The Sarah Roberts Series Vol. 7-9 Page 38

  The cop looked up and down the empty hallway and then got to his feet. Darwin wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Together, they walked another fifteen feet to the nurse’s station.

  “Thank you so much for your help,” Darwin said. “But there’s no nurse here.”

  “She stepped away but said she’d be back in a moment.”

  “I’m in a lot of pain. You think you could ring them or go get them?”

  The cop looked back at the door he had been guarding. Then he checked his watch.

  “Are you hospital security?” Darwin asked.

  The cop shook his head. “Just watching a door.”

  “It’s not even six in the morning. Nothing’s going to happen. I’ll watch the door for you. Please, just get a nurse.” He winced and pretended to fall. “Hurry.”

  “Okay, okay, sit down then. I’ll be right back.”

  The cop turned a corner and ran down the hall leading the other way.

  The door he had been guarding clicked open.

  Sarah’s internal clock woke her half an hour before five in the morning. She quietly got up, pulled out her IV, and found her dirty clothes. Beside that sat the jeans and sweater Parkman had bought for when she left the hospital.

  She dressed slowly, favoring her bruises. Amazed nothing had broken, the doctor said she must’ve blacked out momentarily before she landed, making her body limp enough to hit the wall and ground without snapping anything. The only unfortunate part was her head, which he had to stitch.

  Parkman had stayed with her, had dinner, and then was allowed to go with Kierian to another room where he would sleep after he had agreed to confidentiality regarding Sarah. Kierian even made Parkman sign a document that no one would know about Kierian’s or Sarah’s condition until after the weekend.

  Sarah used the bathroom and washed her face. After the men had left her alone last night, Vivian had come. The message told her where to go and what to do. Some of it was confusing, but Sarah was prepared to do what she was told and get to the GMO conference.

  Nothing and no one would stop her from finishing this her way. Not even the guard outside her door.

  Vivian said the guard would be gone for one minute at 5:03 a.m. exactly.

  Sarah waited inside the room. There were voices in the hall. Two men were talking.

  What did Kierian do with my guns?

  Maybe the Italian authorities took her weapons. It didn’t matter. Vivian said she had taken care of that.

  It had been so good to hear from Vivian again.

  5:03 a.m.

  She opened the door slowly. The cop’s seat was empty, a small coffee cup on the floor beside a folded newspaper.

  She stepped out and looked both ways.

  A man in shorts and a tank top stood by the nurse’s station, watching her, a jacket draped over his arm.

  He leaned down and pulled his arm back. Then he tossed his jacket down the hallway. It slid along the floor and stopped three feet in front of her.

  “Take it,” he whispered.

  She recognized the voice but couldn’t tell who he was right away.

  “It’s Darwin,” the man said. “Your sister asked me to be here.”

  Sarah’s eyes widened. “How?”

  “Long story. Maybe later. Just take my jacket and get out of here before the cop gets back.”

  “I … I’m sorry you got involved.”

  “I’m not. Now get out of here.”

  Footsteps beat down the hall from around the corner on the other side of Darwin. She didn’t need any more prodding.

  She picked up the jacket and ran the other way, slipping it on. Muscles ached, joints protested, but Sarah was past caring.

  At the exit door three levels below, Sarah lifted the collar of the jacket and walked away from the hospital, Vivian’s note tucked in her pants’ pocket.

  Something hard bumped her ribs.

  She reached in the jacket pocket and found a gun. In the other pocket, extra rounds.

  She almost wept at his kindness.

  An inside pocket held a pair of scissors and a plastic baggie of dog food.

  How could Darwin know what I needed? Vivian? But how the hell did Vivian talk to him?

  Sarah disappeared around the corner at the same second the cop showed up beside Darwin.

  “This nurse here can help you,” he said. He searched the hall by the door where his empty chair sat.

  “Everything’s fine,” Darwin said. “Not a peep.”

  The cop nodded and smiled. He walked by Darwin, headed for the chair and his coffee cup on the floor.

  “What seems to be the trouble?” the nurse asked.

  “Lots of pain. Look at these scars,” he showed her his arms. “Everything hurts.”

  “What happened?”

  “Long story.”

  “But it looks like everything’s healed a long time ago.”

  “I know, but it still hurts.”

  “What room are you in?” the nurse asked.

  “I’m not in any room.” Darwin checked the cop. He was back in his chair, newspaper in hand.

  “I’m sorry, sir, but you have to register and check in downstairs.”

  “Oh, I didn’t know. Where do I go?”

  “This way,” the nurse pointed the way the cop had gone. “Down the elevator and register at the main desk. They’ll have someone attend to you there.”

  “Thanks very much.”

  Darwin limped around the corner and started down the hall. He got on the elevator, rode to the first floor and left the hospital. On the way by the dumpster, he pulled the long-haired wig off and tossed it away.

  I’ll see you at one in the afternoon, Sarah.

  He smiled to himself at how much fun it was being back in the game. Even if it was only for a little while.

  Chapter 41

  Sarah walked as the sun rose. Antico Caffè opened at six. She stopped there to fill her stomach on cornetti and two cappuccinos. Then she headed along the main road that led out of town, per Vivian’s instructions.

  She steeled herself against what she had to do. There was no other way. She kept her head down and hid most of her red hair under the back of the jacket. At this early hour, traffic was light, but a police car could happen by any time. She could not be apprehended again. Arresting her now would cause the murder of those two Italian ministers who were coming to speak at the GMO conference.

  She passed the train station and kept walking. A cement path had been built to the right of the road. She followed it, per Vivian’s instructions, until it dropped to the right and went under the train bridge. After crossing the Tiber River, she came to a T in the road. To her right sat a broken-down tobacco farm that had been abandoned years ago. The tiled roof of the fieldstone structure had collapsed a decade or two before. Birds flew in and out of the roof.

  This side road was even quieter than the one with the cement walkway. Only one car had passed her since she crossed over the river. A red sign posted on the side of the building in Italian, no doubt warning that the structure was dangerous, unfit for living in. She couldn’t read the words, but assumed one of them said condemned.

  Without a car in sight, she walked onto the property and headed for the back of the main building. There were three buildings on the land. The main house, some form of garage with wide open archways, and the other appeared to be a building once used for livestock. At the rear of the house, she couldn’t see the road. That meant if anyone came by, they wouldn’t see her.

  The sun wasn’t too hot this early yet, but sweat beaded on her forehead nonetheless. Her hands shook and stomach rolled at what Vivian had told her she would find in the cellar of this abandoned house.

  She said a silent prayer, checked that Darwin’s gun was loaded and ready, and tried the back door. It didn’t budge. She pushed harder. Nothing. She examined the exterior to see where it was caught. Nails everywhere. Someone didn’t want anyone else getting in for a long time.

&nb
sp; Sarah stepped back and ran at the door, lifted her right foot and kicked just as Aaron had taught her. After hitting the door, she landed hard, almost lost her balance and ended up on her knees. She breathed in deep, trying to collect herself, old injuries protesting. The hit on the door had rattled her. After playing punching bag to a stone wall three days ago, she wasn’t up to body checking a door. Her foot would have to do.

  She got up and looked around. Maybe there was something she could use to break in, but a quick survey of the immediate area found nothing. Short of heading over to the garage and trying to locate a rock, she would have to keep kicking at the door. Even if she found a rock, it would mean risking exposure to the road, which she couldn’t afford.

  If what Vivian said was true, which Sarah had no doubt, then being found on this property would see her in jail for many years to come.

  She gave the wooden door front kick after front kick until it started to weaken. She changed feet, changed position, and even kicked facing away from it, her foot coming from behind.

  Finally, the door cracked. She pulled on the wood and yanked a piece out. After that, it got easier. In fifteen minutes she was able to slip inside the house sideways.

  The inside was ruined. Weeds, straw and bits of abandoned machinery lay scattered throughout the building. It was dank and smelled of old urine. But there was something else mixed in with the smell.

  The putrid smell of something dead.

  She gagged briefly, swallowed, got herself under control and started walking across the floor, testing it routinely for safety. With the windows boarded up, only bits of sunlight came through cracks in the walls. The roof had collapsed, but that was on the second floor, leaving this area somewhat dark. To the far right, a stairwell led up. Sunlight came down the stairs, illuminating them as if a spotlight had been suspended at the top.

  Sarah headed that way. The stairs to the cellar were probably under the stairs to the second floor.

  Halfway across the main floor, she stopped at the sound of a car going by slowly outside. She waited, breathing quietly, listening. The vehicle continued along the road and faded in the distance.

  She took another step, tested it, and then took another. A couple of times, the cracking under her feet made her think she would fall right through the floor.

  Thump.

  As she neared the top of the stairs, something made a noise in the cellar. Hair lifted on the back of her neck and goose bumps rose as she pulled the weapon so fast she almost dropped it.

  The main floor remained empty, but something was in the cellar. She waited and listened, the gun aimed down the stairs.

  She edged closer to the stairs and looked down. It was completely dark, a murky blackness she had no desire to explore, but according to Vivian, she had to.

  Shit. Isn’t there another way, Vivian?

  She moved to the top step.

  “I’ve got a gun,” she yelled down. Then she realized how weak that sounded.

  Dealing with a tough guy and a knife or a gun was one thing. An enemy she understood and could fight. Dealing with an unknown in a basement of an abandoned building gave her the creeps.

  Something scurried in the dark below.

  Fear turned to anger. “Okay, I’m coming down. Piss me off and I’ll shoot first, talk later.”

  She took the first step.

  More scurrying.

  Probably mice.

  She took another step.

  Or rats. She shuddered. I fucking hate rats.

  She descended the steps into the darkness one at a time, the gun extended, her arms rigid.

  Chapter 42

  Parkman stepped off the elevator at the same time Kierian walked by the open elevator doors. He held two Americanos and two croissants in his hand.

  “You’re here early,” Parkman said.

  Kierian slowed and then stopped. “What, no good morning?”

  “Is it?”

  “Is it what?”

  “A good morning?”

  Kierian gave him a quick shake of the head. “You and Sarah are so much alike.”

  “I don’t think that’s all there is to it.”

  “What is it then?” Kierian asked.

  “We’re real people. Try it sometime. You might like it. That coffee for Sarah?”

  “Yup.”

  “Let’s go.”

  They walked the corridor together. At the door, the police guard didn’t check ID. It was the same guard on night shift since Sarah had arrived.

  “Quiet night?” Kierian asked.

  The guard nodded, his eyes bloodshot. “Tutto bene?” Everything’s okay?

  “Great.”

  Kierian knocked. Parkman held back and waited behind him. After a moment, Kierian knocked again.

  The guard frowned. “Maybe she’s still sleeping.”

  Kierian grabbed the door handle and twisted it. As he opened the door, he said, “Sarah, we’re coming in. Hope you’re decent.”

  The door opened all the way. Parkman followed Kierian inside.

  “She’s gone,” Parkman said.

  “What happened?” Kierian turned to the guard who had a stunned look on his face.

  The guard ran to the window. It was locked. He spewed a barrage of Italian, probably in an attempt to explain his ineptness.

  Parkman’s stomach dropped thinking about Sarah out there somewhere alone with the Italian authorities hunting her.

  This did not look good.

  Kierian handed him the second Americano as Sarah wouldn’t be drinking it. Parkman checked the closet where he had placed the new clothes yesterday.

  They were gone.

  “What’s he saying?” Parkman asked.

  “He’s saying he saw nothing. Sarah did not leave the room.”

  “He may want to check his eyes again. She’s not here.”

  “Wait, he’s saying something about a man in pain.”

  “A man in pain?”

  Parkman ate both croissants without offering one to either man as he waited, listening to the Italian officer explain himself to Kierian. He picked up the odd word, but not enough to understand everything he was saying.

  He knew Sarah too well. She wouldn’t sit in a hospital room and wait to be shipped back to the States like a piece of cargo. No, she would go after who screwed with her, and Vivian would help. However she pulled this escape off, he knew it would remain a mystery to these men by the confounded looks on their faces.

  Kierian turned to him. “He said around five in the morning a man showed up complaining of pain. He helped him walk to the nurse’s station and then he called a nurse for the man.”

  “How did he call a nurse?” Parkman asked. “Did he shout or use a telephone?”

  Kierian asked the guard. He turned back to Parkman. “He said he walked down the corridor about thirty yards, got her, and then returned. No longer than a minute.”

  “Sarah only needs five seconds.”

  The door swung open and the senior officer from yesterday stepped inside.

  Antonio Delarusso.

  His dark features were lined with gray hair and wrinkled skin from either too much smoking or too much sun. He had bags under his eyes. A thick mustache kept his mouth hidden. Only the man’s bottom lip showed when he talked.

  “What’s happening here?” he asked in English.

  “Sarah’s gone,” Kierian said.

  The officer moved sideways and looked past Kierian’s shoulder at the empty bed. He didn’t meet Parkman’s eyes.

  “And you are about to tell me the plane she is on?”

  Kierian shook his head slowly.

  “Then I will tell you that her safety isn’t my concern.”

  “Hey,” Parkman yelled and got off the bed. The guard by the window edged closer, but Parkman gave him a hard stare and the guard stopped moving. “Her safety had better be of utmost concern to you or I’ll have your badge. A statement like that sounds like a death threat, which is still illegal in thi
s country.”

  “I’m merely explaining that if she is out there, I can’t protect her.”