by Jan Springer
“It was your cover. You had to make it look good,” Garry replied soothingly. “You were doing it for a good cause.”
Tom knew Garry was only trying to make him feel better. But it wasn’t working. The more Garry revealed about his past, the less he liked himself. He wondered if Sara was having the same feeling, too.
Suddenly Jo’s cell phone rang and she jumped up with excitement flashing in her eyes. “I’ll take it inside. Anyone for more coffee and donuts?” she asked.
There was a round of no’s.
Tom waited until Jo went inside before he asked the big question. “You said six years ago I changed into a suicidal cop. And then a year later I went undercover. So I’ve been investigating one man for five years and have come up with nothing? Either this guy is good or something else was going down. And I take it, it’s the latter?”
Garry’s eyes lit up and he leaned his arms on the wheelchair’s armrests. “It started with investigating the chief but you kept digging up more and more crooked cops.
“Robin and our source figured you should stay under until you’d gathered enough evidence on every single one of the bad apples.”
Tom frowned. Robin and the source figured? Had he himself had a say in this crusade? Why did the feelings of dislike for this job suddenly begin to grow?
“Who is this source?”
“This source led you to questionable cases by anonymous tips.”
“Anonymous tips?” Sara asked the question before Tom could.
“That’s right,” Garry answered. He turned to Tom. “That’s what is so strange about this case. Robin told me you received anonymous tips from two sources. One a man. The other was a woman. We found the woman. She admitted to being your tipper and she gave Jo the low-down of what you were doing. She also told Jo there was no way you could be responsible for murdering my brother. She’d never met you personally, but Robin thought very highly of you. Apparently you two grew to be best friends. When we got here and saw you heading to the barn we still had to be careful. We had no way of knowing if you’d turned bad. Another reason why you’d better get your memory back.”
“You spoke to this woman?” Tom squirmed with excitement.
“Actually Jo spoke to her in person. A pretty brunette. But she wishes to remain anonymous. So she only spoke to Jo. From the looks of it, this woman is important.”
Sara broke in. “Why do you say that, Garry?”
“When we went to pay her a visit at a prearranged meeting place, we were surrounded by armed guards. She had one hell of a security system. I tell you, I was impressed.”
By the increased pounding of his headache, Tom knew he was venturing into dangerous territory by asking more questions. But he needed to know. “What did she say? Any ideas as to why she wants to remain anonymous? Why the big secrecy?”
“Like I said Jo hasn’t revealed the woman’s identity. Being a P.I., she takes her job very seriously. If she knows who the woman is and breaks her anonymity, it would hurt Jo’s reputation. No one would trust her anymore. You can understand that, right?”
Tom nodded. He could understand it all too well. It didn’t mean he had to like it.
Garry continued. “I can only venture a guess as to who the woman is. Like I said, she was surrounded by guards and a hell of a security system. She must have access to some important government stuff. Jo found her by calling in a bunch of favors. She was given a Washington phone number along with the name TURDUS. Both you and Robin it appears were working for her.”
“What the hell did we get ourselves into?” Tom wondered aloud.
“Wondering the same thing myself.” Garry frowned. “Looks like we may never know. But the woman did mention a couple of cases you were investigating.”
Tom’s curiosity began to pique again. “Go on.”
“One is a five year old case. A raid instigated against a crack house. A very large amount of heroine was confiscated. Worth millions of dollars on the street. The drugs were put into police storage, and tagged to be destroyed.
“Checking the police records, you uncovered something interesting. There was no record of police storage ever receiving that shipment of drugs.”
“But how can that be? A big raid like that must have been in the papers. No one can just go in and walk out with drugs?” Sara replied.
Something clicked. “It was an inside job. Someone with authority. There were no witnesses at the crack house. The three dealers had been killed in the raid. Hence no trial. No evidence needed. Clever.”
“So you remember?” Garry asked hopefully. His eyes shining with anticipation.
“When you tell me. I can’t seem to retrieve it on my own. What’s the tie-in to this recent case?”
“I didn’t say it was recent.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. You’re right. It is a recent case.” Garry smiled his encouragement.
Tom nodded solemnly. He didn’t know if he should be excited or scared. But by the frown on Sara’s face, she was experiencing the latter. Garry continued. “A few weeks back, another raid was instigated against a ship about to leave port in the New York harbor. A sting against a well-known arms dealer. The cops retrieved over a ton of weapons. You name it they had it. Uzis. .38s. Whatever your wish. Again the boat was practically empty of people except for one man. The notorious arms dealer Scout McMaster was supposedly killed in the raid. Hence again, no trial. No records of any weapons. Same scenario as the case five years ago.”
“Supposedly killed?” Sara asked.
“I say supposedly because word somehow got leaked on the street it was the arms dealer who tipped off the cops about his own shipment. He’d already sold the guns to the Iranians. Had the money in his pocket.”
“Bad move from the Iranians point of view,” Sara stated.
Tom smiled knowingly. “Bad deals are made every day. It only needs one weak link to screw things up. Money passing too quickly always leads to trouble.”
Garry nodded in agreement then continued. “Story has it, a high-ranking cop in your precinct faked the dealer’s death. The crook threw the cop in for an undisclosed amount. Robin said you were working on finding out if there was any truth to this.”
Nothing came to Tom’s mind. Just an annoying throbbing in his temples. “Sorry, I’m drawing a blank. Give me the name of the top brass.”
“Top guy’s nickname is Whitey. He’s the chief of police you’re investigating.” Garry’s voice grew softer. “And there’s something else you should know before I go any farther. His daughter is your wife.”
“Wife?” Sara choked.
Tom drew in a sharp breath. It felt like he’d been socked in the stomach. He understood Sara’s reaction.
“You married her last month. She’s a homicide detective in your precinct. She’s the other witness who saw you kill my brother. Robin said the marriage happened quickly and unexpectedly. Says you two flew down to Vegas over a weekend.
“Apparently, you got plastered down there and couldn’t remember getting hitched. Needless to say, my brother was quite shocked about it and apparently so were you. I say apparently because we have no way of knowing if you were lying to Robin. Maybe you got hitched with the woman because you truly loved her and wanted to get access to her dad’s money. You do understand why we reacted the way we did when we first saw you?” There seemed to be an apology in there somewhere and Tom couldn’t help but be a little hopeful again about the situation he was in.
Unfortunately the story about him being married seemed unbelievable. Like some kind of nightmare he couldn’t wake up from. And by the devastated look on Sara’s face, she was experiencing the same gut-wrenching sorrow for their relationship.
Jo appeared at the door. “Garry? Can I talk to you?”
Garry turned in his chair. “I’ll be right in.”
He turned to the silent couple. “I’m sorry, but I figured you both should know about the marriage. I’ll leave you two alone.”
&nbs
p; He threw them what Tom figured to be a reassuring smile. But he didn’t feel reassured.
Garry said he was married. To a woman he didn’t even remember. He felt as if his whole world had just been blown to smithereens.
Chapter Sixteen
Sara and Tom sat in silence for quite a long time after Garry wheeled himself inside. Both peered out across the parking lot at the cool forest. Both pondering the horrible bomb Garry had dropped. Finally, Sara gathered enough courage to speak.
“It’ s an enormous amount of information for one person to take in all at once.”
The dark, shocked look on Tom’s face instantly dissolved and he swung his hurt gaze directly on her.
“Especially the part about me being married,” he replied softly.
Sara nodded as she fought back the sudden swell of tears. Tom was married. One of her worst nightmares had come true. Even if they somehow got out of this mess, he was married. He would leave her for the other woman.
God, it hurt. Hurt so bad.
She bit her lower lip in frustration preventing the anguished cry to escape her throat.
“I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.” His shoulders sagged in defeat.
Sara reached out to lightly touch his arm.
“Don’t beat yourself over it. We’re both adults. We knew what we were doing. No strings. Remember?”
He nodded solemnly.
Love wasn’t a chance she had wanted to take again and now she knew why. Dammit. Her heart was breaking all over again.
“Whether I am married or not, Sara, you are someone very special to me. Very special,” his whispered cry ripped through her heart.
In a flurry of movement, he pulled her into his strong arms, caressing the tears flooding a hot trail along her cheeks. “I love you. I love you more than my life itself.”
A violent shudder shot through her and she buried her face against his warm neck. “I believe you. I truly do. I was happy for a while. I’d almost forgotten what it felt like. For that I’m thankful to you.”
His arms tightened around her waist. When she looked into his eyes, she saw tears glistening there. Painful tears of what they had shared and what might have been.
They sat that way for a long time. Wrapped in each other’s arms. Hearts beating in unison. Neither wanting to break their embrace.
They were interrupted by the screen door creaking open and Garry clearing his throat. Tom and Sara slowly drew apart.
“Sorry,” Garry mumbled uncomfortably. “There’s not much time. We have to leave again. Please, Sara, fetch me all the evidence. Everything including the gun he arrived with. I need to speak to Tom.”
With great hesitation, Tom let Sara’s hand go and casting him a longing look she finally went in search of the evidence.
“How are we going to do this?” Tom asked tightly when Sara was out of earshot. “About me, I mean?”
“I’ve been thinking on that. Change of plans. I want you to stay here with Sara. Keep a damn good low profile. Stay in one of the cabins out in the woods if you have to. Stay indoors. Stay out of sight. Don’t turn on any lights at night. You know the drill.”
“Sara has to come with you. I want her safe.”
Garry continued as if he hadn’t heard him. “I want us to keep this hush for as long as possible. I’d get you to a safe house, but I don’t know whom to trust. It would be risky. Can’t take the chance that some cop would recognize you. You’re face isn’t all over the police computers yet and the story hasn’t hit the press, but it is just a matter of time. Whitey must have some pretty good connections keeping this suppressed. I guess that’s to our advantage. Anyway, I’d like you to stay put. Heck, it’s risky asking you to stay here, but I need you by a phone. I may need to get a hold of you at a moment’s notice.” Tom’s mind reeled as he tried to take everything in. Somehow, Garry believed him innocent. The relief was almost too much to bear.
Garry continued quickly, efficiently. If he noticed the shock on Tom’s face, he didn’t seem to pay attention. “And Jo got us an appointment with Ballistics tonight.
“Bullets have a way of telling the story. I just hope Ballistics will find something. Anyways, I’ve got to find someone trustworthy to retrieve Blake’s body and Jo has to talk to the judge about getting protection for you.”
“Are you sure about all this? About me staying here? Aren’t you afraid I’ll run?”
“You didn’t run earlier when I gave you and Sara the chance.”
Tom nodded still numb with disbelief at the turn of events.
“And I want you to keep trying to remember everything that happened. I’m putting my faith in you. Don’t let me down.”
Tom smiled uneasily. A lump clogged his throat.
“I’ll try not to, sir.”
“Don’t try. Do it!” Garry demanded sharply.
Sara returned, and handed Garry the paper bag where all the evidence was located. Tom felt a whole hell of a lot better when she slipped her velvety hand into his trembling palm and clenched it tightly.
He watched as Garry put on a pair of rubber gloves and began placing the evidence into clear plastic evidence bags he produced from a small plastic box sitting on his lap. It seemed the man came well prepared.
Suddenly the note sailed into a bag and something clicked.
“Wait! The note! How the hell did I forget what was on the note!”
Both Sara and Garry looked at him as if he’d completely gone off the deep end.
“The note! Garry, the note!” he sputtered excitedly. “The numbers on the note. There are two numbers on the note.”
Garry frowned as he fished the paper back out of the plastic bag. He read it and shook his head slowly. He turned it over.
“No, I’m sorry there are no numbers.”
He’d been so delirious and tired that night. Had he imagined the numbers?
Tom plucked the piece of paper from Garry’s hands. “Here. Right here. See! This ink spot! It used to have the number twenty-eight, right here. And then the rain came.”
“Twenty-eight?” Garry shrugged his shoulders. And then as if a bright light switched on in Garry’s eyes he let out a shrieking whoop of joy.
Both Tom and Sara jumped with shock at the sudden earsplitting outburst. In a split second, Jo burst through the screen door. Her gun was drawn, her forget-me-not blue eyes bigger than saucers.
After assessing the situation, she quickly slipped her gun back into her shoulder holster. With a sheepish smile she asked, “What in the world is going on here?”
“Tom may have just handed us the case on a silver platter.” Garry laughed.
“I gather the numbers mean something?” Sara asked excitedly.
“When Robin and I were in the police academy we shared a locker. Number twenty-eight. The academy has been abandoned for years. That’s where all the evidence must be. But the key? Where’s the key?” Garry grabbed at Tom’s key chain and sifted through the keys. “Not here. Dammit!”
Then Garry squirmed excitedly in his wheelchair. “I think I might still have mine. In the basement, in my footlocker. Jo, would you go look? It’s at the bottom in a small red metal container.”
Jo nodded and took off.
Garry turned to Tom and Sara. “Sara, you’re coming with us.”
“Wait a minute! Go with you? But what about Tom?”
“He’s staying here, alone.”
She cast Tom a confused look and then a look of sudden understanding crossed Sara’s face. It was a fascinating sight.
“I’m staying here with him.”
“I’m sorry, Sara. It’s too dangerous for you to stay here,” Garry replied.
“Then it’s too dangerous for him, too!”
Tom frowned as he noticed the defiant, stubborn look fly into her eyes.
“It’s okay, Sara. I’ll be fine here. I want you safe with Garry and Jo.”
Sara whirled on him, determination blazing in her eyes. “You are not staying here by yourself.
If anyone comes looking, they’ll see me here and think nothing is out of the ordinary. Besides if it comes right down to it I know places I can hide you.”
“You have got a point there, Sara,” Garry mused. To Tom’s irritation, the defense lawyer shrugged his shoulders as if saying to Tom it was useless to even attempt to argue with her. “All right. I’ll leave it up to Tom.”
“Fine, then I’m staying,” Sara said before he could so much as launch a protest.
“You both stay. If Justin had figured out who you were, he would have tried something by now. I’ll send Jo back as soon as possible. Maybe late tonight. More likely early in the morning.”
“Where are you going?” Sara asked.
“New York. To get the evidence in that locker.”
“Found it,” Jo interrupted with excitement as she burst up the stairs and held up an old rusty key.
“Excellent. Jo, Sara and Tom will be staying. I’ll brief you in the car. Time to go.”
A surprised look flittered across Jo’s features quickly followed by a somewhat shaky smile. She quickly wrapped her arms around Sara and gave her a warm hug and a big kiss.
“Take care of yourself, Sara. And watch out for this one, will you?” She winked at Tom, then removed her gun from the shoulder holster and handed it to him. It was the greatest compliment he could ever have asked for.
“Take this. You never know when it’ll come in handy.”
He accepted the gun gratefully and relished the ice-cold silky feel as it slid so smoothly into the palm of his hand. Control surged through him.
“Thanks,” he said.
“C’mere, Sara,” Garry ordered.
Sara bent down and Garry wrapped his arms around her and gave her a bear hug.
Then Garry extended his hand to Tom and they shook. “Take good care of her.”
“Don’t worry, sir. I won’t let anything happen.”
Garry nodded as if he approved of the answer.
“Watch your backs.” He warned again as he wheeled his chair down the ramp toward the cherry red Mustang in the parking lot, the evidence bag nestled snugly in his lap.
Jo quickly followed.
—