Peppermint Creek Inn

by Jan Springer

  Tom studied his frustrated features. Tightly clenched jaw, shaking hands and bright blue eyes that held loads of pain.

  “So why do you want Blake’s gun so badly?” he asked Garry.

  Garry didn’t say anything. He appeared deep in thought.

  “I don’t know where the gun is,” Tom admitted after a moment. Garry’s shoulders slumped in defeat.

  “Sara knows though,” Tom volunteered.

  “Good, good,” Garry said in a satisfied tone. “So, did you kill my brother?”

  The words struck Tom as if he’d been slapped in the face.

  “Honestly?” He shook his head slowly as he remembered the sound of crashing glass, and the blood. So much blood.

  “Honesty is the best policy, pup.”

  “I really don’t know.” But I’m having some awfully bad flashbacks, he silently added.

  Tom cleared his throat, took a deep breath and finally asked the question. “You said earlier I’m a cop. What’s my name?”

  “I’ll tell you later. Right now I want you to tell me everything you remember,” Garry said as he struggled off the bed and into the wheelchair.

  Wheeling over to a desk by the window he picked up a notepad. “And I want you to start on what you remember from your first visit to Jackfish.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Sara, that was a good lunch. As always.” Garry patted his swollen belly and leaned back against his wheelchair as they all sat in the living room. “You’re a good cook. Isn’t she a good cook?”

  Everyone turned to look at Tom including Sara who eagerly awaited his response.

  “Yes, she is. She’s good at anything she does.” He smiled at the blush creeping into her cheeks.

  Apparently noticing Sara’s sudden rosy complexion, Jo came to her rescue. She stood up suddenly. “Well on that note, I’ll help Sara with the dishes.”

  “Forget the dishes. I need to speak with both Sara and—” he studied Tom for a moment then said “—and Tom.”

  “Then if you’ll all excuse me, I’ve some phone calls to make.”

  Tom stiffened and Sara jumped from the sofa grabbing Jo’s arm in desperation. “You’re not going to tell anyone he’s here, are you?”

  “Don’t worry. I won’t call the authorities without letting you know first, sis. Just answer all of Garry’s questions as best as you can,” Jo said then cast Garry a quick glance. “I’ll be out on the porch.”

  Garry waited for Jo to leave before taking a notebook out of his back pocket. He flipped it open and set it upon the coffee table.

  Tom cast Sara an encouraging smile that seemed to do little to settle her unraveling nerves. Her fists remained clenched—anxiety tinged her beautiful eyes. Soon Garry and Jo would have little choice but to turn him into the authorities. And they’d most likely never see each other again.

  Dammit, why did this have to happen? Why couldn’t he have met Sara in some other way? Maybe in town or maybe if he’d come as a tourist to the Peppermint Creek Inn or—

  “Sara, I want you to tell me everything. Start with the night Tom arrived. Don’t leave out any details.”

  And so Sara explained when she’d first met Tom, wild-eyed and desperate standing in her doorway. And how he’d saved her life when the beech tree had come crashing down on the front veranda. As her story unfolded, fresh memories of last night washed over him.

  He remembered the soft, silky walls of her warm cunt welcoming his cock as he slid into her. Remembered how sweetly she’d cried out every time she’d climaxed. Sometime in the early rays of dawn, they’d stopped making love and he didn’t recall when they’d fallen asleep.

  He had to force himself to look away from her in order to squash the rising sensations those memories created.

  “Money?” Garry’s questioning thoughts broke into his thoughts. Garry’s expression changed to one of dark fury. “How much money?”

  “Ten thousand. U.S.,” Tom stated firmly. “What gives?”

  “That’s the same amount of money deposited from an untraceable source and then withdrawn from Robin’s bank account the day of his murder.”

  He didn’t like the tone of Garry’s voice. His heart crashed against his ribs with such fury he thought it would leap out. His throat went dry and his headache, which had eased a good bit, toned back in again. For a little while he thought he’d found an ally in Garry.

  After he’d spilled his guts to the old man, Garry had removed the handcuffs leading Tom to believe he would be trusted. But now he realized Garry still had his doubts. He cursed himself for being a fool and getting his hopes up.

  He shouldn’t have trusted this old timer. He should have been figuring out a way to escape instead of allowing his guard down and becoming comfortable in his presence. Garry leaned back in his wheelchair, cradling the steaming cup of black coffee in one hand and fiddling with a pen in his other. The old man studied Tom quietly for a moment then asked softly, “Do you remember how you came across the ten grand?”

  There was something in the softness of Garry’s voice that brought flashes to Tom’s mind. Flashes of a small, cozy living room.

  A beautiful wildlife portrait of a raccoon sitting on a tree stump. A feeling of peace and happiness. In a split second, it died with the shattering of glass and the gut-wrenching blast of a gunshot.

  He suddenly grew very uncomfortable in his chair and ran a trembling hand through his hair.

  “I-I don’t know. I mean… Some things. A living room with a dark blue pull-out sofa, nice wildlife paintings on the wall.”

  Tom shook his head numbly and shrugged. “I can’t remember anything else,” he lied.

  He cast Sara a nervous glance and in turn, she threw him an encouraging smile, squeezing his hand in reassurance. Then he made the fatal mistake of turning to face Garry again. A mysterious gleam twinkled in his eyes and Tom knew instantly Garry was up to something and he wasn’t going to like it. Garry didn’t disappoint him.

  “Does the name TURDUS mean anything to you?”

  The urge to run hit Tom full force. He barely heard Sara gasp as the room began a slow spin. The woodpeckers crashed through his skull and he grabbed at the table to prevent from falling.

  “Leave him be, Sara. He’ll be all right. Just give him a minute.”

  He noticed movement beside him but he was unable to stop his mind from leaving the room.

  “Oh, God!” The words ripped from his throat as he saw an old man lying facedown on the carpet. A large pool of crimson flowing into the light sky blue carpet.

  “What do you see, pup?” Garry’s voice sounded gentle and yet it sounded like Robin’s voice. He couldn’t be sure who was talking. Confusion stunned him.

  The voice sounded so far away and yet it was right beside him. Insistent. Urgent.

  He looked down at his hands. They were covered in blood. Wet. Sticky. Shaky. Then his gaze swooped over to the old man. He lay in a fetal position.

  He reached out and turned the man over. A strangled cry caught in his throat. Robin! His best friend. Half his jaw had been blown away. Oh, God! He was still alive! And he was trying to tell him something.

  Tom leaned closer. He didn’t miss the tooth lying on the carpet as he tried to concentrate on what Robin was saying.

  “Uney. un,” Robin gurgled. With trembling fingers, Robin lifted his hand to point at the briefcase lying on the floor in the hallway.

  “I understand. I understand,” Tom whispered. He grabbed onto Robin’s cold hand and held tight. “I understand.”

  “It’s okay, Tom,” Sara’s voice. Tom grabbed onto her voice as if it were his lifeline and he flew back to reality. Shaken, spent and sweating he shivered as the cold sweat ran down his back in icy rivulets.

  “TURDUS is the Latin name for Robin. It was his undercover name.” Tom breathed harshly. Anger coursed through his veins. He didn’t want to remember what had happened to his good buddy. He just wanted to forget. “The money was for me. To keep me safe for a
while.”

  Garry chuckled lightly. Tom almost decked him but Sara’s gentle voice reined him in.

  “It’s going to be okay. It’ll be all right,” she soothed. Her warm arms circled around his neck and he found himself gazing into the deep, hot pools of chocolate brown. He began relaxing against her wonderfully soft frame, but before he could fully settle down, Sara pulled her arms away. Thankfully, she held his hand and remained close.

  “Seems you’ve remembered something. Now I’ll give you something else.” Tom wished Garry would just shut up and go away but the old man continued. “A week before he died, I received a call from my brother. We were supposed to go down to Florida on our annual fishing trip.”

  Garry stopped for a moment, took a shaky breath, and plunged ahead all the while Tom’s mind kept screaming at him to stop. He didn’t want to hear anymore. He couldn’t handle it. But he drew from Sara’s strength and sat stiff as a board forcing himself to listen to Garry.

  “Anyway, he told me he wasn’t going to make the trip. Something had come up. Naturally, my lawyer instincts smelled something fishy, so I asked him for some details. He told me he was helping a friend with a case. He told me to keep everything under my hat. Which I did. Until now.”

  “What case?” Sara asked curiously. Tom wished she hadn’t asked.

  “He said it was one of the biggest cover-ups involving a New York precinct. Cops involved with frame-ups. Messing with evidence. Evidence mysteriously vanishing.”

  “Tom’s a police officer?” Sara asked in a stunned gasp.

  Tom ripped himself free from Sara’s warm embrace and abruptly stood up. “Yes it looks like I’m a damned cop,” he said coldly. He’d had enough. “I’d be grateful if you didn’t say anything else.”

  Garry nodded then warned, “Your past is catching up with you fast, pup. And you better deal with it now or it’s going to run right over you.”

  Tom turned to Sara and attempted a weak smile.

  “I need some fresh air. I could use some company.”

  —

  An hour later, Sara and Tom stood on the high cliff overlooking the tiny meadow sprinkled with forget-me-nots and the small family graveyard.

  “Why don’t we just run? Not go back. We can follow the train tracks back to the highway. We can hitchhike. Maybe go to Alaska? We could be free.”

  “If we run, we’ll be running for the rest of our lives. That’s no kind of freedom. It’s not a life I want for you, Sara. Besides, I can’t abandon Garry now. He uncuffed me for a reason. He’s put his trust in me to help him. Someone killed his brother. It’s up to me to remember if I did it or not. And if I didn’t do it, then I was there when it happened and I must know who did.”

  Sara sighed with defeat, all her strength flowing out of her at the determined look in his eyes. So final. There was no changing his mind. He would go back. And he might even end up in jail.

  Hot tears trickled down her cheeks and her hand tightened around his. Her heart wouldn’t let him go. Not now. Not ever.

  Her eyes flittered over the treetops of the giant jack pines and rested upon the meadow with the forget-me-nots. Whenever she came here, she would remember Tom.

  She hated her next words but she knew he needed to hear them. “It’s up to you. Whatever you decide, I’ll support your decision. Even if I don’t agree with it.”

  He looked at her, smiled that crooked smile of his and Sara melted against him. She wanted to savor this moment, to remember this wonderful view with the man of her dreams.

  “Are you okay?” he asked gently.

  Sara bit her lip, and then attempted a halfhearted smile. “I’m okay.”

  He took her into his strong arms and they stood silently watching a couple of loons fly past.

  After a few moments, he broke the tranquility. “Are you ready for what’s going to happen next?”

  Sara frowned. “No. I’ll never be ready.”

  “You’re going to have to. Chances are there that we’ll spend the rest of our lives separated from each other.”

  “I don’t want to hear this.”

  “You have to hear this, just like I have to go back and hear the rest of what Garry has to tell me. He knows stuff about my past. I don’t want to hear it but I have to…and I want you to promise me something… If things don’t work out, I want you to forget about me and go on with your life. I don’t want you visiting me in prison and tied to me for the rest of your life.”

  “God, are you insane? I could never forget you. Don’t even tell me to. Besides if Jo’s hunches pay off, we won’t have to worry too long.”

  He frowned, his eyes narrowed with puzzlement. “What are you talking about? What does Jo know?”

  “She says you’re the key. If you remember what happened that night. She can help us.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Sara noticed the tiny glimmer of hope flash in his emerald eyes. The same hope that kept her going. “I don’t think she believes the witnesses. From what I understand, neither does Garry.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”

  “You never asked.”

  Tom swore softly, smiled and kissed her. His warm lips slid seductively over hers until she had to grab onto his arms to keep from falling over. It was the most explosive kiss she’d experienced to date and it flew all the way down into her feet to curl her toes.

  “Sorry to interrupt you two.”

  They whirled around to find Jo standing not more than ten feet from them. “But Garry wants to talk to Tom again right away.”

  —

  Garry sat in his wheelchair on the front veranda, as the three of them climbed the stairs.

  “Let’s get down to business,” Garry said as they crowded around him. “Jo’s got an appointment with a judge friend of hers that she trusts. The judge might be able to keep a tight lid on this for awhile.”

  “She works fast,” Tom said as he threw Sara’s sister an amused grin.

  Jocelyn smiled. “I have friends in high places. What can I say?”

  In Tom’s excitement, he grabbed Sara’s hand and ignoring Garry’s frown, pulled her down onto the porch swing beside him.

  A moment later Sara asked the question Tom had been reluctant to ask. “Was Tom involved in the cover-ups you mentioned earlier?”

  Garry smiled sympathetically. “No, he was the undercover investigator.”

  “That explains the rat dumped through Sara’s window,” Tom replied.

  Garry’s bushy white eyebrows drew together, his frown deepened. “Sounds to me like he knew you were heading here. But you say he didn’t recognize you in town because rain was interfering with his vision?”

  “I don’t know. There was a split second I thought he might have recognized me. I figure if he had, he would have taken me down then.”

  “Maybe. Or maybe he was just waiting for reinforcements to show.”

  “The thought occurred to us, too. That’s why we were over at Jackfish, laying low and looking for clues,” Sara said.

  “Go on with this undercover stuff, Garry,” Tom urged. Now that things were looking up, he wanted to hear more about his past.

  Garry smiled, obviously pleased with his curiosity. “From what our source told Jo, up until six years ago you had a spotless record with the Billings, Montana police force.”

  Tom leaned forward, fully interested now. “Up until six years? What happened to change my record?”

  “One of your brothers committed suicide in jail.”

  Tom grimaced as the heart-wrenching feelings slithered into him. It had been a double whammy. The horror of seeing his mother wither away day after day under the endless pain of cancer had been brutal, then mere days later the shock of finding out his youngest brother Steve who, being an investigative journalist, had been thrown into jail for possession of drugs.

  Steve had denied it vehemently and his other brother Daniel, a prominent criminal defense lawyer had tried every angle to get their brothe
r out of jail. In the end, under suspicious circumstances, their brother had supposedly committed suicide in jail, his body mysteriously cremated before they were able to see him.

  Sara gave his hand a reassuring squeeze and he threw her a watery smile.

  “And your mother—”

  Tom threw up a hand to silence him. “I know. I remember that part.”

  Garry nodded. “Afterwards you became what they call a ‘suicidal cop’. Taking unnecessary chances with your life. Many of your coworkers refused to work with you because they feared for their own lives. So they let you work solo. Then my brother came into the picture and he asked you if you were interested in going undercover in New York City as a crooked cop. Robin had some connections that would enable you to start off in the same precinct where an investigation of the chief of police would take place. Robin told you he suspected the chief as being the one who had your brother Steve framed for drug possession.

  “The reason being he had refused to name a source about an investigation he was doing linking that chief of police in some way to a prominent doctor who was allegedly doing illegal organ transplants in various cities in the U.S. You were your brother’s source.”

  Tom blinked totally dumbstruck. “What?”

  “You came upon the information through one of your street guys. So you tipped off your brother. Apparently, he had a flair for getting to an impossible story. Somehow they found out he was doing some snooping, planted drugs on him and got rid of him in jail. You were hell-bent on revenge and accepted Robin’s offer to go in undercover. You started off by keeping up your suicidal rogue cop routine and slowly the chief took a serious interest in you and began using you. After awhile, you became his right arm man. Using the precinct as a cover, you worked for the chief full time. Does any of this ring any bells?”

  Tom shook his head slowly. “I don’t know. I can vaguely remember going off the deep end but after that…” Tom shrugged his shoulders. “I can’t seem to remember. I’ve had a lot of dreams though about buying and selling drugs, running plate checks for money, stuff like that. It’s all—illegal.”