Too Many Secrets

by E B Corbin

  “Classic cars, if you please. A friend and I went to every antique and classic auto auction in central Pennsylvania for the past four years.”

  Roxanne had Richard to thank for her knowledge of the cars. Although prepared for a boring experience, she had found herself fascinated by the vehicles with their intricate restorations. Her interest peaked with the sports cars, while Richard went for the muscle cars. The Triumph TR3 was right up her alley.

  “Then I guess it’s not so strange,” he said with a shrug. “It’s a 1960. Roxy’s kept it in top shape. It’s a great little car.”

  “Not practical in icy weather though.” Roxanne sounded like her spoilsport mother.

  “Roxy wasn’t known to be practical.”

  “Well, I guess I have no choice until the roads clear. Let’s see the pickup.” She put aside her desire to drive the small car. It would have to wait until spring.

  She followed Callahan to the detached garage, trying to keep within the few footprints already in the yard. Her tennis shoes were still damp from her last excursion in the slush. “Have you been out here?”

  “Nope. Those footprints aren’t mine.” Callahan didn’t sound concerned.

  “Maybe they fixed the furnace,” Roxanne decided. “Why else would it be working now when Patti told me it was broken?”

  “Maybe… or maybe the service Roxy used to clear the driveway made the footprints.”

  Roxanne asked, “Would they do it without getting paid?”

  “She might have a contract with them. They would come when it snowed without being called. Don’t worry, they’ll make sure they get paid.” Callahan clicked the device he held in his hand, causing the garage door to rise.

  Inside, a pristine black TR3 sat beside a maroon Honda Ridgeline. Roxanne had expected one of those ugly, huge pickups, but the elegant Ridgeline made for a pleasant surprise. If she had to drive around in a pickup for the foreseeable future, at least she wouldn’t feel like a redneck.

  She took the key from Callahan starting for the garage as Patterson’s wife walked up the driveway. “Oh, boy,” Roxanne muttered, waiting for the coming rant.

  “John.” The woman smiled at him. “What are you doing here?”

  “Just helping Roxy’s niece. I found her and her car in the creek last night.”

  “I heard about that,” Patterson’s wife said as she shifted her attention from Callahan to Roxanne. “I’m afraid I owe you an apology. I wasn’t myself earlier. Ralph’s accident really upset me.”

  “That’s understandable.” Roxanne relaxed, relieved the woman didn’t scream at her.

  “No, I’m truly sorry. I was quite shrewish this morning, and I rarely act that way.” Patterson’s wife shrugged. “By the way, my name’s Sylvia. I’m glad to meet you. Perhaps we can start over.” Roxanne shook her outstretched hand with a little hesitation. When Sylvia noted the key Roxanne clutched, she asked, “Are you leaving?”

  “I need to get back to Pittsburgh today. There’s work waiting.”

  “Ralph wanted to talk to you about Roxy’s will. He’ll be sorry he missed you.”

  “I’ll be back later in the week to pick up my car. Perhaps your husband will feel better by then.”

  “I hope so.” Sylvia sighed. “I’ve been looking all over for Roxy’s will because Ralph would want you to know what’s in it, at least. I can’t find it anywhere.”

  “You have enough on your mind without worrying about the will. It’s probably somewhere in the mess at the office.” Roxanne felt a twinge of sympathy for the woman who now regretted the earlier outburst. But she needed to get out of this town. She took a step toward the garage.

  “No, I spent the last couple of hours putting things together and didn’t find it. I’m in real estate, but I’m also kind of a legal assistant to Ralph. I know he had one copy of the will with him. It seems to have disappeared. Probably dropped in a snowdrift…” Sylvia glanced at the snow-covered yard as if to prove her point. “Don’t you worry about it, though. I’m sure there are other copies. I’ll find one before too long.”

  “Perhaps Roxy has a copy in her house or at the cabin,” Roxanne suggested. “I’m not worried; it’ll turn up eventually.”

  “Oh, thank you for understanding.” Sylvia half-smiled, backing out the driveway.

  “Take care of your husband,” Roxanne called. “Tell him I look forward to meeting him.”

  Sylvia gave a little wave.

  Roxanne felt a few snowflakes land on her nose and decided she’d better get moving before another storm came through. After waving goodbye, she whipped around only to run smack into Callahan’s chest.

  “Whoa there!” His arms circled her to keep her from falling. “Where are you going in such a hurry?”

  “To the truck and out of here.” Roxanne reluctantly stepped back. She didn’t want or need to feel so good in another man’s arms—not now, not ever.

  “I checked the weather on my phone. More snow forecast for this afternoon and evening. You should stay until tomorrow morning. It’s supposed to be sunny and cold all day.”

  “Hell, does it ever stop snowing in this town?” Roxanne raised her arms then let them drop in exasperation.

  Callahan chuckled. “Yeah, somewhere around May or June.”

  Still a little shaken by her encounter last night, she dreaded the long drive in the snow. Roxanne muttered more to herself than Callahan. “Maybe I could stay here in town tonight and leave early tomorrow morning. I need to call the office before I decide.”

  “While you’re doing that, I’ll run out to get us some dinner.”

  “You don’t need to do that,” Roxanne protested. “I can find something here to eat. Your grandfather will wonder where you’ve been all day.”

  “Gramps would have my hide if he thought I left Roxy’s niece stranded. I’ll be back.” He left without giving her any time to argue.

  Roxanne considered getting in the truck and heading to Pittsburgh, although she knew she couldn’t do that to Callahan after he’d been so accommodating since they’d met. Besides, she was hungry. It couldn’t hurt to share another meal with a good-looking guy.

  She was determined to keep the relationship a friendly one only. Her luck with relationships sucked. She wasn’t even going to reflect on how nice it felt to have Callahan’s arms around her. With a click of the remote, the garage door closed as she retreated to the kitchen hoping Eric came to the office on a Sunday.

  She had Eric’s extension programmed in her contacts so she dialed it direct.

  He picked up on the second ring. “Eric Munroe speaking.”

  “Hi, Eric, it’s Roxanne. Listen, I wondered if you had any time to look over those cases Anne gave you yesterday.”

  “Sure did. I found a couple others on point also. They’re on your desk.”

  “Thanks. Could you email them to me? I’m stuck in Oilville, and the weather is not cooperating. I have my laptop with me, so I can work on things from here.”

  “I’d be glad to, but I’m on my way out. If I miss another Sunday dinner, my wife will quit talking to me.”

  “Well, okay. I guess it can wait. I hoped to get a start on the pretrial memorandum, and need some references.”

  “Nothing to worry about. I already started it. Pretty sure I can finish tomorrow.”

  “I hate to have you do all the work,” Roxanne lied, hating only that Eric would get the credit for something she should be preparing. “I’ll be in tomorrow. We can finish it together.”

  “Sure. Sounds good,” Eric said. “There’s no reason for you to be concerned. I’ve got it handled.”

  I’m sure you do, Roxanne thought, though she merely said, “Thanks, then. See you tomorrow.”

  She knew Eric was her main competition for the partnership and hated to give him this opening, although he was a nice enough guy and she couldn’t fault his work. Her years at the firm should count in her favor, but if she dropped the ball with this latest case, it could turn against h
er.

  As she reconsidered leaving today, she caught a glimpse through the window of thick sheets of snow dumping another bewitching blanket of white. Definitely too dangerous to drive now, trapping her with nothing to do except wait for Callahan to return.

  He brought beer and pizza, a leisurely dinner with little clean up which suited Roxanne. As they ate, Callahan talked of how his grandfather refused to ask his family for help, even though they all knew he needed it. Roxanne found herself telling him about the partnership she felt was essential to her continuing success. She also mentioned Richard’s unexpected departure, keeping her disappointment and pain to herself.

  She enjoyed Callahan’s company, but insisted he return to his grandfather’s place despite the fact she wasn’t looking forward to spending the night alone in a strange house. She’d already taken up too much of his time.

  Callahan maintained he didn’t mind helping her out. He even offered to drive her into Pittsburgh tomorrow since he had to go into the city for a meeting.

  Roxanne thanked him refusing his offer. She had to catch up at work and had no idea when she could return to Oilville. While she appreciated his help, she felt more and more like a burden.

  Callahan assured her she wasn’t, then gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving.

  Roxanne resisted the urge to pull him back for a real kiss. Instead, she locked up going in search of the best bedroom.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Roxanne packed her few belongings and prepared to leave by seven Monday morning. With any luck, she’d be at work by ten. A little late, though not too bad. A few heartfelt excuses upon arrival should cover the faux pas.

  The sun shone most of the way, so she pushed the truck as hard as she dared. A speeding ticket would throw off her schedule— too much to do to get sidetracked today.

  When she entered her condo, she let out a small gasp. The place appeared almost bare. The sofa and coffee table, gone, the television and stand, gone. Indentations in the carpet marked where the dining table and chairs once stood. An ugly floor lamp, an off-white accent chair, and empty bookshelves remained in the living area.

  “Goddammit!” she growled. True, all the missing items were things Richard had brought to the relationship, still he could have warned her before moving everything out. Although she couldn’t place the blame entirely on him— he might have told her his plans if she’d given him the chance.

  She made her way into the bedroom thankful Richard had left the king-size bed, even as she noticed the sheets and pillowcases were gone. Since the mattress sat cockeyed, it appeared he changed his mind about taking it because of its bulk. The oversized dresser remained with the drawers hanging open and empty. Her underwear, socks, jeans, and casual tops were in a heap on the floor.

  Pulling out her phone, she called the office and told Anne she would be there soon. Thankful her suits and silk blouses still hung undisturbed, she grabbed the first outfit on the rod and threw it on the bed when she heard a noise coming from the kitchen. If the movers were back for more, they were in for a big surprise.

  She ran into the kitchen to make certain they only took what belonged to Richard—not that he did much in the way of cooking— but the Keurig must stay for her morning coffee.

  Instead of movers, she came face to face with two burly men in ski masks. One had to be well over six feet while the other stood not much taller than Roxanne’s five-ten. They were as surprised to see her as she was to see them.

  The taller one fumbled around in his pocket coming out with a small black gun. “Well, well, look who’s here,” he growled. “You can show us where it is.”

  “Where what is?” Roxanne barely got the words out as she stared at the pistol, her mind a blur.

  “Don’t play dumb.” He swung the weapon toward the empty living area. “Looks like you’re going somewhere.”

  “Uh, no. Just redecorating. A friend who lived here with me moved out over the weekend.” Whatever they were doing might be related to Richard’s fast getaway. Maybe she could talk her way out of this. “So if you’re looking for something of Richard’s, you’re too late.”

  “Who’s Richard?” the short guy asked.

  Damn! Maybe it had nothing to do with Richard. But she plowed ahead. “Richard Andrews. He used to live here.”

  “Stop playing games.” The man waved the gun in her direction. “Where is it?”

  “I don’t…” The buzzer from the lobby sounded in the entry. Startled, she glanced to the hall before her wary eyes moved from the entry to the two men.

  The shorter man jerked at the sound. “What’s that?”

  Roxanne thought fast. “My friends are waiting downstairs. They’ll come up to check on me if I don’t answer. Might even call the cops. They know I’m expecting them.”

  Neither man believed her. As she tried to figure out if she could make it to the door without getting shot, the buzzer sounded again, longer and more insistent.

  “Shit,” the man with the gun said. “We’ve looked all over. There's nothing here. She must have hidden it somewhere else.”

  “Let’s get out of here before there’s trouble,” the smaller guy said, growing more jittery by the moment.

  They pushed her out of the way to get out the door, knocking her into the kitchen island. As they ran down the outside hall toward the stairwell, Roxanne poked her head out long enough to watch them peel the masks to the top of their head so it looked as if they wore watch caps.

  Even though the interruption saved her from further hassle with the two idiots, she didn’t need further delays this morning, so when the buzzer sounded for the third time, she answered with irritation. “Yeah, what is it?”

  “Roxanne?”

  She recognized the voice. “Callahan? What are you doing here?”

  “You were expecting someone else?”

  “No, thank God it’s you.” She sank against the wall in relief. “Two thugs just ran out of my condo.”

  “Just now?”

  “Yeah, they were looking for something. I can’t imagine what.”

  “Where’d they go? Are you all right?”

  “A little shaken. Other than that, just peachy.” She tried to hide the quiver in her voice and stop her hand from shaking on the button to the intercom.

  “Wait a sec… Two guys are walking out of the parking garage right now,” Callahan told her. “One tall, one short. I can’t make out their faces, they have knit hats pulled low. Is it them?”

  “Sounds like them. But what are you going—?”

  The intercom clicked off, then on again for a second. Roxanne heard Callahan yelling. “Hey! Stop right there!” then nothing.

  She ran to the balcony to catch the action on the street. As Callahan approached the two intruders, they took off running. He gave chase, closing the distance with remarkable speed. The larger guy fired several shots behind him not bothering to stop to aim. Callahan avoided the bullets by darting between parked cars and into doorways. Roxanne feared an innocent bystander could get hurt but the street and sidewalks remained empty except for the three men. If someone peered out from a window, she couldn’t tell from her vantage point.

  The chase continued up the street with Callahan gaining on the two men. He ran like a pro while the other guys kept bumping into each other, scrambling around garbage cans out for pickup, hopping on and off curbs. All three rounded a corner, disappearing from Roxanne’s sight.

  For close to five minutes, she stood trying to decide whether to call 911. She didn’t wish to get involved any deeper in this dangerous situation, but Callahan might need help. Even though she heard no more gunshots, she decided to do the right thing and call in a report.

  Before she went in search of her phone, Callahan reappeared, moving toward the condo. He walked alone, shaking his head in disgust.

  The intercom sounded again.

  “Buzz the door. I’m coming in.” His voice came through the speaker between bursts of static.

&n
bsp; Roxanne pressed the button to open the outside entrance hoping her twitching fingers held it long enough. Her hands shook; her breath came in fast gulps. She closed and locked the condo door, not taking any chances until Callahan arrived.

  When he tapped on the door identifying himself, Roxanne wanted to throw herself into his arms. Instead, she stood blocking the entrance, trying to restore a normal heartbeat. “How did you know where I lived?”

  “I have my ways,” he said with his lopsided smile. “Who were those guys?”

  She shrugged. “I have no idea. They had ski masks on when I caught them in the kitchen. They took the masks off when they ran into the hallway. I only caught a quick glimpse of their faces… enough to know I never saw them before in my life.”

  “You’re sure about that?”

  “Yes, dammit, I’m sure. They were searching the kitchen for something. I think it may have to do with Richard since he made such a speedy exit on Saturday.” Roxanne chewed a fingernail. “But I’m not certain. They acted as if they didn’t know Richard. Of course that could have been a bluff to throw me off balance.”

  “Did they say what they were looking for?”

  “No, only wanted to know where it was. I told them I didn’t know what they were talking about.”

  “Did they believe you?”

  “I’m not sure. When you buzzed on the intercom, it spooked them. They ran off like jackrabbits.”

  “They had a friend sitting in a pickup around the corner and took off before I could reach them. I got the license number; I’ll run a check on it.”

  Roxanne gave him a quizzical look. “You have access to that kind of info?”

  “I work for the State Department, remember? I have access to all kinds of info.”

  “What exactly do you do there?”

  “It’s hard to explain.” He looked around the living area to avoid the question. “Wow, I see you don’t believe in clutter… or furniture, for that matter.”

  “Don’t be a smartass. I told you about Richard leaving.” Roxanne followed his gaze around the almost bare room. “I didn’t know he planned on taking all the furniture.”