The Sarah Roberts Series Vol. 7-9 Page 2

  “What can I say that would convince you? With the proof of his actions on your skin, and a sworn statement, the police could arrest the man in question today. He would be off the streets and unable to hurt anyone else. Your shelter would be confidential. No one would ever know where you are. He could never find you.”

  Sarah looked around the room and then stared at nothing.

  “It’s all my fault,” she whispered.

  “It is never your fault when someone decides to abuse you. You can’t make him raise his hand.”

  She turned and glared at Jennifer. “My father beat my mother and me, and no matter how many times I told a teacher or an adult, nothing was ever done about it. The asshole alcoholic went on to drink himself to death. I grew up bitter, hating men but desiring them, needing them.” The lies went deeper. She was happy her loving father never had to hear this.

  “That still doesn’t excuse what this man has done to you,” Jennifer said, looking more and more uncomfortable.

  “Yes. It. Does.”

  “I’m curious.” Jennifer leaned back in her chair and looked down her nose at Sarah. “Why are you protecting the man who did this to you?”

  “You’re new here, aren’t you?”

  That caught Jennifer by surprise. She adjusted in her seat and rested her elbows on the armrests.

  “I’m not new, but this is about you and why you came here today. We can talk about me another time. I would like to help you. Coming here today, telling me a part of your story, displays a desire to get help. I’m only questioning why you’re still fighting it. Or are you fighting yourself? You are safe here. You can let it go. It’s over.”

  “Maybe this was a mistake.” Sarah stood and zipped up the lower part of her jacket. “I caused this.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “I taunt him. I go too far. When he gets home late from work, I ask who he’s been fucking. It drives him crazy. One night, I cooked for him, made everything all special, then threw the lasagna on the floor and told him to eat off the kitchen tile like the dog he is. That one got me knocked out for hours.” She moved toward the door. “So, do you see? Maybe this was a mistake. If I could only learn to control my jealousy and my mouth, maybe he wouldn’t hit me so much. Maybe if I’m nicer, he will be too.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Jennifer repeated as she swiveled in her chair to watch Sarah. “There are lots of relationships that go through problems, issues that may even need counseling, but violence is never the answer.”

  Sarah remained at the door. She looked Jennifer up and down, happy there were people like her helping the weak, sad that she had to lie and make up this story because Vivian told her to.

  According to Vivian, coming here today and fabricating a story would save other women’s lives and stop something called the ‘ultimate reset’ from happening again.

  The ultimate reset? What the hell is that?

  “He’ll kill me,” Sarah whispered at the door.

  “He can’t if you stay here and let us help you.”

  “It’s my fault,” she repeated. “I did this.” Fake tears moved down her cheeks. “I deserve what he’s done to me. And maybe, just maybe, if he ever kills me, it will be because I deserved that too.”

  “There’s a way out of this. You can stop it. Please let us help you.”

  “Coming here was a mistake. I’m sorry.”

  “No, it was the first step in healing.”

  “Don’t be contrary for contrary sakes,” Sarah snapped.

  Jennifer’s hands came up. “I’m sorry. Please forgive me, but I was only stating—”

  “Go ahead, invalidate my point now.” Acting crazy was never too hard for her. “You people don’t understand me. You never could. You haven’t walked in my shoes. You don’t know me.” She wiped the tears off her cheeks as anger replaced the crying. “Just for a minute I wish you could look inside my life. Then you would know how I torture men, too. I’m just as mean, just as horrible. But because he raised a hand, he goes to jail and I get a free pass to move onto the next man, willing, ready and able to be tormented. No, no thanks. I’ll stay right where I am until he either kills me or leaves me.” She opened the door and stepped into the hall. “What a fucking mistake coming here. I actually thought you people could help.”

  She pivoted on her heels and bumped into a woman being escorted to another room.

  Shit, didn’t mean for someone who really needs help to hear that.

  She wanted to whisper an apology, but instead met the woman’s blackened eyes and instantly saw her broken spirit.

  Chances are, she didn’t hear me.

  Their shoulders brushed as she passed Sarah in the hall. Then she disappeared into another room.

  Jennifer stood behind Sarah. “If you change your mind, we would love to help you into a new life. I could arrange counseling.”

  “No thanks. Tried that once. Counselor just wanted to discuss my parents and my childhood. Another waste of time.” She started down the hall toward the front of the house. “Thanks, Jennifer. I’m sure what you do is helpful, but you can’t help me. I shouldn’t have come today. I’m sorry for wasting your time.”

  Jennifer followed her up the hall. “I assure you it wasn’t a waste of time, and if you change your mind, I’ll be here.”

  When Sarah reached the door, she zipped her jacket up and wrapped her scarf around her neck. After pulling her hair clear of her jacket, she opened the door and stepped outside. With one last look behind her, she saw Jennifer watching her exit.

  A thought dawned on her. If they ever found out who she really was, they would think it was Aaron, a martial arts expert who she had come to complain about. She prayed that Vivian hadn’t set things in motion that would hurt Aaron. Even though they didn’t know who she was and could never find her, it was still disconcerting.

  She stepped off the porch. The snow had left a new film on the shoveled patio stones. When she got to the gate, a police cruiser pulled up.

  Dressed for the weather, the cop got out of his cruiser and placed a hat on his head. The hardness in his face revealed his age. He was either near or past retirement. When he met her gaze, he squinted, the crow’s feet on either side of his eyes deepening.

  As he walked around the cruiser and stepped onto the sidewalk, Sarah moved aside. He nodded and smiled at her as he moved past to the gate.

  At least he’s not here for me.

  A moment of recognition flashed across his face. He did a double-take, then looked away as if he had violated her privacy.

  Nothing about him was familiar to her.

  She slipped on her gloves and started walking. In minutes, she had made it down the street and turned down another.

  She hailed a cab five minutes later and gave Aaron’s home address.

  With the first of Vivian’s tasks complete, she had to get home to plan the next one. She had to go shopping for something sexy. Getting a job at a massage parlor was something she never thought her sister would ask of her. It was also something she could never tell Aaron about.

  He would forbid it.

  It was easier to just go and do what Vivian asked and then explain to Aaron why it was so important. Over the years, it was only Parkman who had ever understood her.

  Sarah wondered if her relationship with Aaron would last.

  Could she be with someone she had to lie to?

  Chapter 3

  Staff Sergeant Alan Lyson stepped inside the crisis center’s front door and shuddered from the temperature change. He quietly closed the door and moved to the window to watch the woman he passed at the gate. She trudged through the snow as she headed down the street.

  “Alan?”

  He spun around. “Jennifer.”

  “What are you up to?”

  “Stopping by to volunteer as usual. Who was that girl? The one who just left.”

  “Unless we’re processing her, taking her statement and pressing charges, I can’t tell you. But yo
u already know that. Why do you ask?”

  He straightened his back and stepped away from the window as he undid his jacket.

  “Anyone here that might want to talk to me?” he asked.

  “It’s bad. Woman in the back claims to have been beaten by her boyfriend and a couple of his gang members.”

  “Just beaten?”

  Jennifer shook her head. “Evidence of rape but it’s not recent, like in the last few days.”

  “Hospital involved yet? Examinations done?”

  “No.”

  “I could meet you at the hospital.”

  “She said she wouldn’t leave without a police escort. Since you’re the kindest soul around, and I hadn’t called it in yet, would you oblige?”

  “Fair enough, you got me.” He smiled. “But don’t forget, I retire in March. You’re going to have to find some other kind soul to volunteer, which means you should start looking soon.”

  Jennifer walked over, wrapped an arm inside Alan’s and started him toward the hallway.

  “Maybe you could recommend someone for us.”

  He looked sideways at her. “Sure, if you tell me what that girl said to you or if she told you her name.”

  “What girl?”

  “The one who left when I was coming in.”

  Jennifer pulled Alan to a stop.

  “Why is she so important?”

  “Because I think I know her. It may sound impossible, but I’ve seen the look in those eyes before. I recognized her eyes. They’re piercing, intense. I’m sure that was Sarah Roberts.”

  “How would you know her? Have you arrested her before?”

  “It’s not like that. Remember, I’m a staff sergeant, a platoon leader and now the DIC, Detective in Charge of a major case. I know a lot about my officers, who they arrest and who they deal with. I see the mug shots and the arrest records.”

  “You think she’s been arrested by one of your officers?” Jennifer asked.

  Alan looked up and down the empty hall. In a lowered voice, he said, “I lost some good cops last summer at that massacre in the mall downtown. When it was all said and done, Detective Waller, one of the best detectives our force ever had, retired because of it. The girl at the center of it all walked away. She left for the States somewhere. Last I heard, she was in Las Vegas. At least that’s what the papers said when the Las Vegas Police issued a statement claiming the girl in question had helped them solve a mastermind loan shark murder scam of some kind.”

  “And you think the girl who left here five minutes ago is that girl?”

  “If she was, I want to know. Actually, I need to know. I can’t have her running around my city without my knowledge. She’s too dangerous.”

  “Then you have the wrong girl.” Jennifer gestured to a door.

  Alan didn’t move. “Why do you say that? How can you be so sure?”

  “Because I saw her wounds. Scars from what looked like stabbings and bullet wounds. She has had a tough go of it. Oh, and her nose was recently broken but healing nicely.”

  Alan leaned against the wall. “What would she come here for?” he asked, almost to himself.

  “What are you talking about? Why else would abused women come here?”

  He met Jennifer’s eyes. “If it’s the same girl I’m thinking of, she’s not been abused.”

  “It sure looked like that to me.”

  “As far as I remember, the girl I’m talking about broke her nose in Vegas. Those wounds were inflicted on her as she fought a killer. If I’m right, her name is Sarah Roberts. She’s a known vigilante.”

  “She’s a what?” Jennifer asked, mouth agape.

  “A vigilante. Like Charles Bronson in the movie Death Wish.”

  “Never saw it.”

  “No one is abusing her because no one can.” He paused for a moment. “What did she tell you? It’s important.”

  “I can’t tell you that—”

  The door opened beside Jennifer. She turned around and spoke quietly to one of the other volunteers. The door shut softly.

  “She came here for the same reasons every other woman comes here,” Jennifer whispered. “At least that was my understanding.”

  “Then she lied. Something else is going on.”

  Alan walked back to the front foyer.

  “Wait. Aren’t you going to help this woman here?”

  “Yes, just give me a sec.”

  Alan called HQ to have Sarah Roberts located and her last known address sent to him. He had questions related to a murder from last summer. At least that was what he would let everyone think.

  Then he would go to her and find out what she was up to.

  And ask for her help in finding a killer, a case he was just assigned to.

  He was retiring in two months. The last thing he wanted was more dead people on his hands because Sarah Roberts was in town.

  He yearned for a smooth transition into retirement but something told him he wouldn’t get it.

  What the fuck is she doing in my city?

  He walked down the hall and entered the room where a woman sat with two black eyes, his mind elsewhere.

  Chapter 4

  Special Agent Penn Kierian of the FBI sipped his coffee in the warm front seat of the rented Impala and waited for Sarah to leave the crisis center. He’d called it in to his partner, Clint, as they were going to switch shifts soon.

  Sarah came out of the building and paused at the gate to check out the Toronto cop. He walked past her, both of them pausing.

  What was that all about?

  Then she started down the sidewalk at a brisk pace.

  He made a mental note to check out what she was doing at the crisis center as he followed a safe distance back. Once she was in the cab, he knew where they were going as the taxi headed toward Aaron’s apartment.

  He parked in his usual spot and left the engine running for heat. The roads had been cleared pretty well, but the wind and snow showed no signs of abating.

  His cell phone rang.

  “Kierian here.”

  “Where is she now?” Clint asked.

  “Back home. I have no idea why she went to the crisis center. She didn’t stay long.”

  “Let’s just hope it’s her sister’s doing. We’ve been on this boring detail too long. I have no idea how much longer they’re going to fund this.”

  “Don’t worry about that. They will never give up on this girl. If we don’t get something on her soon, they’ll just replace us.”

  Clint didn’t respond.

  “You still there?” Kierian asked.

  “Yeah. I’m heading over. You want anything?”

  “No. Just my hotel and a hot shower.”

  “Okay, see you soon.”

  He dropped the phone beside him and turned the vents up to clear the ice that had started to form on the windshield.

  “Damn you, Sarah Roberts,” he said out loud to the empty car. “Why are you taking so long to perform your magic tricks?”

  They had watched her for five months. Followed her from Vegas. Stayed a week in Maine when she visited that cop friend of hers, Parkman. Many nights, Kierian had sat outside Aaron’s dojo and watched him train her in self-defense moves.

  In all that time, he didn’t see a single act of violence, or a warning, or anything from Sarah. No crimes being solved. No superhero or vigilante stuff. All he needed was one and then he could grab her. But not until they had proof.

  He would need the message as well. However her sister communicated with her was critical to his investigation. Orders were orders. They were supposed to stay on her until they got what they came for. Or until they heard different.

  So how did a crisis center play into her life? Aaron wasn’t mean to her. Kierian was witness to night after night of dinner and wine, the evening strolls, the theater. Aaron’s home phone was being monitored. They’d received the paperwork within days of arriving in Toronto to set up the tap.

  But still nothing.

/>   If she was ever a real psychic or a real Automatic Writer, Kierian and Clint had seen no evidence of it in over five months.

  “All I need is one slip up and you’re mine,” he whispered as he stared at the amber light in the living room window of Aaron Stevens’ second floor apartment.