hard labor for dozens of years when I’m done with you.”
Chapter 4
The prison cell was cold and damp. Sarah knew this was all part of their goal to unsettle her by putting her in the farthest jail cell at the back of the building. It was the lowest spot in the building. The stone floor collected moisture like it was perpetually thirsty.
The single mattress was stained and smelled of urine but it was softer than the damp stone floor. She laid back on it and focused on not inhaling too much of the acidic odor.
I’ve been in worse places. This is a Holiday Inn compared to the shed with the hole in the ground I escaped from months ago.
She lifted her shirt up over her nose. Breathing got easier as the aroma in the room filtered through her own clean smell.
How long would this charade last?
If there was one thing Sarah had learned in the past, it was that things were not always as bad as they seemed. Something was up with that immigration officer. He had a bone to pick with her somehow. Whatever his problem was, he was the least of her worries.
Her family didn’t have the money for lawyers. If these Hungarians really wanted to throw the proverbial book at her, she didn’t know what she could do. Although, they would have to prove those charges…and - her status being what it was in the States - she was sure her embassy would get involved in any court action, if it ever got that far.
The problem was she actually had come all this way to find and kill Armond but she wasn’t sure how they knew that, or what intelligence they had to back it up.
Maybe this was an intervention. Sarah knew that it wasn’t who she was as a person. Her inner struggle since she’d been here was how could she pull the trigger? If she found Armond walking down the street, how could she just walk up and shoot him? She saved people. She helped people. Her goal was hope. Hope for the human race. Not murder.
Too lofty , she thought.
But that was why she had to kill Armond. To keep safe the other girls he would attack and kill. Sarah knew that a man like Armond would never stop. The recent debacle at the Mormon Compound would only slow him down.
Somewhere along the way, Sarah had to stop him.
A door opened down the hallway somewhere. She could hear multiple pairs of shoes echoing along the chamber.
No one talked.
Maybe she was getting a cell mate? With men you never know what they’ll deliver. She wouldn’t put it past them to give her a rapist for a cell mate and in the morning say sorry, they made a mistake. That kind of thing would fuck her over and keep their hands clean in the process. Then they’d have her for murder.
The rapist would be the one fucked over in this case .
As the footsteps neared she had gotten off the bed and edged back into the corner where a small amount of moisture had pooled into a tiny puddle.
Then a trio of men stepped into view.
All three she recognized. Imre the arresting detective, the immigration officer and her personal stalker: Officer Parkman.
He stood there with a half smile and a toothpick in his mouth.
“Are you serious?” Sarah asked.
Imre was reaching for keys but stopped. “What?”
Sarah continued to stare at Parkman. “All this way?”
Parkman shrugged his shoulders and tilted his head. “I know, I know.”
“All this way and you still eat those fucking toothpicks like they’re made of chocolate.”
Imre turned and looked at Parkman. “You fly from the States, take a leave of absence and vouch for her and all she has to say to you is something about your toothpick?”
Parkman turned to him. “You don’t know Sarah. This is her way of showing she’s happy to see me. If she wasn’t, she’d attack the bars trying to get at me. She’s quite the girl. I’ve never met a tougher person in my life. And that goes for cops. What she’s been
Chapter 4
The prison cell was cold and damp. Sarah knew this was all part of their goal to unsettle her by putting her in the farthest jail cell at the back of the building. It was the lowest spot in the building. The stone floor collected moisture like it was perpetually thirsty.
The single mattress was stained and smelled of urine but it was softer than the damp stone floor. She laid back on it and focused on not inhaling too much of the acidic odor.
I’ve been in worse places. This is a Holiday Inn compared to the shed with the hole in the ground I escaped from months ago.
She lifted her shirt up over her nose. Breathing got easier as the aroma in the room filtered through her own clean smell.
How long would this charade last?
If there was one thing Sarah had learned in the past, it was that things were not always as bad as they seemed. Something was up with that immigration officer. He had a bone to pick with her somehow. Whatever his problem was, he was the least of her worries.
Her family didn’t have the money for lawyers. If these Hungarians really wanted to throw the proverbial book at her, she didn’t know what she could do. Although, they would have to prove those charges…and - her status being what it was in the States - she was sure her embassy would get involved in any court action, if it ever got that far.
The problem was she actually had come all this way to find and kill Armond but she wasn’t sure how they knew that, or what intelligence they had to back it up.
Maybe this was an intervention. Sarah knew that it wasn’t who she was as a person. Her inner struggle since she’d been here was how could she pull the trigger? If she found Armond walking down the street, how could she just walk up and shoot him? She saved people. She helped people. Her goal was hope. Hope for the human race. Not murder.
Too lofty , she thought.
But that was why she had to kill Armond. To keep safe the other girls he would attack and kill. Sarah knew that a man like Armond would never stop. The recent debacle at the Mormon Compound would only slow him down.
Somewhere along the way, Sarah had to stop him.
A door opened down the hallway somewhere. She could hear multiple pairs of shoes echoing along the chamber.
No one talked.
Maybe she was getting a cell mate? With men you never know what they’ll deliver. She wouldn’t put it past them to give her a rapist for a cell mate and in the morning say sorry, they made a mistake. That kind of thing would fuck her over and keep their hands clean in the process. Then they’d have her for murder.
The rapist would be the one fucked over in this case .
As the footsteps neared she had gotten off the bed and edged back into the corner where a small amount of moisture had pooled into a tiny puddle.
Then a trio of men stepped into view.
All three she recognized. Imre the arresting detective, the immigration officer and her personal stalker: Officer Parkman.
He stood there with a half smile and a toothpick in his mouth.
“Are you serious?” Sarah asked.
Imre was reaching for keys but stopped. “What?”
Sarah continued to stare at Parkman. “All this way?”
Parkman shrugged his shoulders and tilted his head. “I know, I know.”
“All this way and you still eat those fucking toothpicks like they’re made of chocolate.”
Imre turned and looked at Parkman. “You fly from the States, take a leave of absence and vouch for her and all she has to say to you is something about your toothpick?”
Parkman turned to him. “You don’t know Sarah. This is her way of showing she’s happy to see me. If she wasn’t, she’d attack the bars trying to get at me. She’s quite the girl. I’ve never met a tougher person in my life. And that goes for cops. What she’s been
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