it have to be this way? Why were so many people bent on hurting others, destroying lives?

  She closed her eyes and thought about all the people she had lost. How h
er parents had been targeted for death by that Rapturites group. And then how they were tormented and almost killed by Violeta Payne the year Sarah had been shot in the head by Violeta’s daughter.

  Maybe it would be better if she was a loner. Maybe she should change her name, go underground, make it harder for fundamentalists to locate people like her parents, or even Aaron. Going forward, doing what she does, Sarah always knew there was an element of danger for her loved ones.

  They had accepted that, though. Her father loved what she did and supported it. Parkman had never said an unsupportive word. It’d only been Aaron who had tried to school her on her activities. And Aaron had gotten into the most trouble for it.