Losing Sarah (A Sarah Roberts Thriller Book 16) Page 9

  “That can be arranged. In time.” No Name sat down and leaned in close to the table. “How long have you known Eddie Coleman?”

  “Food first. Water first.”

  No Name didn’t bat an eye, didn’t move. “Eddie Coleman?”

  “Fuck you.” Sarah crossed her arms. “Lips are sealed until something like water or food unseals them. We all know this is bullshit.”

  No Name leaned back in his chair. “You don’t seem to understand the gravity of your situation here. You’re in a lot of trouble, Miss. Half this police station wants you dead because they think you’re to blame for several of their colleagues’ death in a Tijuana hotel. Eddie Coleman was shot and killed last night by the Mexican version of our SWAT team and a man named Hank Olsen is in critical care at the hospital after Eddie ran him over with his car. We have witnesses that place you at the scene uttering words like, ‘Wallace, get out of the way or you’ll die.’ Then you said, ‘And now a man dies,’ like you knew what was going to happen.”

  He adjusted his tie and placed his hands, open-palmed, on the table top. “Did you and Eddie plan this? Because, according to our inside guy, this was supposed to be a simple robbery, not murder. It’s starting to look like you and Eddie were going to kill Mark Struben and Wallace Stern and make off with the money. At least that’s what it looks like to an outsider. That’s attempted murder charges, Sarah.” He waved at a wisp of hair that had fallen over his forehead. “Say something in your defense, for fuck sakes?”

  She shook her head back and forth, pointed at her mouth, then her stomach.

  “Fuck a whale cock.” No Name got up from the table so fast his thighs banged it. “Get her something to fucking eat already. You’re such a stubborn bitch. Must be a Taurus.”

  Sarah nodded at him.

  Chapter 23

  “Parkman, I got somewhere.” Casper sounded out of breath on the phone. “But you’re not going to like it.”

  Parkman had been lying down, dozing. He hadn’t slept since before they were in the RV heading to the border. Without some kind of sleep, he’d be of no use to Sarah when she needed him.

  Aaron had gone for a walk, unable to sleep.

  “What?” Parkman sat up in bed and rubbed each eye with his free hand as he held the phone to his ear. “Tell me.”

  “The Mexican authorities have Sarah.”

  He was awake now. This was bad. Real bad. “How? Where?” He paused. “I’d need to know why, too.”

  “The information I got was spotty. Not many agencies offering up free information. I had to call in a favor.”

  “I don’t understand.” He got off the bed and walked to the large window overlooking the ocean six floors down. “Why would it be so hard to find an American citizen?”

  “The FBI is there under the radar. Some international investigation. The local authorities were also at your hotel last night.”

  “I know. The car accident thing.”

  “There was an attempted robbery of the casino and Sarah was involved. One guy is dead and one is in critical condition.”

  “Oh shit.” Parkman put a hand on his forehead and started rubbing. “Are they saying Sarah killed the guy?”

  “No.”

  “Then what? She’s a witness?”

  “No. The report I’m getting is they think she was in on it somehow. There were witnesses.”

  Parkman exhaled sharply. “But that’s what Sarah does. Of course she knew what was going to happen. Casper, we have to get her out of there.” Then a thought occurred to him. “Wait a second. When you called around earlier, you said you contacted the local police departments and got nowhere.”

  “I know. They lied.”

  His stomach did a flip. That could mean only one thing in this country. She would never see the light of day. “Why? I’m afraid to ask. What could that mean?”

  “It could mean all sorts of things. Maybe I got a desk clerk who didn’t care to look it up. Who knows how things work down there. But there is a catch.”

  “What?” Parkman didn’t know how much more he could handle.

  “The FBI is interested in the witness that was with Sarah. That’s why they were there last night.”

  “So. They can have him. All we want is Sarah.”

  “I know, but that’s the problem. The witness deals heroin and Sarah was seen in his car in the parking lot of the hotel she was staying in. He’s a known dealer in the area and apparently this is how he does his deals. In his car.” Casper stopped talking, coughed, then added, “I’m sorry, Parkman.”

  Parkman waited for his emotions to release their grip on his vocal cords.

  “Look, I’ve got a guy at the embassy down there working on sorting this out. He said he could get her out by sunset. Just be there when she’s released.”

  Parkman needed a toothpick. He wiped his face with his free hand.

  “Parkman?” Casper shouted in the phone.

  “Yeah. I’m here. Shit, Buck, what am I going to tell Aaron?”

  “Nothing right now. Just get in touch with the local authorities and wait while we negotiate her release. I’ll do what I can from Los Angeles.”

  “You’re in LA?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Sure wish we had crossed that border with you now.”

  “It would’ve been safer for Sarah to not remain in Mexico.”

  “One last thing.”

  “Shoot.”

  “Why would the FBI be interested in a drug dealer in Rosarito, Mexico?”

  “I asked myself that same question. Came up empty.”

  “Anything on Drake Bellamy?”

  “That’s two.”

  Parkman frowned. He paced the floor in front of the TV.

  “Two what?”

  “You said one last thing. Then asked two questions.”

  Parkman stopped pacing.

  “Nothing,” Casper said. “Just playing. Lightening up the mood. Sometimes my humor doesn’t work. Sarah always finds a way out of this kind of shit. She’s been in worse situations.”

  “What about Drake?”

  “Got nothing. He’s a ghost. Official record shows he drowned in Lake Ontario like you said. As far as anyone is concerned, that’s it. I talked to that cop Spencer, in Toronto. Repeated what I found out on Drake.”

  “I saw Drake Bellamy on that camera. He’s alive.” A pulse beat in his throat and temple. “People are lying to you.”

  “I know. I hear you. I’ll get to the bottom of this. Just go get Sarah. She’s eight blocks away.” Casper gave him the address. “They’ll lie. Say she’s not there. Persevere. You’ll get through. After what happened at that hotel in Tijuana, I don’t like the thought of Sarah alone in a Mexican police station. My embassy guy is working it. Just hang there until you get her. Then find an airport and leave Mexico.”

  As Parkman clicked off, the hotel room door opened. Aaron stepped inside and closed the door behind him. He had aged at least five years in the hour they’d been apart.

  “Anything?” Aaron asked.

  “You need to sit down for this, but you can’t. I’ll tell you on the way. We haven’t got much time.”

  Chapter 24

  Two pre-packaged sandwiches later and two water bottles, Sarah was full, but sick now. To quell the urge to throw up after finally eating, she controlled her breathing, sat still and waited for the food to settle. Every second, every minute it remained inside her was good.

  No Name was back, alone this time.

  “You ready to talk?” he asked.

  “Sure. I’ll talk.” She leaned back on her chair, balancing on two legs. Thought better of it as the movement upset her stomach, and slowly set the chair back to the floor.

  “Earlier, you heard the predicament you’re in. Why were you at the casino last night?”

  “My boyfriend and I are on vacation. Just happened to be out enjoying the night air.”

  “Bullshit. You’re doing one of your psychic dances here and the Mexic
an authorities don’t like it.”

  “Psychic dance? Sounds new ageish.”

  “Sarah, wherever you are, death follows, just not yours.”

  “That’s good, then. Right?”

  No Name got up from his chair and walked to the wall where he rested a shoulder against it. “You’re a smart-ass little bitch. They have enough shit to charge you with that you won’t leave Mexico until you’re in your fifties and you crack jokes like a wise ass. The only reason I’m here is to see if you’ll talk to me, shed some light on how you know Blair Turner and why you were there last night.”

  Something clicked in her mind. Through her symptoms—which seemed to have subsided some—she was able to perceive that No Name’s real objective was Blair Turner. The man hadn’t offered his name because he technically wasn’t here and would deny he talked to her. They were working a case on Blair and wanted what she knew about him. On that count, they would be sorely disappointed.

  And what happened to Drake? Where had they taken him? All she’d seen were the Mexican cops and this No Name guy.

  “What’ll it be?” No Name asked. “You gonna talk to me?”

  “I am talking.”

  He pushed off the wall. “Fuck sakes. You know what I mean.”

  “I don’t know these people. Never did. And anyone can see a car racing across a parking lot and predict someone’s going to die when that car is aimed at them. Now, can I go?”

  He stood beside her, looking down, his eyes bulging with something like rage. Or hatred.

  “Can you go? Can you go? No, you cannot go. This isn’t the principal’s office in high school. You’re in a Mexican police station waiting for charges to be filed, so you cannot go.” He walked behind her. She planted her feet in case she needed to jam the chair back into his abdomen. “What you need to do is help yourself.” Then he was on the other side of her. “You need to talk, little lady. Think of talking as a currency and you’re buying your way out of this place.”

  “I think I need a nap.”

  No Name spun around and brought his face up close to hers. “What did you just say?”

  “I ate. Now I’m tired.” She offered him a polite smile, then dropped it. “I want a nap. Send me back to my cell.” She turned to the door. “Guards.”

  No Name slapped the table in front of her, the sound reverberating throughout the small interview room.

  The door opened and two armed men entered with another man in a suit carrying a briefcase.

  “Leave the room,” Briefcase man said. “Now.”

  “Who the fuck are you?” No Name asked.

  “Her new lawyer. She’s being released. This interview is illegal and will not be admissible in court. Now get out.”

  Lawyer? Wow, how did you pull this off, Sis?

  No Name looked as though he was about to have a coronary on the spot. His head swiveled from Sarah to the lawyer, then back to Sarah. He kicked the table like a little boy who couldn’t get his way and stormed from the room, nearly smashing into the lawyer.

  “Sarah, I need you to sign a couple of documents saying you’ll stay in Mexico until the investigation is complete and we need to be able to get in touch with you. Sign these and you are free to go.” The lawyer turned to the guards behind him. “No one will try to stop you.”

  Sarah signed the papers and was escorted to the back of the police station where Blair Turner waited.

  “Oh, shit. Did they do that?” he asked, examining her bruised cheek.

  Her ribs ached, but nothing was broken from the first beat down. They had sent a message. Letting some of their angst out. She had gotten used to cops over the years.

  Blair didn’t look so good. His posture appeared crumpled, like he tried something but was defeated. His complexion had paled, an unhealthy yellow-white. She wondered what happened to him in there.

  “That was you back there?” she asked, ignoring his question. “The lawyer?”

  He looked down at the ground, where he kicked a rock. “My mother’s lawyer. Everybody in here listens to that guy. Got me out, too. Did you read the paper the lawyer had?”

  “Your mom’s a powerful woman.”

  He glanced up, eyes bloodshot. Before he looked away she saw that he’d been crying. “Did you read the paper you signed?”

  “No.”

  “You’ve been remanded into my mother’s custody until these fools say you’re not.”

  “Wrong.” Sarah stepped around him.

  “What?” He ran to catch up. “Sarah, you signed them. You need to come home with us or you void that document.”

  “Consider it voided.” She stopped at the sight of Drake sitting behind the wheel of a red car a block away.

  “My mother wants to meet you, have you for dinner. She’s in the car waiting. Entertain me. Do this. You won’t regret it.” Blair pointed at a black Mercedes, the sun glinting off its roof. A thick man sat behind the wheel. It was the only way she could describe him. His neck was as thick as his skull. The rear windows were tinted so dark, nothing inside was visible.

  “You coming?” Blair pleaded. “After all, she did post your bail and gave you free legal counsel.” He started toward the car, then stopped and looked back when she didn’t follow. “Sarah?”

  The back area was a small parking lot where the Mexican cops parked their personal vehicles. One road traversed the back. On the left, the way the Mercedes was aimed, the road was empty. On the right, Drake’s red four-door sat at the end, by the connecting road. His vehicle was like something you could rent at any car rental company. Upon closer inspection, she was absolutely sure it was Drake Bellamy behind the wheel. Instead of going with Blair, she should be going with Drake. They needed to talk, catch up. She had so many questions for him.

  “I’m sorry, Blair.” She stepped closer to him. “I don’t know you or your mother. Thank her for helping me out.”

  “She’s going to be very disappointed. She usually doesn’t get this kind of response.”

  “I’m not your usual kind of girl.”

  She started toward Drake’s car. The moment she did, his hand became visible over the steering wheel, palm up in a stop gesture. Her pace faltered. She stopped. What was he trying to say? Her internal radar pinged, even as her legs were still weak from withdrawal and her stomach roiled around like it was filled with balls of lead.

  Over her shoulder, she saw Blair about to enter the Mercedes. She pivoted back to Drake. He gestured for her to go to Blair. But why? What did Drake know? She felt so far out of the loop, her head spun.

  Sarah, go with Blair …

  That sealed the deal. Even Vivian wanted her in that Mercedes. Vivian was the reason she was here in the first place. Otherwise she’d be in Santa Rosa with her parents, or swimming in the hotel pool with Aaron.

  “Shit cake,” she whispered to herself. “With yellow fucking icing.” Maybe she would get that one more fix of heroin after all. Maybe that’s what Vivian wanted for her. A fix. She got her to meet up with Blair to buy drugs and now she was heading to Blair’s lair.

  A door opened behind her. Blair spoke to someone inside the car. The tone was hushed, too low for her to make out the words.

  “Blair,” she shouted over her shoulder. “Wait. I’m coming with you.”

  She stared at Drake’s car a moment longer, imperceptibly nodded at him, then headed for the Mercedes.

  You better be right about this, Vivian.

  With each step she was filled with dread at the thought of getting a fix at Blair’s place. She had almost beat this thing even though it had only been a day since she left the Enzo compound.

  But if he did have a little heroin, it could smooth out the edges for a day or two. Get back to Aaron soon. Beat this thing after the vacation.

  That could work.

  She was lying to herself and would never let that happen. She was too strong. She could resist. Had to. For Aaron, she would resist. For Parkman. For herself.

  She only hoped, whe
n the time came, that was true.

  Chapter 25

  FBI Special Agents Fitzgerald and King had finished every morsel of food in the cruiser and now King needed a toilet.

  “Can’t we walk in there, identify ourselves, and as a professional courtesy, they let us use the toilet?”