Mint Juleps and Justice

by Nancy Naigle

  Mike put Von on the speakerphone as they briefed all team members on the plan and possible scenarios.

  “You’ve been busy. This sounds like a good plan. So my job is to just stall him while you all get into position, right?” Von confirmed.

  “Yes. Exactly. No plan is perfect, so I need you to take the precautions we talked about, just in case. When will you be here?”

  Von said, “I should be at your place in fifteen more minutes.”

  “Perfect. We’re all here. Just waiting on you and we can make the move.”

  “Mike. We’ll get her back. She’s the pawn. You’re the target. Be smart. It’s going to be all right.”

  “It has to be, Von. It has to be.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  Brooke struggled to move. Even in her woozy state, she knew something wasn’t right.

  “You’re awake.” A low, muted voice came from behind her.

  She gulped down breaths as the whisper sent a chill down her neck. She wiggled fingers and toes and seemed to be in one piece but that was all the range of motion she had. The agonizing pain throbbing in her skull made it hard to focus.

  Was the voice familiar? Keith? She was too groggy to be sure. She let her eyes close again.

  Someone grabbed her shoulder, shaking her back to reality. “Hey, don’t doze back off. You want to be awake for this. It’s almost show time.”

  Almost time for what? Where am I? Aside from the two stair steps in front of her, she could only make out trees and overgrown brush through the foggy vision. Why was she tied down? Was she on a stretcher in the ambulance again? Mosquitoes buzzed loudly and itchy bites were already swelling.

  None of the pieces fit.

  She tried to call out for help, but all that came out was a moan. A puff of air came from behind her, followed by a length of fabric being slung across her face, between her lips, and tied around her neck. The knot pulled at her hair.

  Commotion from somewhere in front of her forced her to try to open her eyes again. Voices, maybe one or was it two? She struggled to stay conscious. Aware. Know her surroundings.

  The rustling in the bushes stopped and it got very quiet.

  For what seemed like a long time, there was nothing.

  In the brush about fifty feet in front of her, the crunch of leaves signaled something or someone’s approach. Either way, animal or man, it wasn’t likely to be a good thing. It was getting dark. It could be a bear. She strained to listen, but the pounding of her heart and the increased rhythm of her breathing was making it hard to make sense of any of it.

  She tried to call out, but the cloth in her mouth muffled the noise she made. It wasn’t loud enough to summon help. The humidity hung in the air, and as the sky grew darker, the night sounds became louder. And as her mind began to clear, the darkness and deafening chirps and howls only sent her imagination racing.

  Just ahead, in a small clearing a large figure stepped out of the shadowy darkness. The fear of the unknown was quickly replaced with hope. The figure moved in the darkness, nearly colorless against the inky blackness, but she could make out the gait. A man in a Western hat moved slowly in her direction.

  Good guy or bad guy?

  A gunshot, too close for comfort, nearly sent her out of her skin.

  The man in black fell with a thud to the ground.

  She screamed, gulping for air and struggling to free her hands or pull up from the porch, but it was useless.

  “Scare you?” the muffled voice grunted from the bushes in front of the house.

  Brooke shook uncontrollably.

  “I got the message,” the man yelled toward the house as he began to get up.

  Brooke let the breath out that she had been holding. Mike? It was his voice, but she’d never seen him in a hat like that. Thank god, he was alive. He’d save her.

  “That you, Von?” the voice grumbled from the bushes, followed by a string of expletives.

  “It’s me, Goto.”

  The man standing in front of her might have said he was Von, but she knew the shape of his body even in the dark night. And his voice still tickled every nerve ending. There was no doubt it was him.

  “Step out here where I can see you.”

  Mike stepped out of the protection of the trees with his hands in the air, hoping Goto would show himself when he realized he wasn’t armed.

  “Where’s your partner in crime?”

  “He’s on his way, Goto,” Mike called out, praying Goto would buy that he was Von and buy them the time they needed to get everyone in place.

  Goto muttered under his breath.

  Mike took a hesitant step out into the lane. Playing like he was Von might have been a risky move, but he wasn’t putting anyone else in Goto’s crosshairs when he knew damn well that he was the target.

  Thank god, Rick and Von hadn’t given him a hassle about the plan he’d come up with. Not that there’d been much time for bantering around options. They all had the same goal in mind and Sheriff Calvin had his men on board too.

  Mike moved into position and now he had a clear view of the whole porch, and his heart nearly stopped when he saw Brooke was there—tied—just like Jackie had been. He prayed to God for the strength to hold it together. Stick to the plan.

  Mike tried to keep his voice emotionless. “Why don’t you let the girl go? She doesn’t have anything to do with this, Goto.” Mike stepped back into the cover of the trees. He needed to pull himself together, to keep from running out there and shredding the man limb from limb with his bare hands.

  Another shot rang out. The shot whizzed by his right ear, too close for comfort. He dove to the ground.

  “Hold it right there, Von,” yelled Goto. “What are you doing? Don’t move.”

  Mike threw his hands in the air, trying to get Goto to calm down. “It’s cool, man. Quit firing that damn thing. What do you want?”

  “Where’s Mike?”

  Mike prayed Goto wouldn’t come too close or he’d see him and the charade would be over. “I told you he’s on his way.”

  “You alone?”

  “No. I’m with you and Brooke, damn it. Why don’t you let Brooke go?” Mike said.

  The laugh was hearty and vile. “Oh, yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? That won’t be happening.”

  “Come on, man, let her go. You can put me on the porch and we can wait for Mike together,” Mike tried to reason with him, but he knew reasoning with a man like that wasn’t going to work. He got up and slowly took four strides forward. So far so good. “What do you say?”

  Another shot cracked loudly.

  Mike dove for cover in the shadows of the night. That last bullet was close again. Either this bastard was a lousy shot, or Mike was living under a helluva lucky star and he didn’t really want to know which. “Okay. I get the message. Go to hell.” And those were the words that would send the team into motion.

  Sweeping lights filled the lane, filling the darkness with a flood of bright white for a minute. Then an engine shut down and the lights dimmed, making it seem even darker than before.

  Goto snickered from the bushes. His excitement scared Brooke even more. He was taking pleasure in this and she wondered if they weren’t playing right into his plan.

  She prayed Goto wouldn’t figure out he was talking to Mike, and she prayed Mike had a foolproof plan or they’d all be dead.

  A door slammed.

  No. Whoever was getting ready to walk out was surely a dead man.

  Voices filled the air, amplified by a loudspeaker. “Police, drop it right there. Freeze.”

  Two shots fired off from the bushes right next to her, but there was no return fire.

  Another car slid across soft dirt to a stop somewhere out of her view.

  Suddenly lights came back on from every direction, bl
inding her and hopefully Goto in the process.

  But a flurry of shots came from Goto again.

  She spotted Mike in Von’s hat run down the side toward the house.

  “Who’s there?” Goto yelled from the bushes. “Where’s Mike?”

  “It’s me,” a voice came from just beyond the tree line.

  But Brooke knew she’d seen Mike run to the side of the house. Whatever plan they had going was in full swing, and Goto seemed to be buying it. So far.

  The voice that was supposedly Mike’s yelled from near the tree line again. “What have you done? You clipped an officer in all that wild shooting. He’s not breathing, man. That’ll put you away for a long time. Guess you’ve been missing your buddy, Rabbit, huh?”

  “Shut up.” Goto stepped out of the bushes, facing off with the man he thought was Mike. “Big deal—you should have come alone and they wouldn’t have had to die. They weren’t part of my plan. Afraid to fight your own battle?”

  “Let me call for help, Goto. You don’t want them to die,” the man impersonating Mike tried to reason with him.

  “What do I care? Just means a bigger hole to bury you all,” Goto screamed. “Can’t get convicted of killing someone if there ain’t no bodies. And they can’t convict me since they think I’m dead.”

  Brooke sensed the panic in Goto’s voice.

  “Who’d you kill to make us think you died? Who’d you plant your identification on?” The light from the moon reflected from the shiny handgun he held balanced in Goto’s direction.

  “Doesn’t matter. They believe it’s me. I’m free. Really free.” Goto said. “You might want to drop that gun. I got your girl on the step here. You know I won’t have any problem hurting her.”

  Brooke registered the escalating danger. She’d thought she was in danger with Keith, but now she was in far more danger than she’d ever considered. Mike had been right all along.

  Goto swung his flashlight in Brooke’s direction.

  She shrank back as the light shone brightly in her eyes. She squinted, unable to deflect or hide from the glare.

  Goto wiggled the light back and forth across her face, then yelled in Mike’s direction. “Say hello to your little friend. She looks kind of scared, don’t she?” Goto’s laugh was on the verge of hysteria.

  “Does that turn you on? It turns me on,” said Goto with a grunt.

  “Brooke. Stay calm, gal.”

  “Sorry, she’s a little tied up right now.” Goto guffawed, and then stepped up on the porch right next to her. “Drop that gun if you want to let her live a little longer.”

  When the light hit the man Goto thought was Mike, he had his head down. He had disarmed.

  Her heart sank. Surely they would die. There was no way for him to rescue her this time. I love you, Mike.

  “Walk forward.”

  He challenged Goto. “You come out here.”

  “I’m calling the shots. But don’t worry, this time I’m gonna let you watch it all. You won’t have to wonder what happened. You’ll know firsthand.”

  “Your beef is with me. Let her go.”

  “No, don’t you see? I want you to suffer.” He leaned over Brooke’s body.

  He was so close she could feel the heat off his body, and smell the beer on his breath, the stink of his body. Brooke screamed through the cloth of the gag.

  He pulled the rag from Brooke’s mouth, and then sliced the rope that held her neck to the porch column. She let out a cry and rolled over on the porch, hands and ankles still tied.

  Goto screamed out a loud whoop. “I’ve got years of suffering to repay you for. You are going to watch it all and know it was your fault. I want to strip you of all control just like you did me.” Goto stepped to the middle of the porch, and pulled on the plywood that hung across the front door. It fell with a loud clap. He pushed the front door open.

  Goto nudged her shoulder with the butt of the semiautomatic rifle. He grabbed Brooke by the roped wrists and dragged her to a standing position. He leaned his face into the back of her shoulder and neck.

  She dragged in a stuttered breath as the scrape of Goto’s unshaven chin and the heat of his breath against her skin made her sick; the bile rose in her throat.

  They needed Goto off the porch. He had to keep from moving in too close too quickly.

  Mike had edged his way quietly around the back side of the small house. The boards that once barricaded the back door had been pulled from the house. Goto must have been hiding out here planning this for a while. Mike stayed close to the building to avoid casting a shadow. He moved silently across the overgrown roadbed that circled this house, his home, at one time. His heart was heavy. Breathing and keeping focus was difficult with the past invading his thoughts.

  Mike stooped near the edge of the porch. He could see Brooke sniffing back tears. All he needed to do was get Goto in position to the left of the house or surprise and disarm him before then.

  Von was holding his own in the role reversal. Goto seemed none the wiser.

  Mike’s anger grew as Goto ran the butt of that rifle along her body. Brooke’s body looked limp and shaky even from this distance.

  “Calm down, Goto.”

  “Calm. Hell.” The crazy man’s laughter filled the dank air. “Things are just getting good.”

  The rope around Brooke’s ankles tightened as Goto tugged on it and dragged her to the doorway. He positioned her in the middle of the threshold.

  “Get down here, you shallow bastard,” yelled Von, still pretending to be Mike.

  Goto popped a fresh clip in the gun. His breathing was loud and heavy. He stood stone still, then made three quick leaps from the porch down the stairs, eyes focused on his prey.

  Von matched Goto step for step, trying to maneuver him away from the house like they’d planned. Mike lunged from his position next to the porch and grabbed Goto’s ankle, pulling him off-balance. Mike then jumped to his feet, dragged Goto by the sides of his shirt, and tossed him into a heap.

  Goto went down quick and hard, his breath jarring out of him and the gun unloading nearly every bit of ammunition in a sweeping arc across the entire area.

  It was just enough commotion for the rest of the team to move into position. Dark uniformed officers moved in from every direction of the house and surrounding area.

  Mike and Goto tussled and then there were further gunshots and neither man moved.

  “No!” Brooke screamed.

  Lights bounced off the house in red, white, and blues like a dizzying Fourth of July display. The first voice Brooke recognized was Sheriff Calvin’s.

  Blaring sirens were as disorienting as the blinking lights. People scurried around her. Police radio chatter filled the air with so much noise that it created a sensory overload.

  “Mike? No!” Brooke broke down into a heap. Gulping for air, and praying.

  Rick placed his arm on hers. “Do you know where you are?”

  She shook her head.

  “The house where Jackie and Mike lived,” Rick said. “Stay calm. The medics are here to check you out.”

  “But Mike. We have to help Mike.”

  Rick grabbed both of her hands. “Calm down. He’s okay.”

  “Don’t leave me,” Brooke cried out, but Rick had already run out toward a team of people. “I need Mike. He can’tbe…”

  Medics swarmed in and around Brooke. An oxygen mask was placed over her face and they checked her vitals. Her heart rate was frantic as she sobbed in relief over being released and the horror of seeing men die right in front of her. She sobbed, shaking her head and crying, “No…no…no…” between ragged breaths.

  A hand caught hers from the left side. When she turned, her eyes went wide as they connected with Mike’s. “Mike?”

  “I’m right here, Brooke.”

  She shook
her head and tried to pull the pieces together. “Mike? I thought…I thought…I saw you die.”

  “Brooke, no. I’m okay. I promise you. I’m so sorry for all of this. I never wanted to put you in harm’s way.”

  “You’re alive. You’re not…” She sobbed, reaching for him.

  He held her in his arms. “I thought I was going to lose you.”

  “Oh, my god. I thought I lost everything.”

  “I’m right here.”

  The medics stepped in, informing Mike that they were going to get the stretcher to take Brooke to the hospital to get checked out, and they would bring back the kit to take care of his shoulder, which was bleeding heavily.

  Mike nodded.

  “I don’t want to go to the hospital, Mike. Just take me home. I just want to be near you.

  “I love you.” He rocked her in his arms, tears in his own eyes. “I love you, Brooke.”

  They both jerked their heads to attention at the sound of someone yelling, coming toward them, “Hey…hey…Brooke? Mike?” It was Jenny and Rick.

  Rick stooped in front of them and held them both. “I can’t believe this.”

  Jenny reached for Brooke’s chin. “Your face looks like it’s burned.”

  Brooke nodded. “I think it’s a reaction to whatever he drugged me with. He put something over my face. All I remember is sitting on the porch swing at the farm house, then bam, the next thing I knew I was on this porch with one pounding headache. I’m a little dizzy and my head is killing me, but I think I’m in one piece.”

  Jenny clung to Rick. “He took you in Rick’s truck. Oh, Brooke. We were all so worried.”

  Sheriff Calvin walked over to them. “You don’t have to worry about him getting out this time.”

  “I didn’t think I had to worry last time.” Rick shook his head in disgust and spat on the ground.

  Sheriff Calvin repositioned his hat. “He’s dead.”

  “Dead?” Mike questioned, then looked to Rick and Von.

  Sheriff Calvin filled them in on the details he had so far. “We’re still pulling the evidence, but it appears it was his own bullet that did it. You should see the walls inside. He painted detailed murals on the walls of his plans. Sick.”