Too Many Secrets

by E B Corbin

  As she pulled the door shut, she had a sudden realization. She thought the ordeal was over when Callahan showed up with the other agents. Now she feared it had only begun.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  When Callahan climbed into the driver’s seat, he observed Roxanne for a moment. “How are you feeling?”

  “Tired, upset, a little angry, and scared. How should I be feeling?”

  “I meant, are you sure you don’t want someone to check you out?”

  “Like a doctor, you mean? No, no way. There’s nothing physically wrong with me.”

  “Okay, okay. Just checking.” He started the engine. “I talked the Chief into waiting until tomorrow morning to interview you. He wasn’t thrilled about it, but he agreed. Now, I’ve got to touch base with Gabe and Ron at the hospital. I can take you back to Roxy’s place in town first.”

  “No. I’ll go with you.”

  “I thought you hated hospitals.”

  “I do. But they’re almost tolerable when I’m not stuck in bed. I need to find out how Luke is doing.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  Callahan nodded before he reversed into the lane. He picked up speed when they reached the paved road. Within fifteen minutes they pulled up to the hospital entrance, leaving the SUV parked in the half-circle in front of the main doors. They entered through a large revolving door which turned on its own, so they had to step in quickly when an opening appeared. They both jumped into the same gap, a space barely big enough for two. Their arms and legs bumped along together until Callahan put his arm around her so they walked in tandem.

  They separated as they stepped into the clean lobby. The small-town hospital was state-of-the-art with modern lights gleaming over beige tile. When they spotted the arrow pointing to the emergency room, they followed it. After a brisk walk down the short hallway, they pushed through a set of swinging doors, not surprised to find Gabe slouched in a hard vinyl chair.

  “Any news?” Callahan asked.

  Gabe blinked up with tired eyes. He rubbed his hands over his face where a five-o’clock shadow had formed. “Taggart’s in surgery. He’ll survive, but his tibia’s shattered. Ron’s keeping an eye on the operating room through a viewing window, although I doubt Taggart will be able to walk, let alone run away anytime soon.”

  “And Luke?” Roxanne asked.

  Gabe shook his head. “He didn’t make it.”

  “He… He’s dead?” With a quiver in her voice, she grabbed the wall to keep from collapsing. “Shit.”

  “Yeah, that about sums it up.” Gabe shifted, looking uncomfortable. “This has been a long night, and it’s going to get longer.”

  Callahan asked, “Do the local police know about Luke yet?”

  Gabe shrugged. “Can’t say. The EMTs tried their best, but the blood loss was too great. The emergency room doc declared him DOA.”

  Bud Mercer came flying through the emergency room doors. “What the hell!” He seethed at Roxanne. “You’ve got a lot of explaining to do, missy.”

  Callahan casually stepped between Roxanne and Bud. “Perhaps you should be more concerned with why Luke was meeting with a terrorist.”

  “He was probably doing his job. Tracking a bastard who shouldn’t have been able to enter this country in the first place.” Bud turned to include Gabe in his tirade. “If you two had been doing your jobs, that Irish fucker would never have been here.”

  When Gabe started to rise, Callahan signaled him to stay down with a slight shake of his head. “We’ll decide about Luke’s involvement once Taggart’s able to talk.”

  “So that bastard survived? A good man died but that piece of shit’s alive?” Bud scowled. “When can I question him?”

  “Not until tomorrow, and only after we’ve talked to him first.”

  “Sure, you’ll cover your asses, telling him what to say. You won’t get away with this.”

  “Look, you’ve lost a fellow officer tonight—and you have my condolences— but we’re all after the same thing here: the truth.”

  “Truth? Shit, you just want to make this into a nice neat package to hand to your bosses. We’ll be watching you.” Bud swung around, anger pushing him out the door. He stopped halfway and pointed an accusing finger at Roxanne. “Don’t you even think about leaving town.”

  “Wow,” Gabe said. “He’s on the warpath.”

  “Yeah, the question is why.” Callahan let out an irritated sigh. “Is he involved too?”

  “Involved in what precisely?” Exasperation laced Gabe’s tone.

  “I don’t think Bud knows about it.” Roxanne’s subdued voice could barely be heard.

  Gabe eyed her in surprise. “Do you know what’s going on?”

  “Sort of,” Roxanne replied. “It has something to do with the IRA stash.”

  Gabe glanced to Callahan. “So we were right.” He shook his head. “Why is it always money?”

  Worry crept into the corners of Callahan’s eyes. “Maybe because they need cash to buy weapons to start another rebellion? Makes sense. Have you heard anything back from Interpol about Taggart?”

  “Not yet. They’re on it though. Apparently the new IRA hasn’t been very discreet about rounding up the old funds.”

  “Great.” Callahan sighed. “So we’ve got Taggart, probably a little fish, and a few hundred thousand dollars. If there’s over $4 million stashed in the US and Europe, this is just the tip.”

  Gabe reminded him, “It’s better than nothing.”

  Roxanne listened with half an ear. Her body felt close to shutting down. She wondered if it really were possible to sleep standing up. She shifted against the wall.

  Callahan caught the slight movement. “I should take Roxanne home. We can figure this out when I get back. In the meantime, try to get in touch with someone from DC, see what they want us to do.”

  “Already done. Except everyone in DC’s asleep right now. Probably won’t hear from them until morning.”

  “Let me know as soon as you learn anything.” With his hand on Roxanne’s elbow Callahan steered her through the swinging doors toward the lobby.

  Too exhausted to open her mouth, Roxanne shuffled along in silence. It took everything she had to walk upright.

  When they were back in the SUV, Callahan rested a hand on her knee. “I know you’re beat, but we’ve got to find out if anyone else is involved in hiding assets. Did Patti know about it?”

  “I don’t think so. She seemed more concerned about the diner than anything. I’m almost sure she didn’t have a clue about Luke’s monthly payoffs for his silence.”

  “Luke was getting paid? By who?”

  “Those other three guys. They spent a portion the cash. From what I overheard, whenever they needed extra or wanted to buy something, they took a little more. They thought the IRA was never going to come back for it. Then when they found out Taggart was coming, they panicked.”

  “Did you hear anything about how they got their hands on it in the first place?”

  “One of their uncle’s was an IRA member before he came over here.”

  “Dan O’Malley’s uncle?”

  “Could be…” Her voice floated out in a whisper as she fought to keep from drifting off. Her adrenalin rush had long faded. Combined with the warmth of the SUV’s heater, sleep drew her.

  The motor shut off before she realized they were moving. When Callahan opened his door, Roxanne sat upright even though her eyelids felt glued tight. As the passenger door swung open, the surge of chilled air defeated any notion she could escape back to oblivion.

  With Callahan holding her up, she stumbled to the porch, tripped through the door into the house. Upstairs, in the cozy bedroom she had claimed as her own, she closed her eyes falling into a dreamless sleep, still in the clothes she wore all day.

  ◆◆◆

  A loud rapping on the door, accompanied by the incessant ringing of the doorbell, woke her. Roxanne turned away from the window where th
e morning sun shone brightly through the frosted panes. It took a second to get her bearings. Then it all came back to her, causing her to shiver under the down comforter.

  The pounding and buzzing continued downstairs.

  She swung her legs out of bed, wishing for warm, furry slippers, but all she saw were her socks and boots from yesterday. Better than nothing, she pulled them on. Though she still wore the filthy jeans and rank sweater, she didn’t take time to change.

  The pounding became incessant.

  She made her way down the stairs, longing for coffee and silence, fated to get neither. She opened the door to find Bud Mercer glaring at her.

  “Let’s go,” he demanded.

  “What? Where?” Her voice came out in a croak.

  “To the station. The chief’s waiting.”

  She cleared the gravel from her throat. “What time is it?”

  “Seven thirty, time to go.”

  “Can I make some coffee first?”

  “We got coffee at the station. Grab your coat.”

  Barely able to comprehend his orders, Roxanne slipped into her jacket and followed Bud to the cruiser idling at the curb. Bud put her in the back, locking her in like a caged tiger. She was not yet awake enough to protest, so they rode the distance in silence.

  Chief Walters waited in his office when they arrived. He offered Roxanne a chair before he sent Bud to get coffee. If they were playing the good cop-bad cop scenario, Chief Walker wanted the role of good cop. Bud came back carrying two cups of the steaming black liquid. He carefully sat one mug on the chief’s desk then handed the second to Roxanne, without bothering to wait until she had a grip on the handle. The coffee sloshed around in the mug. Though a few drops landed on her leg, she showed no reaction.

  She knew the importance of getting her mind in gear and her thoughts in order but she stared at the cup, unable to pull herself together. The first sip of the foul-tasting liquid burned the roof of her mouth. Cop coffee rated as the rankest drink she’d ever tried, but she needed the caffeine, so she slowly took a second sip while giving the chief a phony smile. “You wanted to see me?”

  He nodded while dumping four packets of sugar and two thimbles of white liquid, passing as cream, into his mug. He watched her as he stirred. “Yes, I have questions about yesterday.”

  Roxanne took one last swallow of the vile liquid and, finding nowhere else to set the mug, leaned forward to put it on Walker’s desk. “I want a lawyer.”

  His eyebrows rose, but Chief Walker never wavered. “Fine, but it could take time to locate one. You’re aware that one of the two practitioners in town passed away this week.”

  “I’m well aware of it,” Roxanne said. “Nevertheless…”

  “You would prefer to wait here, maybe for hours, until we locate an attorney.”

  “I would prefer to be at home drinking a decent cup of coffee.”

  “So would I, young lady, but that’s not possible right now. One of my deputies died yesterday. I’ve been told you were responsible.”

  Roxanne held up a hand. “It was self-defense.”

  “Hmm, yes, so Mr. Callahan reported. However, I find it hard to understand. Luke Myers was a good man, a topnotch law officer for over ten years.”

  Roxanne shrugged biting her lip to keep her mouth shut.

  “Now, you’re telling me he tried to kill you?”

  “Yes.”

  The chief shook his head. “I’m sorry to say, that’s not what we heard from Mr. Taggart.”

  “You talked to him?” Roxanne’s curiosity overshadowed her caution.

  “This morning. Bud found Mr. Taggart awake and eager to give his side of the story.”

  Annoyance creased Roxanne’s brow. “He murdered two men in cold blood yesterday.”

  “So you say.” The chief added, “Mr. Taggart claims self-defense—same as you.”

  “Oh, for God’s sake, the man’s a wanted criminal, in this country under a forged passport.”

  “Well, that may be true, but it’s not my problem. I need to know why you shot and killed my deputy.”

  “Self-defense,” Roxanne repeated.

  “Hmm… is there a reason Luke tried to kill you?”

  “Must have been,” Roxanne gave a dismissive shrug. “You could ask Patti.”

  “Patti Smith?”

  “Yeah, Patti from the diner.”

  “Why would Patti know?”

  “She’s the one who asked him to kill me.”

  “Okay, so let me get this straight. You not only shot and killed my deputy, now you’re trying to place the blame on a waitress who wasn’t anywhere around at the time?”

  Roxanne gave him a wry smile. “Yep.”

  “I’m supposed to believe this story?”

  “It’s the truth.”

  “Hmm, I guess we’ll see.” Walker took a long drink of his coffee. It must have tasted better with so much sugar and imitation cream, since he smacked his lips before he returned the mug to his desk with a thump. “I’m afraid I might have to keep you here until we straighten this out.”

  “Am I under arrest?”

  “Not at the present time.”

  “Then you can’t.”

  He scowled. “Try me.”

  “I told you before: I want a lawyer.”

  “Yes, so you did. Well, I’ll see what I can do.” The chief rose signaling Roxanne to follow. He led her to the same small room where she had first met with Luke. “Do you have an attorney in mind, or do you want us to get one for you?”

  Roxanne found it hard to concentrate. The decision, hell, any decision, even a simple one, seemed too much to deal with. This whole scenario was foreign to her. Never had she been on the wrong side of a criminal investigation. In fact, she knew little about criminal law. She wished she could call Richard, the only criminal attorney she knew. But that ship had sailed the minute she walked in on him packing. And no way would she call the law firm for a referral. “Let me think about it,” she finally told the chief.

  “Suit yourself.” He closed the door.

  Roxanne lost track of how long she sat in the cramped room, staring at her hands. She couldn’t shake the inertia clogging her mind. When she thought about what happened yesterday, it seemed like a bad dream. She couldn’t believe she’d spent time locked in a filthy room waiting to die, let alone wrap her brain around the fact she’d shot and killed a man. This could not be happening to her. She felt as if she somehow dropped into an alternate universe where she had no control.

  It could have been five minutes or five hours, but at some point, Chief Walters returned to the room. “Have you made your call yet?”

  At first, Roxanne didn’t understand what he meant. Gradually it dawned on her that she needed a lawyer but she’d made no progress in coming up with someone to call. Really she hadn’t thought about it. To bring it to mind now only confused her. “Call anyone. A defense lawyer, preferably.”

  “Might take a while,” the chief said. “We don’t have many of those lawyers with fancy titles around here. You’re required to stay until he shows. You sure you don’t want to answer my questions?”

  “I’ll wait.” She had nothing else to do anyway.

  Before the chief could comment, a commotion drew their attention to the outer room. The office door flew open. Callahan stood there, his eyes flashing with anger. Two state troopers brought up the rear, looking ill-at-ease. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.

  “I’m having a conversation with Miss Boudreaux,” the chief answered, unruffled. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “I’m taking her home.”

  “Under whose authority?”

  “The Attorney General of the United States.” Callahan handed the chief a sheet of paper with an impressive gold-and-blue insignia at the top.

  The chief took his time reading the document. Slowly, he turned to Roxanne, his face beet-red. She saw the pulse pounding next to his right eye. “You’re
free to go. For now.”

  She glanced from the chief to Callahan who stood with his arms crossed, his legs spread, not giving an inch. When Callahan gave her a nod, she rose from the chair and grabbed her filthy parka. Her knees wobbled so much, she hoped she could get past the chief while keeping her legs steady.

  “This isn’t over,” the chief called as Roxanne followed Callahan and the two state troopers to the front office, where Bud stood at the desk, sneering at the procession.

  Once they reached the street, one of the troopers asked, “We done here?”

  “Yeah, for now. Thanks.” Callahan dismissed them with a wave.

  Once safe in the Suburban, Roxanne let out her breath in a frustrated whoosh. “He thinks I’m lying.”

  “It’s hard for him to accept the accusations against his deputy . But don’t worry. The evidence is in your favor.” Callahan kept his voice full of confidence.

  “Evidence? What evidence?”

  “First, the troopers found Danny O’Malley hiding in his mistress’s basement. Once Danny found out Luke was dead and Taggart in custody, he babbled like a salesman at a trade show. His story pretty much matches yours. Said Taggart ordered Luke to get rid of you. He was blown away to hear you made it out of there alive.”

  “That little twerp. He ran instead of trying to help me.”

  “Yeah, well, Danny isn’t known for his courage.”

  “So?” Roxanne asked.

  “So?” Callahan answered with a quizzical look.

  “You said first. Is there more?”

  “Yeah, second, the forensic team found several bullets in the bedroom. They can match them to Luke and Taggart’s guns.”

  “Luke never fired a shot.” Roxanne breathed. “His gun was still in its holster. I shot his hand as he tried to reach for it.”

  Callahan’s eyebrows rose. “That would have been a difficult shot.”

  “Yeah, the laser sight helped a lot.” Roxanne grinned at him. “I’m good but not that good.”

  “Well, we still have Taggart’s bullets. Lots of them.”

  “Doesn’t help me with Luke.”