Too Many Secrets

by E B Corbin

  “You have the missing cash?” Roxanne sat stunned.

  “I do. I’ve been in touch with one of my contacts in Ireland to find the best way to return it without alerting the IRA. When John told me about the shootings at O’Malley’s cabin yesterday, I saw the error of trying to keep the cash secret. I intended to do the right thing; instead I caused a bloodbath.”

  “By no means was it your fault,” Callahan cut in. “Those bastards would have killed each other over that money sooner or later, no matter what. Taggart doesn’t need an excuse. He’s murdered people on a whim. His Interpol file is full of suspicions. They couldn’t make any of it stick.”

  “I agree.” Roxanne could not let Chester blame himself. “You’re not responsible for any of it.”

  “Thank you, both, but you can understand how I feel culpable. If I had come out publicly about the cash, there would have been no argument over what happened to it.”

  Roxanne tried again to convince Chester it wasn’t his fault. “Taggart knew not all the bags were there, and he threatened Dan O’Malley’s family unless he turned them over, but he shot those other two out of pure meanness, nothing to do with the money. And Patti told Luke to get rid of me because Roxy left me the diner. Again, the missing money wasn’t relevant. You caused none of that.”

  “Well, Roxy was shot because of it. I’m sure of that.”

  Callahan turned to face his grandfather. “You believe Luke did it?”

  “Virtually certain. Luke was an Army sniper. He had the skill and knowledge to shoot a person in the back from a distance. And whoever hit Roxy remained well hidden and far away, else I would have seen him. I might be old but my eyesight is excellent.”

  “That bastard.” Callahan sat a clenched fist on the table. “Luke kept his mouth shut about the missing cash. He let those guys take the blame without batting an eye. Doyle and Dolan weren’t the sharpest tacks in the toolbox, but they didn’t deserve to die.”

  “They did not,” Chester agreed with a nod. “They might not have, if only I’d spoken up about finding the money.”

  “Not your fault,” Roxanne said. “You’re right about Luke shooting Roxy. I overheard him talking to those three other guys about it when I was trapped in the cabin. One of them mentioned something about Roxy and Luke didn’t deny what he did.”

  Chester remained glum. “Not that I ever had any doubt about it. All the more reason I should have made the discovery of the money public knowledge.”

  Callahan shook his head. “It would have been too late to save Roxy. No way could you have known what Luke planned to do.”

  “That’s what I’ve been telling myself,” Chester admitted, “although I don’t quite believe it.” He glanced at Roxanne. “But I felt you needed to hear the truth about why Roxy was in the woods that morning.”

  Roxanne took the old man’s hand. “You could have been killed too!”

  “But I wasn’t. The coward never expected me to be there. I’m sure it unnerved him when I showed up.”

  “If Luke shot Roxy, then poked his nose into the state police investigation—” Roxanne paused to gather her thoughts.

  Chester nodded. “Exactly the reason I had friends from DC pick up Roxy’s body to transport her there for an autopsy. I acted like a broken-hearted old man who needed closure and pulled strings to do it my way. Luke never had the least suspicion I was really trying to prevent him from covering up his action.”

  Callahan asked, “So you’re both positive Luke shot Roxy?”

  Roxanne nodded giving Chester the floor.

  “As sure as I’m sitting here today,” Chester told his grandson. “Except there is no proof aside from what Roxanne heard. It’s too flimsy to stick. He tried to make it appear like a hunter shot her by mistake. That’s happened once or twice, but few hunters can sneak out of the woods without being seen. Plus, not many around here are crack shots. The round that hit Roxy wasn’t a stray shot. It was right on target.” Chester paused and scratched his ear. “Since Luke’s dead, we might be able to match the bullet to one of his rifles.”

  “You shouldn’t involve yourself in this any further.” As if Callahan realized he sounded too bossy, he softened his voice. “I’ll slip the extra bag in with what we already recovered. Nobody will realize it wasn’t there from the beginning. And I’ll make sure we confiscate all of Luke’s guns.”

  “I can take care of myself,” Chester muttered, moving to the refrigerator to pour himself a glass of milk.

  “I don’t doubt it,” Callahan told him. “But Taggart isn’t the only one they’ll send to retrieve the money. When he doesn’t return with the cash, somebody else will show looking for it unless they’re convinced it’s all confiscated.”

  Chester mulled over his grandson’s words. “Headlines in the Boston Globe should do it. Maybe even the Herald. I can make that happen.”

  “I really wish you’d stay behind the scenes as much as possible.”

  “Sorry, son, I can’t do that.”

  “Can you do it for me?” Roxanne asked. “It’s bad enough I killed a man, It would be horrible if something happened to you because of this.”

  “Not to worry, young lady. I cover my tracks rather well.”

  “I don’t like it,” Callahan muttered.

  “I don’t either,” Roxanne added.

  “You two will just have to accept it,” Chester told them. "I’m older than you. My wishes should be respected."

  “Fine.” Callahan reluctantly gave in. “Get me the money bag at least.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  When Chester went to retrieve the bag, Roxanne asked, “Gabe and Ron saw how many bags were in the cabin, didn’t they?”

  “They’re busy keeping an eye on Taggart. Counting the cash is my responsibility.”

  “You have it here?”

  “Gramps has a safe. The bags are secure until DDS sends specially trained agents for them.”

  “What about Patti? We still aren’t sure she’s involved.”

  “She was tangled up with Luke, so she has to know something. I’m on my way now to talk to her.”

  “Then I’m coming with you.”

  Callahan raised both hands in a stop gesture. “I don’t think so.”

  “I didn’t ask for your permission. If you don’t take me with you, I’ll only follow you.”

  “Roxanne, be reasonable. I can’t do my job while worrying about you.”

  “What’s to worry about? You’re going to the diner, aren’t you? It will be full of people.”

  “There were people all around yesterday when Luke kidnapped you.”

  “That’s different.” Roxanne tried her best to sound convincing. “Although I wish I still had my gun.”

  “See, precisely why I don’t want you there.”

  “Fine, I’ll go to see Sylvia. Could be she found a copy of the will.”

  Callahan thought it over and finally nodded. “Sylvia’s been busy with Ralph’s funeral arrangements. If I were you, I wouldn’t bother her about the will right now. There’s a viewing at Simmons Funeral Home tonight. I’d like to pay my respects. If we both go, Sylvia might mention the will.”

  “I forgot about that.” Chester joined them in the living room. “I need to go too.”

  Callahan grinned. “Then we can all go together. When I get back.”

  “I don’t have the proper clothes,” Roxanne protested, pulling at her sweater sleeve.

  Chester patted her arm. “You can stay here while we go. I’ll find a diplomatic way to ask Sylvia about Roxy’s will. We won’t be gone long, and you should be fine alone until we get back. You never even met the man, so I don’t think Sylvia would be hurt if you aren’t there.” He held up a paper sack filled with twenty dollar bills. “Do you want me to put this in the safe with the other bags?”

  “For now.” Callahan turned to Roxanne. “You should listen to Gramps. You don't need to go. Sylvia will understand.”

  “This sucks. I want to go.
Is there a place in town that sells women’s clothing?”

  “There’s a Walmart out by the highway,” Callahan offered.

  “Walmart? Shit, if that’s my only choice, I’ll see what I can find there.”

  “It’s better than nothing.” Callahan snickered.

  They left at the same time in separate vehicles. Callahan led the way to the Walmart, then waved to her as she pulled into the parking lot. She found a black skirt, dark green pullover, black tights, and some inexpensive black boots. In the jewelry department, she searched for something to dress up the top but couldn’t bring herself to buy any of the cheap necklaces on display. The only other option was to borrow something from Roxy’s jewelry box. Roxanne remembered seeing some nice pieces, including a thick silver chain, which would add a dressy touch to the green pullover. She’d swing by Roxy’s house on the way to Chester’s.

  ◆◆◆

  Eastern Standard Time caused darkness to fall around five in the evening in late November. By the time she arrived at Roxy’s place, the streetlights glowed in the gloom. Roxanne hated the disappearance of light so early in the day. She could run in, grab the necklace, and be back at Chester’s before they left for the seven o’clock viewing.

  When she touched the doorknob to insert the key, the door opened. Damn, had she forgotten to lock up when she left with Callahan?

  The house stood dark and lonely except for a faint glow coming from Roxy’s office in the rear of the structure. She must have overlooked turning off the desk lamp too.

  As she advanced toward the office, she heard shuffling in the shadowed living area. She stopped, listening in the silence. Perhaps she imagined the sound. It could have been a mouse, she hoped not a rat. Shrugging, she moved again, taking care to step as quietly as possible.

  Then she heard the shuffling again along with quiet footsteps. Mice scurried; they didn’t take one slow step at a time.

  Her heart kicked, her back stiffened. “Who’s there?” Her voice came out in a croak.

  No answer.

  She bit back panic, even though her heart pounded faster than a Porsche flat-six 911 at Daytona. Nowhere to hide in the hallway. Nothing to use as a weapon. Her only choice: to get out of there—fast.

  When she turned, ready to sprint to the door, Patti Smith emerged, grinning like a fool, holding a revolver pointed at Roxanne’s head.

  “Jesus!” Roxanne jumped back, clutching at her chest, in a useless attempt to calm her thundering heart.

  “Scared ya, huh?” Patti scoffed. “Shoulda jist shot you in the back.”

  “What are you doing here?” Roxanne sounded more in control than she felt.

  “Jist lookin’ around.” Patti sounded nonchalant. “Thought you might show.”

  “Did you need something from me?”

  “Yeah, I need to see the bitch that shot my Luke in cold blood.”

  “He wanted to kill me. You know it; you told him to do it.”

  “Sure, but that didn’t work out, did it?”

  “I never meant for him to die. I had to stop him from killing me.”

  “Shut up and move, unless you want me to shoot you here. Into the office, I wanna eyeball that will you claim gives you the diner.”

  “I told you I don’t have it. Luke must have taken it.”

  “If he did, he didn’t give it to me. Said it was only a copy. The original must be around here somewhere.” Patti motioned with the revolver which seemed too big for her small fingers to even reach the trigger. Her nervous movements made Roxanne cringe. Patti’s hands trembled from the weight of the weapon, as her feet shuffled in place. Her eyes twitched, right to left, up and down. “Now, move.”

  Roxanne turned and took small steps toward the office. She had no doubt Patti would as soon shoot her as look at her. The bouncing gun seemed primed to go off by accident if not intent.

  In the dim light from the desk, she saw papers strewn about, some on the desktop, some on the floor. All the drawers were open, empty. Pens, paper clips, and rubber bands lay scattered in with the papers on the floor. The heavy leather-bound copy of Ulysses hung half-off the desk.

  “You seem to have already looked everywhere.” Roxanne turned to face the waitress. “How many copies of the will do you think are lying around?”

  Patti blinked her red-rimmed eyes. “More’n one. I can’t find the damned thing. I figure you hid it somewhere. Get it. Now!”

  “Patti, I honestly have no idea where it could be. I’d give it to you if I could.”

  “You little bitch, ya come into town with your big-city clothes and fancy-ass lawyer attitude and think you’re better than us. All you care about is yourself.”

  “That’s not true.” Roxanne tried to talk the jittery woman down. No one knew they were here. Callahan would not come along to save her this time. Why the hell did she stop for a stupid necklace? “Perhaps there’s a hidden drawer like the one in the desk at the office. Did you find one?”

  “Looked. Didn’t see one.” Patti swung the big gun toward the desk. “You think you can find one, be my guest.” While Roxanne fumbled around inside the middle drawer searching for a catch, Patti mumbled, “Hurry up, hurry up. I gotta get outta here.”

  “Why don’t you sit down?” Roxanne pointed to a leather chair facing the desk.

  “Yeah, right. You’d like that, wouldn’t ya? Make me feel like we’re friends or somethin’. Well, for sure we ain’t buddies—never will be.”

  “I… I thought you might get tired standing.” Roxanne explained hoping to calm the frantic woman. It didn’t work.

  Patti sniffled, wiping her nose on the sleeve of her coat. “I loved Luke, and he loved me. I hope you’re happy. You’re alive, and my Luke is lyin’ in the morgue. Well, I intend to change all that.”

  “It won’t bring Luke back.”

  “I know, but at least I’m doin’ somethin’ to even the score. I can’t figure out how I’ll go on without him.”

  “I’m sorry. I truly am. I didn’t want him to die. I’ve never killed anyone. It doesn’t make me happy; it makes me sick at heart.”

  “Pfhh, like ya got a heart. You don’t give a damn about Luke or me. I seen your type, you only care about yourself.”

  Since nothing else had worked, Roxanne tried bribery. “I’d like to make it up to you.”

  “And jist how would ya do that? Give me the diner? It’s supposed to be mine.” Patti shook her head in disbelief. “Why would Roxy leave it to you of all people?”

  “I wondered about it myself, too… until I found out Roxy was my mother.”

  “Your mother? C’mon, Roxy never talked about a daughter, never said anything about having a family. You can’t expect me to believe your crazy story.”

  “I can hardly believe it myself, but it’s true. I never knew Roxy existed until I got a letter from Ralph Patterson.”

  “What kind of a daughter don’t care ’bout her own mother? My momma was no saint, believe me. She crabbed at me all the time and told me I’d never amount to nothin’, that I was stupid an’ no-good. But I still miss her… sometimes.”

  “I never met Roxy, yet when I look at her things, I wish I did.” Roxanne rubbed her forehead. “It makes me sad.”

  “You can’t fool me. You’re lookin’ at her stuff, puttin’ a price tag on it, and countin’ the cash.”

  “No, I’m trying to figure out what to do with it all. I’m a little overwhelmed.”

  “You’re full of shit,” Patti cried. “Enough talkin’. Find that will.”

  At some point during their conversation, Patti had lowered the heavy revolver, dropping it to her side. When she raised it with a jerk her nervous finger accidentally pulled the trigger.

  The gunshot cracked.

  Roxanne jumped, her hands flying to her ears, as she tried to regain her sense of equilibrium.

  Patti smirked. Her lips moved though not a sound pierced through the ringing in Roxanne’s ears.

  When Roxanne jerked at the gunsho
t, her knee banged the bottom of the open desk drawer. Now, the wooden interior base sat cock-eyed, exposing a half-inch bin underneath. Folded papers with the obligatory blue binding lay jammed in the tiny space with two envelopes.

  Patti’s voice still droned, though Roxanne could not decipher the words. Her ears felt stuffed with cotton.

  She held up a finger to quiet the woman while examining the letters. One addressed to Patti; the other to Roxanne’s mother. Both sealed and labeled “To be opened in the event of my death.”

  “THIS IS FOR YOU!” Roxanne shouted, the only way to cut through the buzzing in her brain.

  Patti stared at the envelope in Roxanne’s outstretched hand then lowered her weapon to grab for it.

  Roxanne saw a brief glimmer of a chance to get out of the room alive. If she ran as fast as she could, she might escape in one piece while Patti clung to the letter. Instead her limbs froze. Her legs seemed encased by concrete while a ninety-pound anvil held the rest of her body down.

  Patti’s eyes filled with tears again. The gun slipped from her fingers as she looked at the envelope. “What’s this?”

  Roxanne shrugged. “Don’t know. I just found it. Open it and find out.”

  “You stay right where ya are.” Patti pointed a finger at Roxanne, not aware she no longer pointed a weapon.

  “Not going anywhere,” Roxanne told her, raising her arms in submission.

  She eased back into the chair, trying not to stare at the revolver on the floor. Could she make it around the desk to get the gun? Doubtful. And she’d never make it out the door, down the hall and into the truck before Patti picked it up. Another precarious plan— if not impossible. She waited while Patti read the letter.

  Finally, Patti looked up, the tears streaming down her cheeks. “She said Luke was bad for me. She told me to break if off with him a dozen times. I jist didn’t wanna do it. I thought she was jealous, I had a man and she didn’t. She said long as I kept Luke and his friends around, she didn’t think I could make the right decisions about the diner. This says, if things changed before she died, she wanted me to have the diner. I deserved it as long as I started thinkin’ straight.” Patti sniffled dropping the page into her lap. “Hell, I loved Luke! Why couldn’ she see that?”