Peppermint Creek Inn (46 page)

“She’s nobody,” Matt interjected quickly.

“She looks like a somebody to me. Somebody I’d like to get to know,” Scout drawled.

“Scout would you take a look see if Dad’s okay?” Pauline pointed to the gaping hole of the well Tom had fallen into the other evening. It was barely visible in the gray misty light.

As he quickly headed toward the well Scout threw Sara a look, a heated look that made her shiver with revulsion.

“Hey, Whitey? You okay down there?” he called down the hole.

No answer.

Sara’s frantic gaze flew to search the tall grass. She’d lost the pen somewhere on the ground nearby when she’d stabbed Pauline. And now she couldn’t find it.

“You looking for this?”

All the fight rushed out of her body as Pauline held the pen up.

Her only weapon, her last hope was gone.

“No answer,” Scout replied as he continued to peer down the hole. “I can’t even see him. It’s too dark. He’s probably knocked himself out.”

“Leave him for now. We’ll get him later,” Pauline said sternly. She turned to Matthew but the gun in her hand never left Sara.

“Please, no more games, Matt. Where is it?” she said wearily.

“You’ll have to undo my cuffs,” he stated calmly. He sounded a hell of a lot more calm than he felt.

“I don’t think so,” Pauline spat.

“I can’t swim without my hands.”

“Swim?” both Pauline and Sara asked in unison.

Tom nodded. He nodded down the hill toward the fog-enshrouded Jackfish Bay.

“It’s out there. On the island.”

—

A few minutes later, they stood on the sandy beach.

Pauline had unlocked the handcuffs and Matt had stripped down to his underwear. He stood in the cool morning mist, shivering uncontrollably awaiting a decision as to who would accompany him.

“You go with him, Scout,” Pauline instructed.

“Can’t.”

“Sure you can. Follow him out to the island. Make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid, like take off.”

“Can’t swim. You go with him. I’ll stay here with the lady. I’m sure we can amuse ourselves.”

Matt stiffened at the remark. He wanted to belt the scum, but he had to keep his cool. If Scout only knew how much he loved her. Matt shuddered to think what would happen to her. And Scout would make sure Matt watched the whole thing.

Pauline rolled her eyes heavenward in disgust.

“Forgot my bathing suit,” she said. “Just get the evidence, Matt. All of it. You don’t come back, she’s a goner. Is that clear?”

“Crystal.”

He took a step toward the giant black waves rolling onto the sandy beach.

“No! Please.” Sara’s cry tore at his heart. “He can’t go in there! There’s a storm coming. The waves are too big. He’ll freeze to death. Maybe there’s a boat around here somewhere he can use.”

Matthew tensed and anxiously waited as Pauline cast her gaze across the fog-shielded inlet and the white-capped waves rolling onto the beach as if pondering Sara’s plea then she replied icily, “Don’t worry. He’ll think warm thoughts of you. Go ahead, Matt.”

Before Sara could protest again, Tom took a deep breath and with one fluid motion, he dove into the brooding black water.

—

Chilly rain pellets stung Sara’s face as she watched the swirling dark waves get higher with the oncoming wind. Thunder crunched overhead, making her jump involuntarily. Ice cold fear for Tom’s safety slithered through her like a cobra.

He’d disappeared beneath the frothy waves quite a while ago. She’d searched the misty waters for one more sign of him. One more glance for her memory. But he’d never resurfaced, most likely opting to come up for air under cover of the veily mist.

She hoped and prayed he wouldn’t come back. Any important information he’d accumulated and left on the island belonged to the authorities. Even if her life needed to be sacrificed. Knowing Tom would be safe gave her all the reassurance she required to endure just about anything.

“What’s taking him so long?” Scout McMaster said.

Sara spun around to face him as he stepped closer to her. His gun was pointed at her stomach. An ugly sneer gripped his pockmarked face and his grubby eyes raked over her body. Sara swallowed the horrible chunk of dryness threatening to clog her throat.

“The island is a fair bit to swim to,” she replied trying to appear calm.

“If it’s really there at all,” he whispered softly.

He reached up with his free hand and Sara tried not to flinch as he ran his slimy fingers through her hair. His lips parted. Sara cringed inwardly at the sight of his yellow teeth. She smelled his nauseating breath grate over her face, yet she resisted the overwhelming urge to lift her knee and sock it to him where the sun doesn’t shine.

Stall him, Sara. Stall. Tom needs more time.

Her heart pounded fiercely against her rib cage at what she was about to do. She felt faint as the air tried to squeeze into her constricting lungs. The gun poked painfully into her rib cage and Sara forced a seductive smile to her lips.

—

It didn’t take long before Matthew’s arms and legs grew numb, but the fear of what would happen to Sara if he didn’t return propelled him into blanking out the numbness.

Breaststroke. Kick. Sidestroke. Kick harder. Keep moving. The icy fingers of the water slithered along his cold body. God, he needed to get warm.

Sara.

He needed to think of Sara. An agonizing ache erupted deep inside his heart as he thought of last night. She’d moved in perfect rhythm beneath him. Her velvety body luscious and smooth. So beautiful.

The woman of his dreams. A great mother for their children. A passionate, talented woman. Desirable, strong and independent.

Fire breathed into lungs and he found himself gasping for air. His arms and legs began to slow, to grow heavy. Panic notched up a few degrees. Something hard cracked against his knees and arrows of pain shot way up into his hips. He cursed loudly. His hands grazed against rock. A large jagged rock. Then another.

He lifted his weary head. Through the white mist, a wall of sheer gunmetal gray loomed like a giant in front of him. He’d hit the damn island. By golly, he’d made it. He would have let out a shout of success but he was too pooped to even gasp.

Climbing out of the black waves, Matt shivered as the cool raindrops nailed into his naked skin. He sat down on one of the boulders catching his breath and looked around. Mist swirled everywhere, through each crack and crevice, across every boulder. His gut clenched. Nothing seemed familiar.

Maybe he was wrong about this island. Maybe he’d put the evidence somewhere else? Maybe he’d only dreamed it was here?

Swallowing hard, he fought the overwhelming panic threatening his sense of confidence and forced himself to stand and to start walking. He had to stay strong. He had to think.
Think, man, think.
Where could he have stashed the evidence?

He was so deep in thought when a few moments later he realized walking had become easier. He’d stumbled off the stony beach onto sand. That’s when he saw the overturned kayak and that’s when he finally remembered where he’d put the evidence and how he could get back off the island and rescue Sara.

—

“Who killed Robin?” Sara asked the question the moment it popped into her head.

Thankfully, Scout’s dry lips stopped mere inches from hers. His eyes narrowed and he shook his head slowly. “You sure know how to ruin a party, gal.”

The gun left her ribs and he savagely pushed her away from him.

“He got in the way of a bullet,” he replied angrily. “What do you think? Whitey had to clean out the pest. Can’t work proper with varmints double-crossing you.”

“Then Tom didn’t do it?”

“Why the hell do you call him Tom anyway? His name’s Matthew Brown. Least ways that’s the name the rat went by in New York.” He stroked the barrel of his gun with apparent affection. “And I can’t wait to kill him.”

Lifting his head, his piercing dark blue gaze fastened onto Sara, his eyes roving over her breasts and settling between her legs.

“But first I’ll let him watch while I take pleasure in fucking you. I’ll enjoy your screams as I come inside that sweet little pussy of yours. Alas in the end we’ll have to part so to speak and you’ll join your boyfriend in the truck where you’ll both meet an unfortunate accident as your truck stalls on the train tracks.”

Sara shivered at Scout’s horrible words. She’d been wondering how they’d do it without causing too much attention. What better way than to make it look like a train accident.

Scout continued to pet his pistol and his eyes glazed wide with wonder. “Don’t you see how easy it was to frame Matty? All the chief had to do was say the man was guilty and everyone believed it. Brownie’s just another chump, a sucker, who thinks he can sweep the streets clean. He can’t do it himself. There’s too many of us out there.”

McMaster laughed harshly. “Now c’mere, I want to party with you.”

She shrieked with disgust as he grabbed for her again, his slimy hands circling around her waist with an iron steel grip. He pulled her close. Too close.

She could feel the hard bulge of his small cock rub against her thigh, and squelched the need to scream her head off. His face lowered again and he nuzzled his clammy lips against the base of her neck.

God help her, she was going to start fighting him any moment. She almost did a double take when she spotted movement in the misty waves. Before she could pinpoint the location or attest to what had captured her attention, it was gone.

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.