The Unlucky (19 page)

“There’s two of them, sir. And they have a body on a stretcher. They’re wearing white doctors’ clothes and they’re—”

The elevator door cut him off. It began to ascend.

“Whew,” Parkman said.

Aaron blew air out between his lips. He seemed to have sobered up in the last few minutes.

Sarah mumbled something. Parkman leaned down.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Hot bath. I need a drink.”

“Coming right up.”

Aaron moved closer. “We’ll go to my apartment. Once there, I’ll draw you a bath.”

Sarah grunted acknowledgment as the elevator doors opened on the main floor.

Calmly, as if they didn’t have a care in the world, like they were supposed to be there, Parkman pushed the stretcher while Aaron held the front to steer it. They headed for the back of the hospital as quickly as they could without running.

Cameras followed them at intervals. Near the back doors, Parkman heard people running behind them.

“Grab her, Aaron. Gotta go. Now.”

Aaron threw Sarah over his shoulder fireman style and followed Parkman into the rear parking lot.

A yellow taxi was dropping a patient off. The driver was at the back door on the other side of the car as he helped the elderly woman with her walker.

Aaron dropped Sarah into the backseat. Parkman landed in behind her and rested her head on his lap. When he slammed the door shut, he swung his head back to look at the hospital.

At least a dozen men ran toward them. There was no time to get the driver in the vehicle and get it under way. The cabbie wouldn’t leave with that many men shouting for them to stop anyway. Defeated, he looked down at Sarah and almost whispered,
we tried.

But the car’s shocks bounced as Aaron dropped in the driver’s seat.

Parkman glanced out the open door where the elderly woman was standing at her walker. The driver of the cab was splayed out on the pavement, just getting to his feet.

Then the taxi shot forward, slamming the back door and cutting off Parkman’s view.

In seconds they were on University Avenue and heading deeper into Toronto.

Parkman caressed Sarah’s cold forehead and brushed her hair out of her face. He rested his head back and closed his eyes.

Holy shit, that was close.

Chapter 23

The morning sun beat through Aaron’s open bedroom curtains.

Heat
.

She forgot how much she loved heat. The cold storage unit hadn’t been too bad, but after an hour inside, the temperature had permeated her marrow, chilling her from the inside as well as the outside. Joints stiffened, muscles protested movement. It had been a hassle to continue texting. She’d sent the messages. She could wait. They would come. And they had.

When they’d returned to Aaron’s apartment, she’d had the hottest bath of her life with candles and red wine. Then they talked. The three of them talked until after two-thirty in the morning, bringing each other up to speed.

Drained after her long day, she had almost fallen asleep on them on the couch. Aaron carried her to bed and had been a gentleman all night, not touching her other than to cuddle. They needed personal time to discuss things. Their relationship was and had always been founded on respect, understanding and acceptance. Sex was the glue that kept things together and the oil that kept things moving forward without resistance, but it was never the base. Never, because a sex-based relationship always fell apart. There was a time and a place for sex-based relationships, ones built on lust, but it didn’t have a chance with her and Aaron.

She eased his arm off her shoulder and got up to use the toilet. Her limbs were stiff and sore from yesterday. After finishing in the restroom, she walked over to the bedroom’s sliding doors and looked outside. A cloudless sky promised a hot and humid day in Toronto.

She jumped at a loud knocking on the apartment door. Aaron was already sitting up in bed when she turned to him.

“Who the fuck is that?” he asked. His eyes turned down to the bedside clock. “And at just after seven in the morning.”

The knock came again.

He bolted out of bed, slipped into his jeans, and headed for the front door.

“Stay in here. Hide in the closet if you have to. Don’t worry, I’ll get rid of whoever it is.”

When he got to the living room, Sarah peeked around the corner and saw Parkman, already dressed waiting for Aaron at the apartment door. Parkman mouthed the words,
A woman.

Sarah shut the bedroom door quietly and began to get dressed. Aaron kept her spare clothes in his place and hadn’t gotten rid of any in her absence. Dressed in faded blue jeans, a tight blue T-shirt, and white socks, Sarah eased back over to the bedroom door and placed an ear against it.

A female was the only other voice besides Aaron and Parkman. They were discussing Sarah’s day and how many people were dead.

She gripped the doorknob and ever so slowly turned it. Once it stopped, she pulled softly, and the bedroom door opened a crack. The voices doubled in volume without the door as a barrier.

She listened for half a minute, then opened the door all the way. From her vantage point, no one was visible, which meant they were all sitting in the living room.

“We have to find Sarah,” the woman said. “This needs to end. The city is in a panic.”

“Now c’mon, the city isn’t in a panic,” Parkman said. “That girl was going to jump. You said so yourself. And that couple who were killed near Orillia were found with multiple victims inside their house. Whoever shot that couple—”

“Sarah Roberts shot Joel and Belinda,” the woman interjected.

“Allegedly,” Parkman said, ignoring her interruption. “Whoever shot those people did the public a favor.”

“But that’s not how it works and you of all people should know that, Parkman. I know the friends you have on the force. And I know how well liked Sarah is, but this has to end. She needs to come in and answer for what she has done. There’s no other way out of this mess.”

“And you came here today thinking she’d be here?” Aaron asked.

“Where else? You were both witnessed at the hospital last night. My partner was there. When he texted the pictures from the hospital cameras to me, I knew where to go next.” She cleared her throat. “Out of respect to you two and to the Sarah we all know, I came alone. But I can’t guarantee who else will be coming.” She coughed and cleared her throat again. “So, where is she?”

Vivian whispered to Sarah. In seconds, Sarah understood that this woman, Detective Marina Diner, was an asset and would help in completing her tasks in Toronto. Sarah understood everything as she stepped into the room and stood behind Aaron’s armchair.

Marina gasped and stopped pacing by the glass doors that led to the balcony. Parkman widened his eyes and raised his eyebrows. He already had a toothpick in his mouth.

Same old Parkman.

Sarah leaned down and whispered in Aaron’s ear. He nodded. She moved to the side of Aaron’s chair while he stood.

Marina was a pretty woman in her forties. A strong figure for her age, lean and tight, like she was a part-time runner, part-time bodybuilder. She had to spend considerable time in the gym for a physique like that. In her black dress pants, white collared shirt and light suit jacket, she looked like the stereotypical detective, the kind found on movie posters. Any woman who took care of herself this well in a man’s world deserved respect.

“Well, I must say, I’m surprised to see you.” Diner’s eyes dropped to Sarah’s sock feet and rose until they met Sarah’s eyes. “You’re a lot smaller in person than I expected.”

“I’ve gotten that before.”

“Did you step out of the back room to resist arrest? Or are you turning yourself in?”

“Neither.”

Diner started across the living room floor tentatively, one foot in front of the other, then a pause, then one more step.

“You don’t have a lot of options, young lady. You’re going to have to come with me.”

“I came out of the bedroom to talk.”

“Fine.” Diner stopped in front of her and pulled cuffs off her belt. “We can talk, but come on, Sarah. This can’t go on. I have to take you in. If it isn’t me, then who knows what police officer will arrest you and how trigger happy they will be after you murdered Simmons last night.”

Sarah forgot how fast Aaron was. After achieving a black belt in Shotokan Karate many years ago, he opened a dojo and taught others until they got to the black belt level. He had three amazing teachers working at his dojo that saved his life in Greece once. He owed them everything, including the success of his business.

When he was focused, honed as he was now, he was silent, fast, and efficient, every muscle having the exact amount of use, tension and thrust during a subdue, handhold and lockdown. In under a second, Diner was forced back away from Sarah, manhandled to her knees and absolutely immobilized. Aaron locked her hands behind her head, her legs bent back under the weight of her own fallen body. Her neck was cocked at an angle that even mild struggle appeared to cause pain.

“I’d suggest you be still,” Sarah said, her voice soft and feminine. It was hard to be the alpha she portrayed in the street when Aaron was in the room. He was too much alpha for all four of them put together. Even Parkman had leaned back on the couch and crossed his legs like he was about to have an afternoon cup of tea. “I’m going to remove your weapon and car keys, now.” Sarah pulled Diner’s gun and slipped it into the back of her pants. The car keys she dropped in her pocket. Then she nodded at Aaron.

Almost faster than the eye, he released the grip on her hands, pulled her arms down and around her back and cuffed her. Professional that she was, not a single peep of protest issued from her.

He released the detective, crab walked backwards away from her and got to his feet, barely an extra breath of effort for his trouble.

Fuck, I love this guy. Jerk that he is sometimes, that was special to watch.

As Diner struggled to her feet, Sarah stared at Aaron.

“You have to teach me that shit,” she said. “That was good.”

Aaron offered a barely perceptible nod as Parkman got off the couch and helped Diner to a sitting position. Clearly she hadn’t been in cuffs too often. Then, on a count of three, he lifted her onto the couch. Her pelvis stuck out as she made room for her bound hands behind her.

“And what will this solve?” Diner asked, a wisp of hair dangling in her right eye. She stuck out her lower lip and puffed it away.

Sarah sat in Aaron’s chair, facing Diner. Parkman was back in his spot on the sofa, as casual as ever, toothpick wandering back and forth across his lips. Aaron pulled a chair from the dining room table and sat.

“Everything can be explained,” Sarah said. “For the right person to listen.”

“I’m not that person,” Diner responded. “A judge is. A jury. It’s only my job to bring the suspects in and build a case.”

“I disagree.” Sarah leaned back and brought her knees up, resting her feet on the chair. “Aaron, can we have some coffee while we talk?”

“Gladly.” He got up and disappeared into the kitchen.

“I didn’t kill Detective Simmons last night.”

“Then who did? My partner was an eyewitness.”

“They have Samantha Mason, your partner’s wife,” Sarah said, her voice soft. This was going to be a calm conversation. She needed Diner on her side, or Diner wouldn’t be leaving the apartment until everything was finished in Toronto.

“Who has Samantha?” Diner asked.

“Your partner Niles fucked up and they’re making him pay for it.”

Diner’s attention was locked on Sarah.

“Fucked up?” she asked. “How?”

“He saw Vanessa Simmons with them and let her out the back door of the warehouse. They lifted his fingerprints off the door’s knob. Beyond that, I have no idea where this warehouse is yet or who is involved, but I’ll know soon.”

“What?” Diner looked completely perplexed.

The kettle in the kitchen had reached a high pitch. Then the grinder started up as Aaron ground the coffee beans for the French press. Sarah waited so she didn’t have to compete with the noise coming out of the kitchen. The grinder stopped, the kettle beeped and the noise diminished.

“I’m not entirely sure yet,” Sarah said.

“About what?” Diner adjusted herself on the sofa. “Am I getting any of that coffee?”

Sarah shook her head. “You’re not coming out of those cuffs until I’m satisfied you’re on our side.”

An exasperated puff of air blew out of Diner’s mouth. “I figure preaching to you about all the laws you’re breaking right now wouldn’t matter.”

Sarah shook her head. “It would only matter if I cared. The bad guys never worry about your laws. The only way to catch them or stop them is to not play by the rules. Now, to get coffee, you have to be on our side. Interested?”