Peppermint Creek Inn

by Jan Springer

  Matt nearly jumped out of his skin when the patio door slid sideways and an older man stood in underwear and a white T-shirt, scratching his chin.

  “Hey, nice of you to drop in Briggsie.”

  Matt flinched at his nickname. He hated it. It reminded him of the days when he’d gone a little crazy and lived on the edge. Right after his mom and brother had died. His coworkers had promptly nicknamed him Briggsie, after a suicidal cop played by the actor Mel Gibson in a movie called Lethal Weapon.

  “Don’t call me that,” he hissed as he quickly pushed past Robin into the living room.

  “Come on in, Little Buddy,” Robin chuckled politely.

  “I’ve got to show you something, Robin. And for Christ sake close the door.”

  Matthew breathed a little sigh of relief when he heard Robin latch the patio door and redraw the drapes.

  His partner was smiling at him, his curious gaze raking the camcorder Matt held in his hand. “So? C’mon? What you got there? Why you look like the hounds of hell are at your heels?”

  Matt popped the tape out of his camcorder and handed it to Robin.

  “Rewind it,” he instructed.

  “Sit down, kiddo. Before you fall down,” Robin chuckled halfheartedly as he dropped the tiny tape into the specialized VCR tape, then slid it into the VCR, turned on the TV and pressed the rewind button.

  Matt did as his friend suggested and sat down on the dark blue sofa. Robin’s sudden intake of breath captured his attention. They watched the images flicker to life on the television screen. Neither said a word as the scenes unfolded. After about twenty minutes, the tape went blank.

  “Wow,” Robin whispered quietly. Disbelief etched his voice. Tiny beads of sweat burst out on his forehead. Matthew retrieved his tape and slid it back into the camcorder.

  “I can see why you’re so hyper, Briggsie. It’s not every day one finds out one’s wife is a criminal. It’s not as if it comes as a big shock. We’ve been suspecting this for awhile now.”

  “Any advice as to how we handle this?”

  “Just hold on and let me think. Let me think.” Robin stood up slowly, and stretched. Then he began pacing the living room floor. The familiar scratching on Robin’s chin soothed Matthew’s jangled nerves. It was a habit of Robin’s and a dead giveaway when he was formulating a plan.

  He watched his friend, eagerly awaiting his answer. The silence was never-ending. Finally Robin spoke. His voice sounded quiet. Almost too quiet.

  “This evidence will put you into grave danger.”

  “Thought crossed my mind.” He swallowed the tight knot of fear clogging his throat. His stomach literally turned over at his dear friend’s next words.

  “Didn’t know it would be Scout at the meeting.”

  Alarm bells rang in Matt’s head. “You knew about the meeting? How? I never told you.”

  Robin pressed his lips together. Tightly. As if he’d said something he shouldn’t have said. He chuckled nervously.

  Shit! What the hell was going on here?

  “Remember when you talked that depressive off the ledge?” He didn’t wait for Matt to answer as he continued. “That’s when you hit the evening news and caught my attention. I watched you crawl out on that ledge. Forty stories up. By golly you had guts, kid. If it was me, I’d have let the guy jump. But you acted as if he was your best friend and you didn’t have a care in the world. You got right out there, sat down beside him and offered him a smoke. Afterwards some witnesses told the news anchor lady you’d even offered to jump off the ledge with him. The jumper thought you were nuts.”

  Matthew frowned. “I was.”

  “I know, kid. I know,” Robin slowly nodded his head. “It was a bad time for you. The way you lost your mom and then your little brother.”

  “So answer my question, Rob. What gives? What did you know about tonight? Why didn’t you warn me? I thought we were in this thing together?”

  Robin didn’t answer his question. Instead, he plunged down memory lane again. “How about the time you got that anonymous tip about how something illegal was going down in the evidence room right then and there.”

  “Rob,” Matt warned. He didn’t like the way Robin was hedging his questions. Robin had never acted this way before.

  “You took off with your handy camcorder and recorded those two detectives sprinkling blood on a piece of clothing in evidence. Most cops might look the other way but you…” Robin chuckled. “You reported it to your supervisors. And were promptly blackballed for it.”

  Matthew shivered at the memory. “Those two cops came after me with a vengeance. I almost got my head blown off in the process. It’ll be worse this time around, Robin. And you still haven’t answered my question.”

  Robin smiled unpleasantly. “You don’t want to hear what I have to say, kid.”

  “Try me.” A shiver of unease crawled up Matthew’s spine. Maybe he should tell Robin to forget it. There was something odd about his behavior tonight. Robin never talked about the past. He was always set square in the present.

  “Back when we found you, you enjoyed living on the edge, taking chances with your life. We needed someone like you. Someone who wasn’t afraid to get his fingernails dirty.”

  “What do you mean by ‘we’? I thought it was just us two in this?”

  “That’s what I led you to believe.”

  “So, there’s another party involved. No big deal.” Matthew shrugged his shoulders as if he didn’t care. But he did care. His good friend had lied to him and it didn’t sit too good in the pit of his stomach.

  “Think about it, Matt.” Robin’s voice grew gentle. “I approached you shortly after you were ostracized by your peers for turning in your fellow officers.

  “I told you I suspected Chief Jeffries as having something to do with Steve’s death. I wanted to know if you’d help me bring him down by working undercover as a crooked cop. You said you wanted revenge against the man who killed your brother so you accepted my job. You picked up stakes and moved to New York City. We made up an entirely new identity for you. New name. New social security number. The works.”

  Matthew bowed his head as he remembered those hard days. Robin had been a knight in shining armor. Coming into his life at his lowest point. He would probably be dead by now. Gunned down by some crazy druggie, because a spiteful cop hadn’t covered his back.

  “I don’t understand where this is all going.”

  “Think about it, kid!” Robin snapped sharply. “The anonymous tips you’ve been getting all these years from that woman while working undercover?” He let the words dangle in front of Matt.

  “You knew the tippers? Is that what you’re saying?”

  “Dammit, kid! Do I have to spit it out to you? We’re not working on this alone. There’s others involved. High government people. F.B.I., C.I.A. People have been feeding you information so you can purposely get the other crooked cops before we brought down Jeffries. They were using you, Matt. And I was the first tipper. I sent you the first tip. The one about the two cops tampering with evidence. I’m the one that got this whole ball rolling.”

  Matt jolted. His mind reeled with disbelief. “You?”

  Suddenly the big picture was staring him straight in his face. And it hurt. Robin had sent Matt into the evidence room. Life had been tough before that day. After that day, life had turned into hell.

  “You used me? Set me up?”

  Robin said nothing as he bowed his head in apparent shame.

  “Coward!” Matt barely noticed Robin flinch at the word. “You hid behind me? You made me risk my life! Risk other people’s lives. Why have you betrayed me?”

  Robin remained silent.

  “Dammit, answer me!” he shouted angrily. “You’ve knifed me in the back, Rob. I can’t believe it. You! The only one I’ve trusted throughout this whole case. The only reason I hung around so long.” Matthew stopped to draw a shattered breath.

  “You feel better now, kid?”

&nb
sp; “Why are you telling me this? Why now?”

  “I promised myself I’d come clean with you when it was over. And with this evidence, it’s over.”

  “To hell with you, Robin! To hell with your goddamn job! I’m outta here!”

  Matt’s mind reeled as he turned toward the back door. He immediately sobered as a shadow passed by the drapes of the patio window beneath the porch light.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Sara’s mind whirled. What should she do? She couldn’t go after the woman. This man had a gun on her. But she had one on him, too.

  Should she shoot him? Hope her first shot was good enough to bring him down without him shooting her? What about the blonde? Would Tom hear the gunshots and rush headlong into a bullet from the woman’s gun?

  No, there had to be another way.

  It suddenly occurred to her she was being scrutinized by this man. It made her uneasy. He mustn’t pick up on her nervousness. She had to remain calm, cool and collected.

  But why was he staring at her like that? Smiling at her as if he’d put one over on her. He didn’t even look frightened. For all he knew she would put a bullet in his brain any second. So, why wasn’t he even the slightest bit intimidated by her gun?

  She had to get him scared. When people got scared they made mistakes. And when he made a mistake, she’d be ready.

  —

  “Were you seen?” Robin whispered as he watched the shadow move outside the patio doors.

  Matt closed his eyes and cursed sharply.

  Robin’s frown deepened. “Either you were or you weren’t, kiddo.”

  “I didn’t see anyone following.” He reached for his shoulder holster and withdrew his gun. “Rob, there is definitely someone out there.”

  “Oh, man, this is great. Just fucking great. They must have followed you. You’re losing your touch, Little Buddy.”

  Robin moved quickly, heading toward a writing desk in one corner of the living room. Matt knew that’s where Robin kept his gun.

  Along with the gun, he yanked out a notepad and began to scrawl something on it.

  “This is no time for an autograph, Robin,” Matt joked sarcastically as his fingers tightened around both the camcorder in one hand and his gun in the other hand.

  “C’mere,” Robin commanded.

  Matt edged over to Robin, keeping his eyes on the back patio door. Robin dropped his gun on a nearby table and grabbed a photograph shoving the picture in front of his face.

  “Take a good look at this. Memorize these two faces.”

  Matthew dared a glance at the photograph. Instantly, it gripped his full attention. He’d seen the picture many times.

  Five people. An elderly couple and a younger couple about his age, and another woman.

  Robin had once told him, the younger woman was the sister to the younger married woman. And he’d even hinted the younger sister wasn’t married. But Tom’s gaze always flew longingly to the married gal.

  Sara. Beautiful woman. Beautiful name. Robin had told him about her husband being murdered a couple years back. How she’d miscarried their children that same day. God, the pain and horror she must have gone through.

  Some days he ached to meet her. To talk to her. But the undercover life he’d pursued didn’t allow him such frivolous activities as to meet a good woman.

  “See these two people,” Robin pointed to his twin brother and Sara’s sister. “You can trust them.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Take the evidence to this place. Tell Sara I sent you.” Robin shoved the sheet of paper at Matthew. Matt juggled the camcorder and the gun in the same hand as he grabbed the sheet.

  Quickly he glanced at the address scrawled on the paper and then back at Robin. “Peppermint Creek Inn? Why go there?”

  “Just do it!” Robin hissed between gritted teeth. He shoved his hand into the desk drawer again and withdrew some keys.

  “Here. The keys to the inn. Sara might not be there. She goes on a lot of trips for her business. Hold up there until she shows. Tell her to contact my brother Garry and keep it as low-key as possible. Give Garry this note, he’ll know what to do with it. Here’s the barn key. Take a gander inside. There’s an old motorcycle you might want to tinker with. Used to be mine. And take that suitcase.” Robin pointed to the small suitcase on the floor beside the sofa.

  “You packed an overnight bag? How sweet.” Matt smirked.

  “Cut the crap, kid! There’s money in there for spending. Don’t use any credit cards. You’ll have to lay low for awhile. When it’s safe, I’ll contact you.”

  Apparently Robin had known tonight could be the last night. Why else had he packed a bag full of money? Robin slammed a heavy hand onto Matt’s back. “Looks like you’ll get to meet Sara after all, eh?”

  Suddenly a knock on the glass sliding doors ricocheted through the house.

  In a quick flash, Robin picked up the suitcase and flipped it open. Matt’s eyes grew wide at the sight of all that money.

  “Jesus. How long do you want me to stay under?”

  “As long as it takes. I’ll get in touch.”

  Robin grabbed the camcorder, the note and the keys from Matt’s hands and dumped them into the case. Then he thrust the case into Matt’s hands.

  “Get going, kid. Out the bathroom window. I’ll distract them.”

  “I’m not leaving you here,” Matt said as he tugged on his friend’s arm. “I brought them here. I got you into this. We go together.”

  Robin smiled sickly. “You didn’t get me into this remember? I got you into it.”

  “It doesn’t matter who did what, dammit. Let’s get out of here.”

  “Police! Open up!” A loud booming voice erupted throughout the living room.

  Robin jerked away from Matthew’s grasp. “I’d slow you down, kid. Don’t worry about me. I can handle myself. Keep the goods safe. Go out the bathroom window.”

  Another round of banging shook the patio glass door. Robin shoved him into the hallway. Before he knew it, Robin had retreated back into the living room.

  Toward the door.

  Toward danger.

  “Go! Now, you stupid son of a bitch. Do as I say!” Robin shouted back at him. He saw the fear in his friend’s eyes before he turned and headed toward the gun he’d left on the table.

  “God, Robin, what the hell are you doing?” Matthew hissed urgently as he ran back to get his partner. “Forget the gun!”

  “Go! Save yourself,” Robin commanded again. The crazed look in his eyes made Matthew listen.

  He whirled around and started back down the hallway. The sound of shattering glass and Whitey’s warning shout stopped him cold. In a split second he was being swarmed by Pauline.

  “Drop the gun, Matt,” she shouted fiercely.

  Matt hesitated. If he gave up the gun, they were both dead.

  Whitey stepped forward, his gun trained on Robin. No way out. He had to do what they said.

  He dropped the gun and Pauline swooped over to pick it up. She handed it to Whitey.

  “Well, well, well. What have we got here?” He looked from Robin then to Matthew then to Matt’s gun curled in his gloved hand. He inspected it curiously.

  “Strange bedfellows?”

  “You’re under arrest, Whitey. For corruption and a shitload of other things. It’s over,” Robin hissed.

  “For you,” Whitey replied coldly.

  It happened within a blink of an eye.

  The gun in Whitey’s hand rose in lightning speed. The earsplitting gunshot followed. Blood spattered against the beautiful wildlife painting on the wall beside Robin.

  The patio door disintegrated from the bullet that blew part of Robin’s throat away.

  Matthew’s eyes flew wide open. He winced as the sound of breaking glass still echoed viciously in his ears. His heart cracked like a jackhammer against his chest, his body primed for action. He swore beneath his breath and bolted up in bed.

  He scratched
his bristly chin, looked around the semi-dark room and tried to figure out where the hell he was.

  —

  In a desperate attempt to alert Tom, Sara had purposely knocked a pile of mugs off the kitchen counter. The crash reverberated throughout the house so loud it made Whitey cringe. When he recovered from the shock of the noise Whitey took a threatening step toward her.

  “He won’t get away. Not this time,” Whitey growled angrily.

  “Stay there! I’m warning you! I will shoot,” Sara shouted.

  But Whitey still came toward her.

  She had to shoot him. She had to protect Tom.

  Oh, please, God, forgive me.

  Closing her eyes, she pulled the trigger.

  Nothing happened.

  She pulled it again. Still nothing. When she opened her eyes Whitey was hurtling toward her.

  She wanted to run. To scream a warning. But it was too late!

  “Next time make sure the safety catch is off,” he snickered wickedly as he reached out to grab her.

  Sara cringed in horror, as she awaited his wicked touch. But then Whitey froze as a man’s fierce shout echoed through her kitchen.

  “Hold it right there or I’ll blow sunshine right through your brains!”

  Sara almost laughed with relief as she spotted Tom standing in the hallway. Clad only in jeans, his hair was all messed from sleep. But his green eyes shone with bright alertness. An old musket clamped firmly in his hands.

  Sara stifled a helpless cry. He held the same musket she’d hung over her fireplace as decoration. And it was totally useless. Did Tom know? Would Whitey guess?

  Tom glared at the white-haired man. If looks could kill, then Whitey surely would be a dead man.

  “You’re history, Whitey. Place your gun gently on the table.”

  The white-haired man chuckled lightly. “I’m history? Have you taken a look at your gun?”

  Oh, dear God, he knows. Sara’s heart picked up the battering beat.

  “Do it! Now!” Tom commanded. The icy authority in his voice jolted her. She peered through the early morning darkness at him.