Too Many Secrets

by E B Corbin

  “Chester!” someone called. “Good to see you. Where have you been? We miss you at our poker games.”

  Chester laughed. “I’ve been a little busy.”

  “I see you got yourself a younger girlfriend. She what’s been keeping you busy?”

  Roxanne dropped Chester’s arm, uncertain how to react.

  Chester never blinked. “Wrong again, as usual, Seth. This is Roxanne Boudreaux, Roxy’s niece. And my grandson found her before I did.”

  “Ah, Roxanne,” Seth swallowed his embarrassment. “Good to meet you. Your aunt was one fine lady.”

  Roxanne nodded, smiled at him. “Nice to meet you too.”

  Seth turned his attention to Callahan. “Is that John? We haven’t seen you in ages. Didn’t recognize you. How’s your father?”

  “He’s good, Seth.”

  “Where is he now? Hard to keep track of you guys.”

  “In Ecuador, at the consulate.”

  “He like it there?”

  “Yeah. Says the weather is great and the locals are friendly. You don’t find that combination in too many places anymore.”

  “You can say that again. Well, you’d better go on inside. They’re like a bunch of sardines in the viewing room.”

  Already moving away, Chester opened the door as he gestured for Roxanne to precede him. She paused inside, waiting for Chester to lead the way. Several people stood blocking their path, all strangers to Roxanne. When they recognized Chester they moved aside, allowing him and his entourage free access.

  Chester nodded to many of them, shaking out-thrust hands or giving a smile as he passed. He guided them through the arch which led into the main viewing area like a politician fishing for votes. He stood so tall Roxanne had a tough time seeing where they were going. She stumbled along in his wake, a baby otter following its leader.

  When Chester stopped, she halted in time to avoid running into him. Then Callahan ran into her. His arms wrapped around her to regain his balance. In that second, she wished they were anywhere else.

  It seemed as if everyone in the room wanted to greet the former ambassador, shake his hand. Their inquiring eyes scrutinized the unknown woman trapped between Chester’s strong back and Callahan’s strong arms.

  Once she thought they should be somewhere near the casket, she peaked around Chester to get her bearings.

  “Roxanne!” came a voice over Chester’s right shoulder. “It’s so kind of you to come. I didn’t realize you were still in town.”

  Ah, they were waiting to offer condolences to the widow.

  Sylvia looked tired. A young woman Roxanne assumed to be her daughter stood by her side, steering the visitors to keep the line moving. Sylvia pulled away from her daughter to give Roxanne a hug. “You didn’t have to come.”

  “I wanted to tell you how sorry I am about Ralph.” Roxanne fought the urge to fidget or shy away. “I didn’t know him, but I feel connected through Roxy.”

  Callahan stepped from behind Roxanne. “I’m sorry for your loss. He was a good man.”

  “Thank you, John. He was always good to me.”

  As Sylvia’s daughter guided Chester toward the casket, Roxanne and Callahan needed to follow. She leaned in to give Sylvia a hug.

  The woman whispered in her ear, “I need to talk to you. Can you stop by the house?”

  “Sure, I’d be happy to. Maybe this weekend?”

  “Sooner if you can make it. Presuming I can get away from my daughter. She loves me, I know she does, but she’s becoming a tyrant. Tomorrow after the funeral would be good.”

  “Wouldn’t you like to spend time with your family and friends tomorrow?”

  “We’re going to the church basement after the interment. It’s easier than having them follow me home.” Sylvia’s sad smile grew wan. “I hope that doesn’t make me sound like a terrible person. I’m grateful for everyone’s concern, but I need to be alone.”

  “Fine, how about around two?”

  “Noon is better. I don’t think I can stand much more sympathy after tonight.”

  “OK, noon it is. I’ll see you then.”

  Roxanne broke away before she received any more disapproving stares, annoying coughs from behind. She found Chester surrounded by older women in the far corner, away from the line of those waiting to pay their respects. Callahan stood outside the circle talking with three younger females, presumably the daughters and granddaughters of those surrounding Chester. She felt like a fifth wheel as she slipped into the hallway. The press of people entering the viewing room prevented a civilized exit so she nudged her way through the throng with her head down.

  She wished she’d never agreed to come with Chester and Callahan. They belonged here, she didn’t. As she inched her way toward the main entrance, a hand settled on her back.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  “Trying to sneak away?” Callahan whispered in her ear.

  “Just trying to breathe. Didn’t want to drag you or Chester from your admirers.”

  Callahan laughed. “Believe me, Chester would be happy to escape from his groupies. A single man in a small town is a sure claim to fame. Chester hates it. He seldom leaves the farm anymore. Can’t even go to buy groceries without a line of women stalking him.”

  “I noticed you have your share of groupies too.”

  “Are you jealous, Ms. Boudreaux?”

  “Of course not! Let them have their fun.”

  “It’s no thrill for me.” Callahan's hand rested on the small of her back. “I prefer saving your ass from the all the trouble you seem to find.” He raised a hand in placation. “I know, I know, trouble finds you.”

  “Oh, be still my heart,” Roxanne quipped. “You’re such a sweet talker.”

  They made their way onto the porch, empty now with everyone packed inside the funeral home. Callahan took her arm and led her to a shadowed corner. “We can wait for Gramps to extricate himself from his bevy of worshipers. He shouldn’t be long. I thought he was right behind me.”

  “Maybe you should check on him.” Roxanne shivered involuntarily as a gust of arctic air blew through the open porch from the parking lot.

  Callahan stepped closer to block the wind. “I’d rather stay here.” He placed her hands inside his topcoat while massaging them to warm them up as his blue-gray eyes scrutinized her face.

  Her back hit the funeral home wall. She had nowhere to go, nowhere she’d prefer to be. As she raised her head to him, he lowered his lips to hers. The kiss was gentle at first, gradually growing more intense until she felt as though she would melt from the electricity between them. She tightened her arms around his neck as he moved closer, his body heat adding to hers. She tilted her mouth to allow better access, forgetting they were standing in a dark corner of a public space.

  A throat cleared behind them. “I’m sorry to break this up. We should be going.” Chester stood peering past them to the parking lot.

  Roxanne tried to end the embrace, but trapped between the wall and Callahan’s smiling face, she couldn’t move. With his eyes frozen on her face, Callahan said, “Gramps, your timing sucks.”

  “I do my best. Now unless you desire to be the talk of the town tomorrow, you’d better follow me to the car.”

  Callahan stepped back, grabbing Roxanne’s hand as they followed Chester down the steps. As far as Roxanne could tell, no one had seen them in the corner. No one except Chester. Oh God! She felt a blush start at her neck and move to the top of her head. Damn Irish genes, they were a dead giveaway. At least, no one would notice in the dark. She tried to free her hand from Callahan’s grip, but he held on until she nestled into the passenger seat.

  “I’ll order the pizza,” Chester announced as Callahan pulled away from the curb. “I’m starving.”

  “Great idea.” Roxanne hoped her voice sounded normal. “I could eat, too.”

  Callahan glanced at her, his lopsided grin giving away his thoughts.

  From the rear, Chester said, “I understand Sylvia w
ants to see you tomorrow.”

  How did he hear about that? Amazing how news travels in small towns. “Yes, around noon.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Callahan offered.

  “I don’t know. I think she expects me to come alone.”

  “She won’t mind,” Chester assured them. “She’ll be happy to see both of you. She needs the distraction.”

  “It will be perfectly safe,” Roxanne told Callahan.

  “I’ve heard those words before.” Callahan pulled off the main road onto the farm’s lane.

  Roxanne felt a headache coming on—another reminder of her three-day-old concussion. “We’ll see,” she mumbled.

  While Chester built a fire against the draft that came through even the most well-insulated older buildings, Callahan opened a bottle of wine, pouring three glasses. Roxanne took hers with a small “Thanks”. She wished she could find a way to skip dinner. But as a guest in Chester’s home, she wouldn’t be rude. They settled in the kitchen when the pizza arrived. Her mouth watered at the scent of tomato sauce, cheese, and pepperoni and all thoughts of skipping dinner vanished.

  They made small talk while they ate. Roxanne tried to appear unaffected by the brush of Callahan’s arm when he pulled his chair closer to her. Even the brush of his hand when he passed her a second slice caused a surge of heat throughout her body. Her emotions ran wild. She wanted to pick up where they left off. Perhaps it was the wrong thing to do, but she barely controlled the urge to touch him. She had to quit thinking about it.

  A lengthy swig of wine distracted her only long enough to realize that drinking wasn’t the answer. She shouldn’t guzzle alcohol! She had to calm her reactions and her nerves another way.

  When nothing except grease-stained cardboard remained of the pizza and the wine bottle gave up its last drop, Roxanne stood. “I’ll clean up. No argument.” She eyed Chester. “Then, if you don’t mind, I’d like to turn in. This week is catching up with me.”

  “Good idea,” Chester agreed. “I’m a bit tired myself.”

  Callahan said nothing merely sat at the table grinning at her with a pleased look. Roxanne wanted to knock the smirk off his face, but she couldn’t do it without being obvious. Instead, she cleared the table.

  She stacked the plates in the dishwasher, then asked, “Do you recycle?”

  “No pickup out this far.” Chester had the same lopsided smile as his grandson. “Stick the box out on the back porch. I burn the cardboard when no one’s looking.” He stood, stretching his old bones. “Now, if you will excuse me, I hear a good book calling my name.” He walked into the study leaving Roxanne and his grandson alone in the kitchen.

  “Well, good night.” Roxanne dried her wet hands, acutely aware of Callahan at the kitchen table, his chair tilted back on two legs.

  He grabbed her arm as she passed by. “Hey, it was only a kiss.”

  “I know.”

  “It could be more.” At Roxanne’s horrified gasp, he laughed. “Not here, tonight, but there will come a better time and place.”

  “I… know,” she stammered.

  He pulled her down giving her a quick peck on the lips. “Now, get some sleep.”

  ◆◆◆

  Sleep? Who could sleep? Roxanne tossed, turned to one side then the other, under the down comforter. No way did she need to start something with another man. Less than a week ago, she’d sworn off them altogether. Richard with that blonde bitch, Roxanne’s ex-husband, Andre, with his mistress, men couldn’t be trusted. Hadn’t Callahan been preening under the attention of all those women tonight? As good-looking as he was he must have women falling all over him. She’d be crazy to become involved. Determined to set Callahan straight in the morning, she dropped off to sleep.

  But she had no control over her dreams. Callahan starred in them, no matter how hard her conscious mind attempted to push him away.

  She woke the next morning with a sigh, wishing her dreams could continue but knowing such thoughts were foolhardy. By the time she’d showered and put her jeans back on, she decided to erase all romantic thoughts of Callahan from her stubborn head. She had a lot to think about, enough decisions to make. The first item that came to mind involved resolving her reaction to the partnership offer. Did she take it or tell them to shove it? If she told them thanks, but no thanks, what would she do? If she accepted it, would she regret it?

  Then she had to review the will and decide what to do about her inheritance: the farm, the diner, the house, and the cabin, more than she’d owned in all her life. The responsibility struck her as too much too handle.

  Last but not least, she had to deal with Patti, and even if her involvement in Luke’s death didn’t come back to haunt her, the injuries Patti sported might seal her fate. Was Patti going to continue with her lies and press charges against Roxanne? If so, which story were Bud and the chief going to believe? If they charged her with a felony—she could lose her license to practice law or worse. At the thought of fighting for her freedom, all the other issues became minor hurdles in the strange path her life had recently taken.

  When she went downstairs to flee from her rampant emotions, Chester sat alone in the kitchen reading the newspaper. A welcome respite from the turmoil in her brain.

  He looked up when she entered the room. “Did you sleep well, my dear?”

  “Great. That bed is ultra-comfortable.”

  Chester smiled in reverie. “Yes, my late Kathleen, bless her, insisted we have the best mattresses and bedding in all the bedrooms, even though they were empty most of the time.”

  “Smart woman.”

  “She was,” Chester concurred softly. “The love of my life.”

  Love. The last thing Roxanne wanted to talk about this morning, especially with Callahan’s grandfather. She poured coffee before joining Chester at the table. “So anything exciting in the news today?”

  “It’s all the same drivel, I’m afraid. Shootings in Chicago, bombings in the Middle East, and, I swear, every other article is about so-called fake news. There’s even talk about the next presidential election. We’ve barely gotten over the mess of this one, and they’re ready to start again. I don’t get it.” The old man shook his head in disgust.

  “Neither do I, but let’s not talk politics or religion this morning. Too many other things to worry about.” Roxanne offered to re-fill Chester’s coffee with a finger pointing at his cup.

  “I’d rather not talk about either topic at any time.” Chester declined the coffee with a shake of his head and folded the paper to the crossword puzzle. “It can get a person in a lot of trouble.”

  “That’s the truth.”

  “So what are your plans for today, other than seeing Sylvia?”

  “Haven’t really thought about it. I need to get back to Pittsburgh; I’ve been away from my job far too long. Besides, I’m running out of clean clothes.”

  “Have you heard from Robbie Walters this morning?”

  At first, Roxanne did not associate the name Robbie with Chief Walters. When she did, she replied, “No, that’s another worry.”

  “He’ll come around. But Patti’s a different story.”

  “Do you think she’ll try pressing charges against me for throwing a book at her?”

  “Doubtful. She’d have to explain a lot, like where did she get the gun and what was she doing in Roxy’s house?”

  “I wonder when I can leave town. I can’t stay here forever.”

  “I’m sure it will all work out soon.”

  “Have you seen my messenger bag around? I should call the office.”

  “It’s on the hall table,” Callahan answered as he came into the room.

  Roxanne avoided looking at him as she scrambled past to retrieve her phone. “Thanks.”

  She saw two missed calls when she turned on her phone. One from her mother, the other from an area code she didn’t recognize. She knew she should call her mother, but she wasn’t up to it yet. She pressed the button to return the unknown call.


  “Griggs and Stratton. How may I help you?” a woman’s professional voice inquired.

  “Uh, um, I saw a missed call on my phone from this number. I’m not sure what it’s about.”

  “May I have your name?”

  “Roxanne Boudreaux.”

  “Please hold a moment. Sam Griggs placed that call.”

  A click, strains of muted music, then another click. “Ms. Boudreaux, Richard Andrews contacted me on your behalf. Sorry it took so long to touch base.” Sam Griggs wasted no time on superfluous greetings.

  “That’s all right,” Roxanne had forgotten about her distress call to Richard. “I’m not positive I need a lawyer yet.”

  “That’s what I wanted to tell you. Richard gave me enough information to make a few inquiries this morning. I talked to the sergeant in charge at the Pennsylvania State Police. According to him, the feds took over the case and, as far as he knew, you were not a person of interest any longer.”

  Roxanne let out a relieved sigh. “Thank God.”

  “I tried to find out where the case stands with the feds. They’re not as forthcoming with details.”

  “Did you talk to the local police?” Roxanne asked. “They’re the ones I’m concerned about since they’re not too thrilled with me.”

  “I did. I talked with the chief. He told me his hands were tied. As much as he’d like to throw you in a cell, there’s nothing he can do. Nevertheless, it wouldn’t hurt be careful around him. He’s angry about his deputy’s death.”

  “Believe me, I’m aware of his fury.” Roxanne paced to the window then back to the hall. “So I don’t need to stay in Oilville any longer?”

  “All pertinent law enforcement agencies have my number. They’ve been informed I’m representing you. If they wish to contact you for any reason, they have to go through me first.”

  “Thank you so much. You did much more than I expected. I really appreciate it. I’ll text you my address for the bill.”

  “No charge. I owe Richard.”

  “Please, I insist. You made calls. You spent time on this. Send me an invoice. With the news you’ve given me, I’ll be happy to pay it. Besides, I may have an assault charge filed against me and need your assistance again.”