by Jan Springer
Quickly she turned away from the gray waters and forced herself to stare directly into the nearby bushes.
“What’s the matter?” Pauline called from where she sat on a gnarled tree stump several feet down the beach.
She forced herself to stiffen, to look nervous, to act as if she were trying to cover something up. Which she was.
“N-nothing. I just thought I heard something.”
Scout, sensing possible trouble, followed Sara’s gaze to stare at the thick bushes she’d been looking at.
Trying to appear as casual as possible, Sara glanced back out over the waters where she’d spotted movement a moment earlier. Her eyes widened.
Shit!
Tom sat in a tiny wooden kayak, the oar laid horizontally across the boat, the choppy waters throwing him wildly about as if he were a mere plastic toy. Yet miraculously he remained afloat.
In one hand, he held up a plastic wrapped package. In the other hand, he held a gun. He waved at her to move away from Scout. But before she could follow Tom’s instructions, Scout McMaster, having detected Matt, grabbed Sara and pulled her roughly to his side.
“Drop the damn gun, Matty!” he shouted down to Tom.
Pauline whirled around, a sinister smile plastered across her thin lips. “Look who the current dragged in.”
“Drop the gun! Drop it now, Matty! I’m warning you!” Scout was shouting now. Anger laced his voice. Anger and a tinge of panic.
Sara winced as the open tip of Scout’s gun kissed her temple.
“No way in hell, Scout,” Matthew shouted back. “Here’s the evidence. Let her go. Do it now! Or I kill you!”
“Toss it up,” Pauline demanded. “You keep the gun and she goes.”
Matthew nodded and threw the package. It landed on the wet sand-packed shoreline. Pauline didn’t waste a moment. Running to the water’s edge, she retrieved it. Ripping away the plastic exterior, and the brown wrapping paper, she let out a small cry of glee. Reaching inside the snack-sized milk carton box, she withdrew a small camcorder tape.
“This is it!” She held up the tiny tape.
Scout McMaster loosened his grip on Sara and strained to see.
“I trust it is the original?” Scout hollered down to Matthew.
“You can trust me all you want. Let Sara go! Now!” he ordered. “You have what you want. It’s over.”
“Throw the tape in the lake,” Scout McMaster ordered Pauline. She did as he instructed and hurled it far. Sara’s stomach sunk as the tiny tape was instantly swallowed up by the massive waves.
“Walk toward me, Sara.” Matthew ordered.
Scout nodded his head and let her go.
Not believing her immense luck, Sara didn’t hesitate. She walked quickly toward the beach.
Toward Tom.
His eyes widened in sudden fear and she turned her head just in time to see Scout lift the gun and aim it at Tom.
“Now! It’s over!” Scout shouted.
With a wild helpless fascination, Sara watched Scout McMaster pull the trigger. Gunshots rang out.
She gasped as she heard a horrible grunt from Scout McMaster. Pauline screamed as the notorious gun dealer clutched his head and pitched forward.
Sara whirled back around. Thankfully, Tom still sat safely in the kayak. But he was quickly disappearing in the thick mist. That’s when Sara noticed Pauline lifting her arm and the gun rising slowly, aiming at Tom.
Instantly Sara ran toward Pauline.
More shots rang out.
Tom flew backward into the water.
Sweet God! He disappeared beneath the waves.
Sara whirled on Pauline to see an evil, satisfied smile cross the blonde woman’s red painted lips.
Her gun hand began to swing around toward Sara.
A sinking feeling slammed into her guts. She wasn’t going to make it out of this alive. But she kept running. As long as she had breath in her lungs, there was still a chance.
She heart shouts from behind her.
She kept running.
She heard more gunshots.
Something tugged wildly at her hip followed by a sharp, searing pain. Sara gasped at the intensity of it. Stumbled. Quickly caught her balance, and started running again.
Then came to an abrupt halt as she noticed the bullet hole in Pauline’s forehead. Pauline was dead before she hit the beach.
A scream lodged deep inside her throat. She stopped herself from losing it. Now was not the time to freak out. Someone had accidentally shot Pauline instead of her. She needed to get to Tom. Needed for them to get out of here.
She turned toward the waters and barely heard a familiar woman’s voice cry out to her. A moment later, she crashed into the cold black waves where she’d seen Tom go under.
“Tom! Dammit! Answer me. You son of a bitch!” Sara screamed as she dove in and started swimming out.
“That’s not a way for a lady to talk,” a disembodied amused voice answered from somewhere close.
“Tom?” Sara gasped as she tried to stare through the thick white mist.
She heard him answer with a cough and quickly swam toward the sound.
And then she heaved a terrific sigh of relief when she spotted him, his face stark white in contrast to the dark waves as he swam toward her.
“You okay?” he sputtered as he grabbed a weak hold of her cold waist.
Tears of joy sprinkled down her cheeks and she didn’t miss the blood oozing from a bullet wound in his shoulder.
“You’re alive. That’s all that matters,” she cried.
“What the hell happened?” His teeth were chattering. He looked frail.
“I don’t know. Scout’s dead. Pauline’s dead. I don’t know who shot them.”
A frantic voice cut through the fog.
It was Jo.
“Your sister,” Tom mumbled. His teeth were chattering louder now. Or maybe it was hers?
She nodded and her heart thundered to the beat of the storm lashing down on them as they both swam through the giant frothy waves. When their feet touched the sandy bottom, she felt his warm embrace and his hot searing mouth covering hers.
How she’d waited for this. To feel Tom’s warmth surround her body once again. To suddenly feel whole.
The pain in her hip intensified.
Sara stumbled.
Concern flashed in Tom’s eyes.
She began to feel sick to her stomach.
“Sara? What’s wrong?” She saw his lips move but he sounded so far away.
“She’s hit.” Jo’s frantic voice echoed in her ears.
“She must have found my message?”
“What message?” Tom’s voice was beginning to sound as if he was talking in slow motion. A prickle of fear sputtered along Sara’s spine. Blackness hovered at the edges of her vision.
Oh, shit! She was going to pass out.
“She put one of those old tin pots she collects out here into the fridge,” Jo replied just as slowly. “She knows my stomach so well.”
“We’ve got to get her to a hospital, Jo.” She heard Tom’s desperate wail.
“I called the hospital on the cell phone. They’re sending a chopper. It should be here in a few minutes.”
“Is someone sick?” Sara heard herself asking.
“Yeah, you, sweetness,” Tom replied softly. She felt herself being lifted into strong, warm, safe arms.
“It’s all my fault. All my fault,” Tom whispered into her ear as he held her close. “I should have walked that first night I saw you. The first night I fell in love with you.”
“Ahh, love at first sight. You don’t strike me as the type,” Sara murmured.
The prickle of fear vanished as she cuddled closer to Tom. She felt so loved. So safe. So warm.
Closing her eyes, she allowed the safety net of unconsciousness to capture her.
Chapter Twenty
The unmistakable odor of medicine slammed into Sara’s nostrils urging her to open her eyes. She felt d
opey. Out of it.
Pale moss green drapes greeted her and she heard hushed whispers from somewhere far off.
Her gaze fell upon Tom who sat slumped in a small uncomfortable-looking metal chair. A couple of day’s growth shadowed his sexy face. The steady rise and fall of his chest proved he was asleep. He had one arm in a sling. The other arm stretched over her bed, his warm fingers intertwined with her own.
Sara smiled.
Matthew. His name was Matthew, not Tom. It tumbled over and over in her head. He looked like a Matthew more that he looked like a Tom.
Sweet. Honorable.
Tough. Dangerous. Sexy.
A warm sereneness washed all around her and she closed her eyes drifting off to a dream where rain dropped in silvery torrents and a magnificent emerald-eyed stranger made exquisite love to her on tangled sleeping bags in an old boathouse nestled on a sandy beach with a lone candle flickering in the window.
Sara didn’t know how long she slept, but the next time she awoke she felt a bit more aware and quite thrilled to find Tom—Matthew—she’d have to get used to his name—to find Matthew sitting in the same chair and his fingers still intertwined with hers.
This time he was awake, but staring off into space like some sort of zombie. She found herself frowning at the dark circles under his eyes, the haggard, haunted look about his face.
As if sensing she was watching him, he blinked then leaned forward in his chair, his fingers tightening around hers.
“You awake?” he whispered anxiously.
“Mmm. You okay?” Sara asked softly. Her gaze raked over the sling.
“Me?” He shook his head in amazement.
Sara nodded. “Yes. You. You don’t look so good. Are you okay?”
He lifted her hand in answer and gently kissed each finger. The light touch of his lips made Sara tingle with excitement.
“And you’re a finger man, too. Nice. Very nice.”
He smiled, but concern clouded his eyes. “Your hip hurt real bad?”
“A wee bit.”
He reached for the nurse’s button. “I’ll call a nurse. She can give you something for the pain.”
“No, It’s okay. I’m fine. Really.” She watched him relax. “So, did we get the bad guys?”
“Yeah, we got them.”
“We make a good team, huh?”
His fingers tightened desperately and she almost cried out at the way he was squishing her fingers. It was a direct contrast to the delicate way he brushed his bristly cheek against her knuckles.
“Yes, we do.” His voice had softened to barely a whisper.
“So? What happened? I remember Jo being there and then nothing.”
“She saved your life.”
Sara tried to smile but she was beginning to drift off again. She had to keep him talking. Keep herself awake. She didn’t know why but there was something in Matthew’s sad eyes that frightened her. He appeared somewhat distant and yet he so obviously cared for her. What was wrong?
“Tell me everything.”
“You sure?”
Sara nodded.
“It’s a long story.”
“I’ve got time.” She stifled a yawn.
“Okay. Well…after getting your ingenious message in the refrigerator, Jo shot over to Jackfish. I saw her from the kayak. Through hand motions, I signaled she cover Pauline and I’d take care of Scout. Turned out she couldn’t get a clear shot at Pauline from where she was. Before she could let me know, all hell had broken loose. My mistake.”
Matthew shook his head slowly, the tiny lines around his gentle mouth deepened into a grimace. “I should have known, but I wanted Scout. He was too close to you. I was—afraid.”
He chuckled or at least she thought it was a chuckle until she spotted the sprig of tears brightening his emerald eyes.
“Oh, God, Sara.” His voice broke making Sara even more frightened at the torment and apparent guilt he harbored. “I’m so sorry all this happened. I figured you’d be okay. But you weren’t.”
“I’m okay,” Sara soothed. “You’re okay. Everything’s okay. It’s over now.”
Her eyelids felt so damn heavy.
“You’re tired. You should sleep.”
“No,” she managed to mumble. “Stay. I want to hear your voice. Keep talking to me. What else happened?”
She heard him take a deep breath. “Pauline’s dead. She wasn’t my wife. She’d drugged me, forged my signature on the marriage certificate. The undercover name I used isn’t legit and the marriage was never consummated.”
The idea Matthew was a free man seemed almost too good to be true. She dared to hope that they would someday be together.
“Scout’s not dead. He’s gonna live. He’ll be a vegetable. Won’t stand trial for his criminal dealings.”
“At least he can’t hurt anyone by selling guns.”
“I guess.” He hesitated a moment then said, “Garry’s back. He found the evidence in a locker in that abandoned police academy he was talking about. The same academy Whitey, Robin and Garry attended. Apparently they’d been friends up until a point where Garry took a bullet for Whitey Jeffries.”
“What?”
“Garry and Jeffries were partners at one point in their career. One night a man high on drugs jumped them when they were on foot patrol. Whitey Jeffries used Garry as a shield. Garry took the bullet.”
“Oh, God. I didn’t know it was Whitey. I thought it was the druggie.”
“Garry never told anyone except his brother…and that was years after the fact.”
“But why keep something like that quiet? I just don’t understand why Garry would cover up something like that.”
“Because Garry didn’t want to go through the blue wall of silence that cops live by. If he’d turned in Whitey, there would have been an investigation. According to Robin, there was no physical proof what Whitey had done. It was his word against Garry’s. If Garry had talked then his life and his family’s life could have been in danger. Some cops don’t like the idea of other cops ratting each other out, no matter what. Garry could have been killed. Or worse, a member of his family could have been killed. He decided that keeping quiet was the only way he could protect his family.”
“How could Garry live with that knowledge? How could he stand to watch Whitey rise through the ranks to chief of police knowing he was such a coward?”
“According to Robin, it ate at Garry for years until he finally told Robin. Robin wasn’t one to sit idly by and let this go. That’s why he finally went after Whitey on his own. Went undercover as a bad cop for a while, but then he got cancer. Had to stop his crusade against Whitey and then he recruited me.”
Matthew continued. “Justin Jeffries didn’t kill Jack. I remembered a vicious fight between Blake and Jeffries when Jeffries spotted the necklace with the bullet around Blake’s neck. It was the same caliber as the one that…they removed from your husband. The missing bullet that someone had dug out of the wall.”
“But Justin was wearing the necklace. You said he…”
“He says he saw the bullet necklace around Blake’s neck asked him about it and Blake laughed and bragged at how he got away with murder. That was the argument I’d heard while I was semi-conscious in the basement of the cabin. After their argument Blake had left for awhile and Jeffries had kept an eye on me but when Blake returned and wanted to kill me, Jeffries killed Blake instead and—”
“And tried to pin the murder on handy you.”
“A frame-up. Like father, like son,” he admitted.
“But why would Sam kill my husband? You said something about Jack’s journal?”
“Here’s the theory the provincial police came up with after interviewing the folks in town. Shortly before Jack died, the local surveyor confirmed an amethyst mine find on your property. The local land surveyor and Blake are brothers. Brothers talk. Blake started to get ideas. Knew Jack and his partner Jeffries were good buddies. Justin says shortly before Jack was kil
led, Blake started pumping Justin for information. Asking all kinds of questions about Jack and your property. Started making friends with your husband. Started coming around a lot with Justin.”
“My God, they were around quite a bit toward the end.”
“But why kill Jack for the mine? They couldn’t do anything with the minerals. The government would get the claim anyway. They have all mineral rights here in Canada.”
“Blake and his brother, the land surveyor, made all the records of the claim disappear.”
Sara sighed her confusion. “I don’t understand. How would anyone know about the mine if they got rid of all the records?” Her mind was groggy but she wasn’t so out of it that she couldn’t see there were a lot of unanswered questions.
“That’s the beauty of this whole scheme. They’ve been illegally mining out on your north quarter for more than a year. Cran Simcoe just told one of the investigating officers that a drinking buddy who was hired to work at the mine and was getting paid big bucks to keep his mouth shut, spilled his guts about the mine only a few nights ago when he was drunk. Cran was scared to go to Jeffries. So he drove down to Thunder Bay and told the police down there. That’s how everything started rolling. They flew a police helicopter over your property and discovered the mine and the rest is history.”
It was too much to take in all at once. Tom hadn’t been kidding when he’d said this was a long story.
“I know. I remembered that I’d seen Jeffries take the necklace from Sam’s body that night right after he’d shot him in the back. I’m so, so sorry I said what I did about Justin being your husband’s killer. At the time I was desperate and trying to find a way to get Justin upset. Whitey gets quite irritated when one of his kids is upset. It worked though. Whitey got rid of Justin. I just wished I didn’t have to put you through that hell.”
She should be upset with him for tearing her heart out that way. But she wasn’t. He knew Whitey’s weaknesses and had worked quickly to try and get them out of danger the only way he could under the circumstances.
Sara giggled, his laugh contagious.
“I bought some, too! I hid them in the barn.” He immediately sobered. “But we didn’t use condoms every time.”
“Then why vandalize my place?”