The Victim Read Online Free PDF Page A

get any.”
     
    Hank turned around and whispered into his lapel again.
     
    There had been something in his eyes, a flicker, a twitch. She was sure he was lying about something, but she had no idea what. She wondered if the local law enforcement really knew who she was and were no threat to her. Would Hank have given that information up so easily? She knew these Sophia Project men, and their reputation was subterfuge only. Hank would never tell the locals who she was. He would lie to serve his purpose.
     
    “What have you told the local authorities about me?” she asked.
     
    He spoke into his mic, ignoring her.
     
    Sarah scanned the area. Nothing was familiar. Average Canadian families walked around with shopping bags and babies in their arms, some pushing strollers with no idea what was about to happen at any moment.
     
    Across the labyrinth of tables and chairs, two men with white-powdered faces, wearing long black overcoats stared at her. She stared back trying to see if they were watching Hank and his men or her. When she was sure they were watching her, she looked left toward the sporting goods store to see if there were others watching her. A quick look to the right toward the rest of the small fast-food restaurants revealed nothing.
     
    When she looked for the two men in black overcoats, they were gone. Something about them disturbed her. She frantically searched the immediate area, but didn’t see them.
     
    Her hand numbed.
     
    Oh, no, not now, Vivian. I have nothing to write on.
     
    The numbness faded, pins and needles came and went. She flexed her hand and tried to calm her nerves.
     
    I know you’re with me. Thanks, Vivian.
     
    “Hank?” she called.
     
    He checked the time on his watch and then half-turned to her. “What?”
     
    “Are any of your men dressed in black overcoats?”
     
    He frowned, met the eyes of his guards and then brought his attention back to her. “No. Why do you ask?”
     
    “Nothing.”
     
    The two men weren’t just curious. The look in their eyes held intent. She’d seen it before. They were up to something and they weren’t part of Hank’s crew.
     
    Who are they? Rod Howley’s men?
     
    She hopped from one foot to the other. She would only get one chance at this. Her heart rate increased, adrenaline flowed. She flexed her arms and fingers and waited for Rod to show.
     
    “Hank?” Sarah said again.
     
    “What?” he said without turning around, an edge of agitation in his voice.
     
    “What if Rod calls at the last minute and sets a new place to meet? Or what if he doesn’t show at all?”
     
    “He’ll show. I’m not worried about that. I know him.”
     
    “Yeah, but he’ll know you have the place surrounded. Why would he willingly walk into the trap?”
     
    “Because he thinks he holds all the cards. We won’t move on him as long as he has Joan and once he gets you, he thinks we won’t move in on him.”
     
    “Why’s that?”
     
    Hank half-turned to her again. “Because he knows how good you are and doesn’t imagine that we would kill you. Yet. That’s where he’s wrong.”
     
    “Gee, thanks. Why am I helping you again?”
     
    “You’re not helping. You’re here because you have no other choice.”
     
    “I could kill you with my bare hands within three to five seconds. So I actually do think I have a choice …”
     
    “What did you just say?” a voice to her left asked.
     
    She looked into the eyes of a tall, dark-skinned man with a barrel chest. He towered over her by at least a foot.
     
    “Don’t worry about her, Detective Waller. She’s here to help the exchange take place.”
     
    He scowled down at Sarah. “It sounded like she just uttered a death threat.” His deep voice resonated through her. It was the kind of voice she envisioned her husband having one day. The kind that made her feel safe, protected and cherished.
     
    “She did,” Hank said. “She’s pissed off that she has to be here, but don’t