Peppermint Creek Inn (37 page)

“What’s this?”

Sara reached in and brought out another bag.

“In this bag is a bomb that Tom found among the ruins of our inn.”

Garry’s jaw fell open in apparent shock and before he could say anything, Sara produced the familiar note and the handcuffs Tom had arrived in. She handed them to Garry’s now eagerly outstretched hand.

“This is a note Tom arrived with. And the cuffs I pried off him.”

She proceeded to produce the ashtray containing two bullets. The bullet retrieved from the cabin in Jackfish and the one she’d dug out of his own back. Tom flinched at the memory.

Pointing to one of the two bullets lying so innocently in the ashtray she said rather sharply, “And this is the bullet that attempted to silence your witness.”

“Witness?” Garry exclaimed with disbelief.

“That’s right. Tom is a witness. To a murder in Jackfish.”

The familiar pounding in Tom’s temples increased another notch.

Garry’s eyes narrowed. “Murder in Jackfish? This is the first I’ve heard of this. Who got murdered?”

“Sam Blake. As he was attempting to kill Tom. We found Sam’s body in the bottom of a well in Jackfish where Justin stashed it after he killed Sam Blake.”

“Justin killed Sam?” Garry looked at Sara as if she might be crazy.

“That’s right,” she replied defiantly and folded her arms across her heaving chest. Garry sighed as he leaned over and picked up the bullet Sara had pointed to from the ashtray. His eyes narrowed as he examined it carefully.

“Police issue. Older model,” his gaze flew to Tom. “You’re a lucky pup. Newer models cause more damage.”

“Hurts just the same,” Tom replied sourly.

“I’ll bet,” he returned the bullet into the ashtray as he continued to peer curiously at Tom. “Where were you shot?”

“In the back.”

“I see.” Although his expression appeared blank, instinctively Tom could tell Garry was getting quite interested. “And the other bullet?”

“We got it from the cabin where Jeffries and Blake were holding Tom prisoner. When Tom escaped, Justin shot at him. He missed the first time and hit a wall. The second time he got Tom in the back. I can swear to that in court because I’m the one who dug the bullet out of him.”

Garry’s bushy white eyebrows furrowed as he flashed Tom a quick look of concern. Then his gaze fell onto the note Tom had used to find his way here. As he read it, his blue eyes became dark with anger.

“This is Robin’s handwriting.”

Sara suddenly burst with excitement. “Tom, where are the keys? The motorcycle keys?”

“I have them. Why?” Garry said.

“Look at them, Garry.”

Garry threw her a confused look, shook his head with apparent impatience. With all this evidence coming out of the woodwork, Tom knew Garry was beginning to feel swamped and a bit irritated. Reluctantly the old man dug into his coat pocket to produce the item in question.

“Robin must have given Tom the note and the keys to my place knowing that I go on a lot of delivery trips with my peppermint products,” Sara said quickly.

Garry frowned and asked Tom coldly. “Did my brother give them to you? Or did you merely pick the keys up at the scene of the crime?”

Tom shrugged as he felt all eyes fall onto him. A cold sweat popped out across his forehead and scattered across his back. His headache began to gain momentum. He didn’t like the tone of Garry’s voice.

“I don’t know.”

“What the hell kind of answer is that!”

“He’s got amnesia, Garry,” Sara replied quickly.

Garry lifted his hand to press a finger firmly against his temple. Tom noticed the signs. The man was encountering a doozie of a headache. Well, join the club.

Garry chuckled strangely, shaking his head with disbelief. He whipped an amused look at him.

“You couldn’t come up with a better one than that? Half the criminals I work with use that line as a defense.”

Suddenly he’d had enough.

The dam of anger building through him finally burst.

“Frankly, I don’t give a shit about your other criminals. I came here because I found that note in my pocket. It was the only lead I had at the time. I waited for your help and now I’m being treated like a criminal. You might as well just blow a hole the size of a barn door through my head and be done with it, because once the cops get a hold of me, it’ll be morgue time.”

The room suddenly grew quiet.

After a moment, it was Jo that broke the silence. “Coffee anyone?”

—

An hour later, Sara and Jo were in the kitchen busily preparing a midday meal. Garry had taken a couple of aspirin for a headache and had escorted Tom to the bedroom so he could lie down and keep an eye on Tom at the same time.

How he could do both was beyond Sara. The least Garry could have done was allow Tom to stay here in the kitchen while Jo and she fixed up a lunch. Thankfully though, Garry had agreed not to contact the authorities. At least not yet.

“I can’t believe Garry is being so stubborn,” Sara hissed to her sister as she added some more hot water to the brown rice boiling in the pan.

“Sure you can. You were married to his son,” Jo chuckled as she reached into the cupboard for some plates to set the table. “Anyway I’m not making any excuses for Gar, but he’s only concerned for your safety and so am I.”

Sara whirled angrily on her little sister. “I’ve been around Tom for almost two weeks. If he wanted to hurt me, he would have done it by now.”

Jo threw her a puzzled look. “Hey don’t get so excited, Sara. We care about you. You can’t blame us for being protective, can you? I mean I know you would do the same thing for me if I was in your situation.”

She nodded. What Jo was saying was so true.

Taking a deep breath she allowed her anger to ebb away, then decided to ask the question that had been gnawing at her for the past two weeks.

“Do you think Garry will help Tom?”

Her sister visibly stiffened at the question. “Are you sure you want my opinion? You won’t like what I have to say.”

“Yes, please be honest, Jo. I don’t want any false illusions. Tell me what you think.”

“With all the evidence we have against this guy so far, I don’t think he has any chance, but if he can shed more light on all this and remember what really happened at Robin’s house the night he was murdered, then our opinions will change.”

Sara stopped stirring the rice and turned to face Jo who was watching her carefully.

“Are you telling me you don’t believe the witnesses?”

“I can’t say anything, Sara.”

“C’mon, I’m your sister.”

Sighing heavily, she patted her shoulder affectionately. “I don’t want to get your hopes—”

“So there is something,” Sara whispered, instinctively knowing her sister was having doubts about Tom being guilty.

“Oh, God, don’t get your hopes up, please. It may turn out to be nothing. And don’t tell Garry I said anything.”

“You have a hunch?”

“Sara…please don’t read too much into what I said.”

Jo’s words of warning couldn’t wipe out the excitement running rampant throughout her. Jo knew something and Sara had every bit of confidence Jo and Garry would discover Tom’s innocence.

“Not to worry. My lips are sealed.” She couldn’t stop herself from humming as she returned to stirring the rice.

“Anything else you want me to do after I set the table?”

“That’s everything,” Sara said, and then suddenly she remembered she’d forgotten something.

“Oh, my gosh. Dessert. I don’t have anything for dessert. Garry won’t listen to anything I say unless I ply him with sweets.”

“Got that covered. Widow McCloud cooked up a batch of her famous fresh blueberry coffee cakes early this morning. She’d taken them out of her oven only minutes before opening the store. There’s one on top of the fridge beside where you put Garry’s mail. And it’s probably still warm.”

“That’s Garry’s favorite! It’s perfect.” Sara couldn’t believe her luck. “Garry will do just about anything for Widow McCloud’s blueberry coffee cake.”

“Of course he will, and Widow McCloud knows it. She asked me to tell him to pick her up this Friday evening and they would be going to bingo.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope. And you know what else? That’s where I got my first inkling you had a man about the house.”

Oh, God! The condoms she’d bought at the store.

“She didn’t mention…”

“The condoms? Yes, she did.” Jo laughed. “That’s what you get for living in a small town. And even if she hadn’t told me, that little box sitting on the bathroom shelf would have clued me in. And by the beet red shade on your face…” Jo’s words trailed off for a moment before squealing with excitement and disbelief.

“You didn’t!”

Sara nodded, her face flaming.

“Details, girl. Details. Details. Details.” Jo laughed. “How? Well, I know how. I mean, so soon? You don’t even know him. He’s wanted for murder for heaven’s sake!”

“I’ll tell you all about it…” Sara hesitated before adding “…someday.”

Jo crossed her arms and leaned against the kitchen counter throwing Sara a relieved smile. “At least you were sensible enough to use protection.”

Sara bit her lower lip and returned to stirring the rice. They hadn’t used the condoms every time and she’d already had some time to digest the probability she might be pregnant or maybe something a whole hell of a lot worse.

Maybe it was desperation clouding her sensible side. Maybe she was just plain stupid, but she hoped her instincts about him were right. That he was a very careful man with his bed partners and she wouldn’t get anything but pregnant from last night’s lovemaking. Nothing else could come from their sexfest. Their lovemaking had been so beautiful, she simply refused to believe anything but beauty would result from having sex with Tom.

—

Sitting on the edge of Sara’s freshly made bed where he’d been handcuffed as Garry snoozed, Tom listened to Sara’s cheerful voice drift through the open door. He wondered what Jo was saying to keep Sara’s spirits up so high. He wished he could get in on it. He desperately needed some cheering up, too.

“I haven’t heard Sara happy like this in quite some time.” Tom jerked around at Garry’s gruff voice. He could have sworn the man had been sleeping. Garry’s eyes however remained closed as he spoke again.

“She used to laugh like that when my son was alive. But then he was murdered. Some say she did it. But I know better. Just wasn’t able to prove it.”

“Who do you think did it?”

“I’m not at liberty to say,” Garry replied. His eyes popped open and he eyed Tom curiously. “So exactly how did Sam Blake die?”

“Blake had a gun pointed at my head. I really wasn’t too curious as to watching the bullet escape the gun so I closed my eyes before Blake pulled the trigger. I heard a shot and next thing I know Blake’s on the ground. And Jeffries is standing there with a smoking gun. After that, I passed out. When I had a chance to escape, I scrambled out of the basement and then fell over the body. The moon was shining through a window and I noticed the bullet hole between Blake’s eyes. I grabbed the gun lying on the floor beside Blake and ran.”

Garry’s eyebrow arched up. “You have the weapon?”

“I do.”

He wiggled excitedly into a sitting position. “Where is it?”

“You take off these cuffs and I’ll get it for you.”

“Nice try, pup.”

“A guy can try, can’t he?” Tom chuckled.

“What kind of gun is it?”

“A .32. It’s not police issue.”

“A .32?”

“He drew it out of his boot.”

“A dummy gun. Although it’s illegal for cops to carry unregistered guns some do it anyway.”

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.”

“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.