Detective Flint Box Set: A Detective Story Box Set Books 1-3

by Nancy McGovern

  “Could the date mean something?” Tori asked.

  Judith shrugged and stopped at the front porch of the old hotel. Loose boards, broken windows and cobwebs greeted her. Looking up, she saw the second floor of the hotel staring down at her. “I don't know. The date could mean something, I guess?”

  Flint placed a foot on the bottom step and tested the warped, dry boards. They creaked under the weight of his foot. “The porch should hold our weight. Come on.”

  Hesitantly, Tori and Judith followed Flint up onto the porch. They watched Flint use his foot to try and get a warped wooden door open. The door, once painted a lovely green, was now laced with mildew and dirt. “Why are we trying to get inside here?” Tori asked.

  “Someone is in the jail across the street,” Flint answered, just low enough so that his voice wouldn't carry in the wind. “Let's get inside.”

  Judith began to look over her shoulder but Tori quickly grabbed her hand and shook her head. “Trust Flint, he knows what to do.”

  Flint carefully walked into a dust covered front lobby that had once been a welcome beacon for weary travelers. At the far corner of the lobby he saw a stone fireplace, sitting empty and cold. A wooden front counter hugged the left wall, and a set of L shaped stairs took up the right wall. A door leading into a small dining room was connected to the back wall, next to the fireplace. Flint examined his surroundings. “Close the door,” he told Tori.

  Tori eased the front door closed. “What's your plan, Flint?”

  “Accident,” Flint explained. “Our deaths are going to be made to look like accidents. But not in town. My guess is Edwin and his men are going to wait and watch us for a while. You guys put your shovels down for now.”

  “To see if we have back up, right?” Tori asked, propping her shovel against the front door. Judith placed her shovel next to Tori's.

  Flint nodded. “Yep,” he said. “I say we have about an hour before Edwin orders his men to move in on us.” He walked to the front door and put his shovel next to Judith's. “We'll hear if someone tries to get in.”

  “Flint, how did they know we were coming?” Tori asked, confused, staring at the shovels. Then she looked at Judith, a slow feeling of dread creeping over her. “Or Judith, can you answer my question?”

  Judith shrugged. “How should I know?”

  “Someone called in a helpful tip,” Flint said.

  “Not me, I swear!” Judith protested, looking horrified.

  “…but I don't think that someone was you,” Flint continued, like she hadn’t spoken at all.

  Tori looked deep into Judith's eyes. She had to agree with Flint. “Okay, so we have an hour. What's the plan, Flint? Why did you bring us into this crummy building?”

  “Follow me,” Flint replied. Going slowly, testing the floors with each step, he walked Tori and Judith into the small dining room. The dining room was lined with broken tables, chairs, and a back window that was broken. “Distraction,” Flint explained, walking over to the broken window. He pushed the window up and open, careful not to cut himself on the jagged shards of glass.

  “We're making a run for it?” Judith asked.

  “No way,” Flint said. “If we run, we'll be hunted down in a matter of minutes.”

  “Then what?” Tori asked.

  “I want Edwin Wayberry to think we did make a run for it. I want him to spread out his men out as thinly as possible.” Kneeling down, he tugged the end of Tori's skirt and ripped off a piece. Tori began to protest but stopped when she saw Flint place the torn material on a piece of splintered wood sticking out of the wooden window sill.

  Without saying a word, Flint went over to the door that connected to the dining room and stuck his head through. “This is the kitchen area,” he said, looking at an old wood stove sitting in the middle of the room. The room had a small oval window standing over a rusted sink. Flint bit down on his lip. “This will have to do.”

  “Do for what?” Tori asked, peering into the dusty, dark, kitchen.

  “That old wood stove will have to act as a barrier for us,” Flint explained. “Bullets will cut through this old wood like a hot knife through butter. We need to be able to hide behind something that will deflect bullets.”

  “And why are we going to have the need to deflect bullets?” Tori asked, worried.

  “Because,” Flint answered, “when Edwin sends his men to come in here and search for us, we're going to take them out, one by one.”

  “This isn't a western movie, Flint.”

  “Look,” Flint growled, “these thugs are running guns. The sight seeing business is a cover up to keep the local, state and federal badges quiet. I'm also guessing each tourist who comes here is part of the smuggling ring.”

  “Where does Henry Parsons play into this?” Tori asked.

  “I'm not sure yet,” Flint confessed. “But we'll get there. Judith,” Flint said, turning his attention to the nervous woman, “make sure you know how the use the gun hidden in your purse.”

  “How did you know?” Judith asked.

  “I'm a cop. It's my job to know. Now listen, ladies. I'm going to go outside, alone, stare at the sky for a few minutes, and then walk back inside.”

  “I don't understand…?” Judith said.

  “Flint is going to pretend he's looking for a helicopter,” Tori explained, catching on immediately. “You're going to try and buy us more time.”

  “Yep,” Flint said. “While I'm outside, you ladies go back to the dining room and watch the window. See if you notice any movement outside.”

  Flint walked back into the lobby, removed the shovels from the front door, and stepped out onto the front porch. Acting like a tourist, he began fussing aloud about the silly American woman from California as he walked off the porch and stopped at the bottom. With clever movements, he glanced up into the sky and slowly tucked his chin down as if he were talking into his shirt and then looked upward again. Slowly he began to walk toward the jail, stopped, and turned back around. Next he gazed up at the sky, then made his way back toward the hotel. Stopping at the front porch, he looked toward the office and saw Edwin open the front door, glance at him, and ease the door shut again. Turning away from the porch, Flint walked up to a building that once housed an old general store and paused. Looking skyward again, he nodded, then tucked his chin downward. With this task complete, he hurried back to the hotel and stopped at the front porch. With the full knowledge that a bullet could be fired at him from any direction, immediately ending his life, Flint nevertheless remained calm and focused. In fact, he felt in his element.

  Then came the next part of the plan. He slowly began to stroll past every building in town with his hands behind his back, pretending to examine the architecture and design. “Silly Americans,” he laughed aloud. “Ridiculous, really.” After a few moments he returned to the hotel again. After closing the door, he placed the shovels back in place and went into the dining room. “See anything?” he asked.

  Tori nodded, looking nervous. “One man, just beyond those trees. He hurried to the front of those trees over there when you walked outside.” Tori pointed. “Flint, he had an automatic weapon in his hands.”

  “I saw a man hiding in the jail but the rest of the buildings seemed vacant of any occupants,” Flint explained. “I can't be sure, but it seems like there aren't as many bad guys out there as I thought they were.”

  “Well, Judith might have come as surprise to them... maybe not... but it doesn't take an Army to knock off two cops, Flint,” Tori said. “And you did say our deaths might be made to look like an accident.”

  Judith kept her eyes focused on the window. Staring outside she watched the trees, the brush, and the man sized boulders, for any sign of movement. “How could my grandfather and grandmother be involved in a crime? My grandmother was a loving woman. She brought out the best in everyone. She made my grandfather so happy, too. He really didn't start being a cold fish until after my grandmother passed away.”

  “
Your grandfather made many westerns in this part of the country,” Tori said. She began to mention the story involving the hidden gold and the movie she had come across relating to the story, but hesitated.

  “You're implying the movie my grandfather made about the missing gold,” Judith said. “The movie he played a villain in, right?”

  “Yes,” Tori replied. “It wasn't long after Henry Parsons made the movie that he retired from the business. He invested his money wisely, made a fortune, and moved to Nevada and began Old West Tours which made its main attraction this little town. And maybe,” Tori said, taking a different train of thought, “your grandfather came across something out here he wasn't supposed to?”

  “What are you thinking Arnold?” Flint asked.

  “I'm not really sure yet. If we get out of here alive, I might be able to out two and two together,” Tori said. “But what I am thinking is that Henry Parsons really did believe there was hidden gold buried out there somewhere.”

  “The man had millions,” Flint pointed out. “Why would he go broke wasting time looking for a legend? Why would he bring tourist in to look for the same gold he could have been looking for?”

  “Good questions,” Tori admitted.

  “Which leads us back to Old West Tours being a cover up for some kind of hidden operation,” Flint said. “And don't forget, Arnold, Parsons went broke running Old West Tours. And now that I'm in this deserted town, I'm wondering how a man could lose millions running a business that required very little money to operate.”

  “Another good question,” Tori said. “I'll work every question out in my mind and get back to you.”

  Flint nodded. “In the meantime, we have to figure out how we're going to play our hand. We have a watcher in the back and the front, both armed with automatic weapons. My gut tells me those thugs are the only ones out there, besides Wayberry. I thought we were outnumbered there for a minute.”

  “We can make a run for it,” Judith said hopefully.

  “We'll be picked off one by one if we try and run out of here. Those clowns out there aren't chosen because they're bad shots,” Flint explained. “I'm sure each of those guys can shot a wing off a fly at five hundred feet. When you're involved in gun smuggling, you hire only the best, the toughest, and the roughest. Guys who can make their fist just as deadly as a bullet.”

  “Maybe if I make a commotion in front of the window, the guy outside will show himself and you can get a clear shot on him, Flint? You're a great shot,” Tori said.

  Flint shook his head. “That will still leave Edwin and the guy over in the jail,” Flint said. Kneeling down, he looked out of the window. Studying the dry, sun scorched terrain, his eyes settled on a boulder standing beside a sagging tree begging for water. “I see you,” Flint whispered.

  “Flint, we can't just stand here,” Tori said.

  “We can and we will,” Flint said, standing up. “The longer we stay inside, the more Edwin and his men will think I'm communicating with outside authorities.”

  “That buys us time,” Tori agreed, “but our time will run out.”

  “Yep,” Flint said, walking back into the kitchen and examining the wooden stove, “and that's what I want. Come on, help me start tearing up the floor. The only way we're getting out of here is if we shoot our way out. Let's make ourselves a fox hole behind the wooden stove.”

  “Good grief,” Tori said. “I had to get stuck with Wyatt Earp.”

  Judith watched Flint bend down and ease a piece of the floor board up. The board came up without a fight. “This is insane,” she said, scared.

  “When the shooting starts,” Flint explained, dropping the piece of wood down, “you will stay right next to me, is that clear?”

  “I... yes... but aren't you scared?”

  “I'm angry,” Flint confessed. “Someone betrayed me and I intend to find out who that person was. On top of that, the man who killed Henry Parsons could be in the jail or hiding out back and I can't get to either one of them. And, to put the cherry on the cake, I'm craving a blasted cigarette and I'm wearing a stupid wig that’s itching like hell.”

  Tori began to tell Flint to cool it when she heard the trolly pull back up. “Hey, in there,” Edwin yelled into the hotel from the front porch. “You need to come out. The trolly is here to take you back to your hotel. Storm is coming in.”

  “Flint?” Tori whispered.

  “Hurry it up, people,” Edwin yelled impatiently, “we haven't got all day. I'm not going to be caught out here in a storm.”

  Flint threw his hand down onto his gun. “Be at the ready,” he warned Tori. “Judith, stay behind us, but act like you're really upset with me.”

  Cautiously, Flint, Tori and Judith walked into the front lobby and out onto the front porch. “What's this all about? We were exploring the inside.”

  “Storm is approaching,” Edwin said and tossed his thumb at the trolly. “You guys need to load up and get out of here. Don't worry about your refund, either. I'll mail you all your refund checks.”

  Flint stared at Edwin. Unsure what step to take and why Edwin was letting his captives leave alive, he decided it was better to play along. “Fine, fine,” he griped, then grabbed Tori's hand and walked her to the trolly. “You coming with us, you silly American girl?” he asked Judith.

  “Jerk,” Judith yelled and marched toward the trolly. Even though she was scared, she felt relieved.

  “Come on, hurry up,” the driver fussed.

  Flint, Tori and Judith took their seats and the driver got the trolly moving. “What's going on?” Tori asked. “One minute we're preparing to shoot our way out and the next we're being driven away.”

  “I don't know,” Flint told Tori, watching Edwin walk back toward his office, “but I'm going to find out. Someone decided they didn't want us dead. And that someone is the same person who informed Wayberry of our real identity. That’s my feeling.”

  Judith leaned her head back against her seat and closed her eyes. She had been brave enough to dare and chase down her grandfather's killer. Now she felt like a coward. “I was willing, grandfather... but my fear defeated me again. I saw you being killed, and I did nothing,” she whispered as tears began to fall from her eyes.

  Tori stood up and seated herself next to Judith. She put a caring arm around the woman's shoulder. “Why the tears?” she asked.

  “I came here to capture my grandfather's killer. I thought, by forcing you and Detective Flint to help me, we would surely win. But... I'm a coward. You two were very brave and willing to shoot it out with the bad guys. Me, I nearly wet my pants at the thought of being shot at.”

  Tori smiled. “Oh, honey, don't think I didn't want to wet my pants. Flint. He's crazy sometimes. Tearing up the floor, hiding behind a stove, what was he thinking? But he's my partner and I know his experience is something I have to trust.”

  “Why did they let us go?” Judith asked, wiping at her tears.

  Before Tori could answer, Flint stood up, took out his gun and ran up to the driver. “Keep driving,” Flint ordered aiming his gun at the driver's chest.

  The driver looked at the gun aimed at him and kept driving. “Oh man, you're really asking to be buried six feet under today. Take my advice and leave Nevada while you still can.”

  “I want answers.”

  “Not from me you don't,” the driver answered and pressed down hard on the gas as the trolly raced off of dirt onto a road.

  Flint knew that the driver wasn't going to give him the answers he needed. “Fine with me,” he said, then lifted his gun and slammed it around the driver’s head, knocking the driver unconscious. The trolly began to swerve all over the road. “We're exiting stage right!” Flint yelled at Tori and Judith as he grabbed the driver, tossed him aside, and took his seat. “Let's go.” He gripped onto the steering wheel, leaning forward over it.

  Tori grabbed Judith and yanked her up. “Let's move,” she yelled and ran to the front of the trolly.

  “We're going
back!” Flint announced, slamming his foot down on the brake.

  “Are you crazy?” Judith screamed.

  “We're being set up,” Flint said. “If we go back to our hotel, we'll be dead before nightfall.”

  “How do you figure?” Tori asked as Flint brought the trolly to a stop.

  “The FBI is in on this, Arnold,” Flint explained in a quick voice. “Wayberry is an FBI Agent. I didn't catch that until now.”

  “How do you know Wayberry is an FBI Agent?” Tori asked, confused. “Flint, I know I'm no genius, but that man didn't exactly come across to me as a person intelligent enough to work for the government.”

  “I'll explain later. Right now, let's move.” Flint jumped out of the trolly and jogged to a set of trees.

  “Is he for real?” Judith asked, terrified.

  “I'm afraid so. But hey, look on the bright side, you did want to catch the man who killed Henry Parsons, right?”

  “Well... yes, but…”

  “Good.” Tori smiled. She grabbed Judith's hand and pulled her off the trolly. They ran over to Flint and kneeled down behind the trees. “Okay, so now what do we do?”

  “Circle back around to Gold Pot,” Flint said and looked up at the sky. The sun was hot and blistering. “Arnold, I bet you ten bucks there are illegal weapons in our hotel rooms and as soon as we got back the FBI would have conducted a raid and shot us dead, claiming we were gun smugglers. Edwin kept us in town long enough to put those weapons in our room.”

  Tori shook her head. “Flint, how do you know that? You really need to teach me your tricks.”

  “Experience takes time,” Flint said. “Judith, you better stay with us. If you go back to the hotel, you want have any chance to survive.”

  “Sure... okay,” Judith agreed.

  Tori put her hand on Judith's shoulder. “Clam down and breathe. You can do this, girl. Be brave, okay? You set out to capture a killer. Stay with your plan.”

  “I didn't know it... what I mean is, I wanted to avenge my grandfather’s death... But now I'm so afraid,” Judith confessed. “But I will be brave... for my grandfather.”