The Betrayal (A Sarah Roberts Thriller Book 20) by Jonas Saul

Author:Jonas Saul [Saul, Jonas]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Imagine Press Inc.
Published: 2018-05-30T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 27

WITHIN FIFTEEN MINUTES, Sarah had located her next target, which seemed to be getting easier. Vivian was in her head again, acting like a human GPS. She whispered which way to walk and how fast. On autopilot, robot-like, Sarah strode to her target as if she possessed psychic magnetism, drawn by a force not of this world, not of this plane.

In front of a liquor store, she stopped beside a man smoking against a wall.

“Got a smoke?” she asked.

“Fuck off,” he said.

She stepped in closer, out of the blazing sun so she didn’t have to squint when talking to him.

“Now that’s not very polite.”

“What part of fuck and off don’t you get?” the man said, pushing off the wall, his chest thrust out.

That posturing look, the peacock, the feathers, almost made her laugh. She knew this guy shied away from fights. He only acted tough. One bop on the nose and he’d drop to the ground like a sniveling baby.

Tomorrow he planned to rob the liquor store. Him and his heroin-addict friend. The heroin friend would get jumpy and stab one of the clerks. It would be a deep wound, severing an artery. People would die. And all because they wanted one more fix.

They would be caught later that night. Jail would be bad for them. Both men would die in prison. On the other hand, if he walked away, he would eventually kick the drug habit and lead a somewhat productive life.

As far as Vivian could see, that was how it was to play out.

“How about this?” Sarah said, leaning inches from his thrust-out chest. “You give me a smoke and I won’t tell anyone what you’re planning.”

“What?” he stammered, then looked left and right, as if cops were inbound. He met her gaze. “You don’t know shit, bitch.”

She held up her left hand, face height, for him to look at. Dutifully he did.

Then she bitch-slapped him with her right hand so hard his head bumped the wall behind him.

His knees bent slightly as his hand raced to his face. He moaned, and his eyes met hers.

“What was that for?” he asked.

“Don’t call me a bitch. Next time I’ll throat punch you.” She leaned closer still. “After that, I go for the balls. Then I cut you.”

“What the fuck, lady? Back off.”

He tried to shove her away, but she dodged his hand easily.

“Tomorrow,” she whispered, “when you walk in there,” she nodded toward the liquor store, “I’ll be waiting to kill you and your friend, Ernesto. You want that, Winters?”

His eyes widened, and he straightened up. “You know Ernesto? How do you know my name—what the fuck, man? Hey, how do you know my name?”

“Leave town, asshole. Rob that store tomorrow and you and Ernesto won’t make it out alive.”

“What are you, liquor store security or something?”

She eased back into the sunshine. “Something like that.”

She waited for Vivian’s confirmation. After a moment, she got it. He wouldn’t rob the store. In fact, he didn’t trust Ernesto anymore and wouldn’t take his calls later that night.

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