by E B Corbin
Roxanne wasn’t certain what caused the tears: her love for Luke or the realization he caused her to lose the diner. Either way, Roxanne’s predicament remained the same. “Sounds like she cared for you.”
“Luke was a good man,” Patti exclaimed. “His friends weren’t exactly saints, but hell, who is?”
“Did you know about the IRA money?” Roxanne figured she might as well go for broke.
“What IRA money?” Patti failed to sound surprised.
“The money in the freezer.”
“I told him and told him it wasn’t a good idea.” Patti lowered her head, looking at her hands. She raised her eyes to Roxanne. “Anyway, how did you find out about the money.?”
“It’s why Luke killed Roxy.”
Patti gasped. “My Luke wouldn’t shoot Roxy in the back. You’re lyin’!”
“I wish I were. Luke admitted it yesterday. I overheard him talking to Dolan, Doyle, and Dan O’Malley.”
“The three D’s— they’re stupid shitheads— all of them. Luke and I used to fight about him hangin’ with them all the time.”
“They found the money hidden in Dan O’Malley’s cabin. Bags of it. They were spending it like water, even though it wasn’t theirs.”
“Those dumbasses. Probably why Luke was freakin’ out about findin’ the missin’ bag. We put it in the freezer, but when we went in the next day, nothin’s there. He accused Roxy of takin’ it, but I told him no way. Roxy and me were together until we locked up the night before.” Patti dragged her fingers through her hair. “Dammit, why couldn’t she leave it alone?”
“She had a tough time with the IRA. If it had been anyone else, she might have let it go. But she couldn’t. They killed my father.”
“Oh, you’re just as full of shit as the three D’s.”
“It’s true. My father was Irish. I was born in Ireland.”
“If you never knew Roxy, how the hell would you know?”
“My mother—well, I guess she’s really my aunt—anyway, Roxy’s sister explained it when I was in the hospital.”
“Bullshit.” Patti bent over to scoop up the gun.
Roxanne sighed. Since any chance for escape disappeared with the gun resting in Patti’s hand, Roxanne might as well get it all out. “Were you aware Luke got cash from Dan O’Malley every month?”
“He did not! He woulda told me! I’m not gonna listen to any more of this crap about my Luke. You killed him, now you’re tryin’ to make him out as some kind of criminal. Just shut up. Shut up about Luke, you hear!”
“Okay, calm down.” Roxanne saw the futility of trying to change Patti’s vision of Luke. Better to tackle Patti’s desire to shoot her. “Why don’t you put the gun down? Perhaps we can work out something about the diner. Here’s the new will. Do you want to see it?”
“Nah, I can’t understand all the crap. What makes ya so sure it’s the latest one? What if Roxy changed her mind again? Maybe she felt bad about cuttin’ me out.”
“I doubt it. You were still with Luke, weren’t you?”
“Of course I was! How many times do I hafta tell ya, we loved each other!” Then Patti’s voice dropped from shrill to deadly. “But I got an idea from our little talk here. You feel so bad about killin’ Luke that you can’t stand to go on. All you need to do now is write a nice little suicide note.”
“Are you kidding? I’m not doing that.”
“Worth a try.” Patti cocked her head, seemed to ponder out loud. “A note in your handwritin’ would be ideal, but a computer will do.”
“Patti, please, let’s talk this over.”
“Nope, done talkin’.” Patti stood rounding the corner of the desk.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
As Patti rounded the desk, she stepped on a pen, losing her balance for an instant. It proved enough of a distraction for Roxanne to grab the heavy Ulysses book and swing it at Patti’s head, with all the wrath and strength of an avenging angel.
The corner of the book smacked the waitress in the forehead with a resounding thunk, slamming her backwards. Bright red blood trickled down the side of her face. She looked stunned, sinking to the floor as her eyelids fluttered once or twice before closing. The gun slid from her slack fingers.
Roxanne sat staring at her would-be attacker. She kicked the revolver under the desk as she dropped to her knees. God, she hoped Patti wasn’t dead. She could never live with herself if she’d killed two people in two days. She felt for a pulse, letting out a sigh of relief when she found it beating strong.
Now she needed to restrain Patti while she remained unconscious. Roxanne scattered papers until she came upon a roll of clear packing tape in a plastic dispenser. At three-inches wide, it would do. She made loops over Patti’s hands until she feared she wouldn’t have enough left for Patti’s ankles. When she grabbed Patti under her shoulders to prop her against the wall, the waitress groaned but didn’t open her eyes. As fast as she could, Roxanne wrapped tape around Patti’s ankles until the roll ran out. Then she checked the bindings, hoping the tape would hold.
Patti let out a small moan while Roxanne groped under the desk to retrieve the weapon. When she turned, gun in hand, Patti watched her with a dazed expression. Blood trickled from the gash in her forehead. “What the hell did you hit me with?”
“A book. One of Roxy’s favorites.” It seemed fitting.
Patti lifted both hands to wipe away the blood and succeeded to smear it on her cheek.
“I’ll find something to clean that up.” Roxanne hesitated in the doorway, looking back to confirm Patti remained on the floor.
The waitress slumped against the wall, her eyes half-closed. She looked desolate, empty, like a lost puppy. A wave of pity washed over Roxanne for the woman who had twice sought her death. She ran paper towels under water and grabbed some dry ones from the counter. Patti never moved while Roxanne wiped the congealed blood from her cheek and forehead.
Roxanne staunched the oozing from the deep cut. “It’s the best I can do.” She sat back on her heels. “I think you might need stitches.”
Without a word, Patti stared at her through bleak, gray eyes.
Roxanne refused to comfort her. Looking away, she tried to figure out what to do next. The local police would never believe her. She didn’t know how to contact any state police knowledgeable about the situation.
So she called Callahan.
He answered on the second ring. “Where are you? Have you been shopping all this time?”
“I ran into a slight problem.” She kept her voice casual, showing no hint of her growing panic.
“At Walmart?” His voice rose in disbelief.
“No, I stopped by Roxy’s house to pick up something. I’m here now, and Patti was here when I arrived.”
“I’ve been looking all over for her. Never thought of Roxy’s place. Is everything all right?”
“Pretty much. I’m fine. But Patti’s not too good.”
“I’ll be right there.”
Before she could say anything in return, Roxanne heard the click, signaling dead air.
“You didn’t call the police.” Patti scoffed. “You called your boyfriend.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
“Coulda fooled me.” Patti moved her bound hands to her head with care. “My head hurts. How ‘bout an aspirin or somethin’?”
Roxanne studied Patti. Did the woman need a pain-killer or was she trying to trick Roxanne into leaving the room so she could escape? Patti’s red-rimmed eyes held a lot of malice, but Roxanne doubted she could pull herself up from the floor with her hands and ankles tied. Still, Roxanne’s gut told her Patti might try something given half a chance. “Later,” she told her.
Within ten minutes Callahan arrived, bringing the cold air into the room, leaving slushy footprints in the hall. He knelt next to Patti for a quick peek at her forehead. “You’re going to have a scar.”
Patti shrugged without comment.
Callahan turned to Roxanne. �
�What happened?”
Roxanne answered in deadpan: “I killed Luke. Patti loved him and wanted me to pay. She also wants ownership of the diner. If I died, she thought she could accomplish both. This is her gun.” Roxanne held the revolver out to Callahan, happy to relinquish control.
“Put it on the desk.” He didn’t touch it. “We don’t want more fingerprints on it.”
Roxanne stared at the weapon, realizing she should not have picked it up. Too late now. She set it down then turned to him. “We talked about the IRA money. She’s not involved in that mess.”
He raised an eyebrow. “That remains to be seen. Right now, we need to call the local police. They’ll keep an eye on her and get her stitches while we decide what to do with her.”
“I thought about calling the locals, but do you think Chief Walters and Bud will come? They’re not my biggest fans.”
“We don’t have a choice. I’m kind of short-handed at present. Gabe and Ron left with Taggart this afternoon. The other team is not here yet to pick up the money. We can’t leave her tied up indefinitely.” Before Roxanne could protest, he pulled out his phone. “Chief, I’m at Roxy O'Hara’s house. We have a situation here, I could use some help.” Callahan nodded at the response. “As soon as you can get someone here.” He hung up. “Walters is sending Bud.”
“Wonderful.” Roxanne scoffed. “Can this get any worse?”
In less than five minutes, a police cruiser flew up the street, its sirens wailing, lights flashing. The brakes squealed as Bud stopped behind Callahan’s SUV. He jumped from the car, leaving the door wide open, unsnapping his holster at the same time. He approached the door, his hand resting on his gun. “What seems to be the problem here?”
Callahan led him into the office and pointed to Patti. “She needs medical attention.”
Bud threw Roxanne a dirty look. “Did you do this to her?”
“She wanted to shoot me!” Roxanne’s voice rose to match his.
“Seems like everyone in the damn state is trying to shoot you,” Bud jeered. He moved to Patti, bending to inspect her bound hands. “What’s this?” He turned to Roxanne with accusation.
“I told you she was going to shoot me. I had to restrain her somehow.” Roxanne shrugged. “All I had was mailing tape.”
“Jesus Christ,” Bud muttered. He pulled a hunting knife from his belt, sawing at the tape.
“Thanks.” Patti nodded in Roxanne’s direction. “She’s a crazy bi—”
“That’s enough,” Callahan growled. “You better have a good explanation for all this.”
“She killed Luke, and now she’s tryin’ to kill me.” Patti played the victim like a pro. “Look at me. She beat me and tied me up. What more proof do ya want?”
“What I don’t want is to turn this into a he-said, she-said situation.” Callahan raised the revolver. “Is this your gun?”
Patti lowered her eyes, glaring off to the side. “No, never saw it before in my life.”
“So, it won’t have your fingerprints all over it?”
“Of course my fingerprints are on it! I tried to grab it from ‘crazy woman’ over there.” Patti raised her freed hands toward Roxanne. “She knocked me out with it.”
Callahan inspected the revolver. “Funny, I don’t see any blood on it. But I do see blood on the book over there.”
“Whatever.” Patti huffed. “I’m tellin’ ya she tried to kill me.”
Bud glanced from the gun to the book and then to the gash on Patti’s head. “Patti, I know Luke’s murder has been tough on you, but you can’t take the law into your own hands. Now, let’s cut you loose. I’ll drive you over to the ER so they can fix up the gash on your head.” Bud helped her stand.
Roxanne thought Bud might be more astute than she gave him credit for. He didn’t believe Patti’s wild story. She noted, however, he had used the word murder when referring to Luke’s death. The jury was still out on whether Bud could or should be trusted. “Take the book with you,” she told Bud. “The blood will be a match to Patti.”
“There ya go.” Patti exhaled. “Proof she assaulted me. Arrest that bitch!”
Roxanne slumped into the chair behind the desk rubbing her temples. “Christ, this is a nightmare.”
Bud hesitated, as if unsure what to do.
Callahan stepped in. “Don’t you worry about Roxanne.”
Patti cried out, “You! You’re not gonna do anything. You’ll take her side, no matter what!”
“Patti, I can’t arrest anyone right now.” Bud tried to sooth the agitated woman. He took Patti’s arm guiding her to the door. “We need to take care of the gash on your head.”
“I’m f-fine,” Patti sputtered. “I wanna press charges. Assault and battery. Assault with intent to kill. Ain’t that what they call it?”
“We’ll talk about it after you’re fixed up.” Bud stopped in the hall angling back toward the office. “I would again advise you not to leave town, Ms. Boudreaux.”
When she heard the front door shut, Roxanne ran her fingers through her hair while turning to Callahan. “This is insane. What am I going to do?”
“Nothing. Chief Walters and Bud have been working next to Luke for years. Sure, they’re upset he’s dead, but they know his record. They must have doubts about him. They’re just not ready yet to admit it.”
“Maybe,” Roxanne sighed.
Callahan could be right, then again, he worked with the federal government. His take on the loyalty small town cops had for each other could be way off base. But she could be wrong too. Bud seemed undecided about the veracity of Patti’s story. At least he didn’t arrest Roxanne on the spot. Of course he didn’t arrest Patti either.
She couldn’t think about it anymore. Luke was dead. Nothing she said or did would change the fact. Patti was in Bud’s custody for now. Roxanne needed to move on, to remove every various, awful scenario from of her head. She surveyed the mess from Roxy’s desk noticing a bit of blue sticking out from under the papers.
She pointed. “By the way, I found a copy of the will.”
“That’s good, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, I’ll put that worry out of my mind at least.”
“What’s it say? Is it all yours?”
“I haven’t had time to read it yet.” According to Ralph Patterson, she was now a wealthy woman. She should be happy, ecstatic. Why did she feel like crying? “What am I going to do with it all?”
“You’ll figure it out,” Callahan’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He checked the screen. “It’s Gramps. He’ll want to know where we are.” Callahan pushed the button to accept the call. “Hey, Gramps, we’re on our way. Be there in ten minutes.” Callahan paused, listening. “No, we’ll pick up something when we’re done at the funeral parlor… Pizza sounds good. See you soon.” He hung up. “You ready to go?”
“Oh, God, the viewing. I forgot all about it. I want to grab a piece from Roxy’s jewel box. You go on ahead. I’ll catch up.”
“No way, I’m not leaving you alone for a minute.”
Roxanne smiled to herself as she mounted the stairs. These past few days had turned her world upside down. She felt lost, floating in unfamiliar space, drifting in an alien environment. Although, when Callahan was around, he kept her grounded, safe from all the lurking dangers. She found the silver chain and ran downstairs.
At the last minute, she signaled for Callahan to wait. She hurried into the study and grabbed the will, tucking it into her messenger bag.
◆◆◆
Chester paced the sitting room while they changed into more appropriate attire for the evening viewing. Both Callahan and Chester were waiting when Roxanne joined them. She’d taken extra care to style her hair and add make-up to cover her bruises. By the time she came down the stairs, she felt almost normal.
“You look great,” Callahan remarked as she entered the room. He wore a dark suit, blue dress shirt, with a subdued navy-print tie. She’d never seen him dressed up before.
“Back a
t ya,” she told him. “And, oh my, look at you, Chester.”
The old man stopped pacing to smile at her. In his dark suit and white shirt, he appeared every inch the diplomat. His silver hair, slicked from his face, made his high cheekbones stand out adding to his distinguished aura. He wasn’t a man to easily dismiss.
“Let’s go,” Chester commanded. “We’re late.”
Roxanne detected the slight irritation of a man used to giving orders and being on time. She grabbed her peacoat and followed them out to a waiting Lincoln, no Suburban for a formal occasion.
As she started to climb in the back, Chester gently shouldered her out of the way. “You sit in front. I don’t mind being chauffeured.”
Inside, the car was toasty warm. Once they pulled onto the road, Roxanne closed her eyes. She drifted in a gray haze, halfway between sleep and awake. Before she knew it, they were slowing at the funeral home. Cars overflowed the parking lot, some double-parked, blocking the entrance.
“Looks like a full house,” Callahan observed. “I’ll drop you two off at the door and find a place to park.” As the words left his mouth, a car pulled out across the street. Callahan swung a U-turn sliding into the space with ease.
Chester spoke from the rear seat as he unbuckled his seatbelt. “The parking fairy is on our side tonight.”
Roxanne tried her best to snap out of the lethargy caused by her short nap, but her wits were not at their strongest.
When she stumbled getting out, Chester caught her hand to steady her. “Are you all right, young lady?”
“Just a bit groggy.” She shivered as a frigid wind blew her coat open. “I’ll be fine by the time we cross the street.”
Chester offered his arm. Roxanne took it with a smile. They made their way to the crowded front porch where men stood to the side, smoking cigars.