by E B Corbin
"Hey, did you get the notice about the open house from Kate Williams?" Sylvia called out.
"Kate Williams? I don't think I know her." Roxanne stopped in mid-step and turned to face her friend again.
"She opened that B&B on State Street and is having an open house at the end of the month. Her yard backs up to yours on the alley. I'm sure she must have sent you an invite. Everybody on the block got one. Haven't you seen her or her son around?"
"I saw a little blond boy sledding in the alley the other day, looked to be about four or five."
"Sounds like Jonathon. He's a real cutie. His mother is a doll, too." Sylvia stood on tiptoes to reach the cabinet where she kept the cereal.
"I don't think I've seen her around," Roxanne said.
"She's fairly new in town. Moved here from Philadelphia before Christmas." Sylvia folded her canvas bags as they talked. "Seems like a nice person but she's got her work cut out for her if she plans on making a living from a B&B."
"That big blue Victorian behind my place?"
"That's it. It needed a lot of work. I hope she makes a go of it because it could add value to the neighborhood." Sylvia's part-time job as a real estate agent made her keenly aware of what was good for the local market. "I think her brother's been helping with the repairs. He's the newest police officer in town. Have you met him?"
"Pete Sterling?"
"So you met Pete," Sylvia said with a smirk. "He's not a bad looking guy. We could sure use some fresh faces like his around here."
Roxanne decided against saying how she had met Pete. Sylvia would hear about Seth Hollister's death through the grapevine before too long; no need for her to break the news. "Agreed," she told her friend. "Now, I'd better get out of your hair and let you get on with the groceries."
"Rats." Sylvia snapped two fingers of her right hand. "I was hoping to get some inside dope on Pete."
"Just met him this morning. Don't really know him." With that, Roxanne tried for the front door again.
"Wait! Wait," the other woman called to her. "I have a favor to ask before you run off."
Roxanne stopped and sighed. If Sylvia needed a favor, she should comply. It was the least she could do after withholding the news about Roxy. A trace of guilt the size of a golf ball lodged in her stomach. She needed to control it before it grew into a basketball.
"A good friend of mine, Ruthie Bartoletti...well, I guess it's Ruthie Nelson now. Anyway, she has a problem she needs to talk to a lawyer about. I've known Ruthie since second grade when her family settled here after leaving Italy. Since my name was Baker, we were always stuck together in seating arrangements and in lines-- alphabet, you know."
"So what can I do for her?" Roxanne asked. She didn't want to brush her off, but she was in a hurry to reach Callahan and didn't need to know the life story of her friend.
"Well, it's a bit...um...awkward," Sylvia stuttered. "It involves her daughter."
"What does she need a lawyer for?"
"She wants to file a civil case against three boys from the high school." Sylvia grabbed the box of cereal and stared at it. "I didn't commit to anything, but I'd like for you to talk to her before you make any decision about it."
"I haven't dealt with a civil case in years," Roxanne told her. "I don't think I'd be much help."
"Just talk to her. She's had a rough life. See if there's some way we can help. That's all I ask."
"Okay, set up an appointment," Roxanne gave in.
Impatient to leave, she waved and continued out the door. All thoughts of Sylvia's friend fled by the time she crossed the street. She noticed her phone lit up on the hall table and saw two missed calls from Callahan. Relieved she could connect with him on that pretext, she tapped the buttons.
He picked up on the first ring. "Roxanne? I've been trying to reach you. I just got some new information and we need to talk more about this whole Roxy thing."
"Did you find her?"
"No, but I found out that five guys connected to the IRA flew into JFK last week. Two of them have been under surveillance since they arrived but the other three slipped through our net. I'm concerned about Roxy and I don't know if it's safe for you to stay at the house."
"I'm pretty sure I'm safe... at least for now." Roxanne glanced around the empty hallway. "But I need to show you something I found in the mail when I got home. I guess you can call it a sort of, um, a ransom demand."
"For Roxy?"
"Yeah. They want five million dollars."
He whistled at the other end. "Where are you supposed to get that kind of money?"
"They think I know where the missing IRA money is. Look, we need to meet somewhere so I can show you the note, but it can't be here. They might be watching the house and it would look suspicious if you came back so soon after dropping me off. And I can't come out to Chester's again. I might be followed."
"Did they warn you not to involve the authorities?"
"I'm pretty sure it's implied."
"Do you have any thoughts on where to meet?" Callahan asked.
After a few seconds of reflection, Roxanne said, "What about the diner? I'll go in first and you can follow in half an hour. We can talk in the office where we can have some privacy."
Callahan agreed. "We've got to eat, don't we?"
She laughed. "There's that too."
"Sounds like a plan. I'll fill Chester in. You be careful," Callahan warned before he disconnected.
Roxanne kept one eye on the road and the other on the rearview mirror as she drove to the diner. She didn't notice any obvious tail, but then if they were professionals she might not.
The nearly full parking lot gave her a modicum of relief as she parked in the slot set aside for the owner near the rear of the building. She welcomed the cold sunshine on her face as she made her way to the front entrance, keeping alert for any sudden movements.
Relieved when no one tried to grab her or run her over, she pushed through the door into the warmth and clamor of Roxy's Diner. Booths and tables filled with customers greeted her. Delighted to see so many patrons enjoying their meals, Roxanne realized the eating establishment was as popular as ever.
The first time she had walked into the place, hunting season had been in full swing. Between the hunting aficionados and a few truck drivers, the stools at the counter had also been overflowing. She expected the diner to empty out when hunting season ended and she was glad she'd been wrong.
It had been at least a few weeks since her last visit. Everything looked the same--homemade pies filled the circular container behind the counter and the individual cereal boxes were still in alphabetical order. The only difference was that "Yesterday" now played softly in the background.
Previously, the Wurlitzer against the far wall sat dark and quiet. Now, lights flashed, music played and the changing colors of the distinctive arch reflected against the wall.
Snukie waved with one hand while picking up a cheeseburger platter with the other. "Haven't seen you in a while," she shouted over the din. "Something wrong?"
"No. I didn't think the jukebox worked, that's all." Roxanne pointed to the corner of the room.
"Oh, that's a long story." Snukie grabbed a ketchup bottle to add to the food order. "Give me a minute, I'll tell you about it."
The stream of yellow, orange, and green lights fading into each other mesmerized Roxanne. "Yesterday" continued to play when Snukie joined her. "The Wurlitzer always worked," she told her. "It's just that Patti unplugged it because Luke complained that he didn't like the music choices."
"Huh?" was all Roxanne could manage.
"A couple of salesmen came around trying to get Roxy to change over to a new digital music system. But she insisted on keeping the original 45s. So all of the music is from the 70s and early 80s. Most people are happy with the choices, but Luke hated it." Snukie shrugged before continuing. "Anyway, I plugged it in last week and it's been making music ever since. I haven't had any complaints about the selection, although I am get
ting a little tired of hearing the Beatles."
"That could be considered blasphemy by some," Roxanne teased.
"Yeah, don't I know it," Snukie sighed. "But I'm adapting. There are some other tunes people play besides John and Paul. I now know most of the words to 'MacArthur Park' and I don't even like the song. So, long answer to a short question--the jukebox works, it always has."
Roxanne wished she could get that kind of answer to all her questions. "Everything else is good?"
"Great! We had a full house for lunch with a twenty-minute wait for tables. People wanted a taste of the new menu items. And my cousin Stacy loves working here. She and Janice can both handle that stupid credit card machine and I'm getting used to managing all of it."
"Sounds like things are working out. Sorry I haven't been around more." The diner held bad memories for Roxanne from when Patti was so determined to take over. She now realized she had let the past drama affect her feelings about the diner. Even though she had her doubts about Snukie at first, Roxanne had to admit the young woman had taken over the reins without missing a beat. "I'm going to run into the office for a while, if that's all right with you."
"Hey, it's your office. You don't even have to ask. Do you need me to go over anything with you?" Snukie glanced around the room. "I can probably get away in about ten minutes."
"No, I'll be fine. I'm not checking up on you. I'm expecting a friend. You know John Callahan?" Roxanne asked.
"Do I know him? You bet. He's hard to miss. Until Pete Sterling showed up in town, Callahan was the best looking guy for miles. And he still holds his own." Snukie winked at her. "I'll gladly show him to the office when he gets here."
- 5 -
Roxanne barely recognized the office that Patti used to occupy. The space remained utilitarian and dimly lit, but the desktop was clear of junk and the rest of the horizontal surfaces had papers neatly stacked in labeled bins. She forced herself to sit in the chair, trying not to think about her last visit here. After just a few moments, she jumped to her feet. Her body remembered only too well the struggle in this room that had almost cost her life. A shudder ran down her spine as she moved to the door. Hopefully, Callahan would get there soon.
As if to fulfill her wish, voices came from the kitchen. She poked her head out to find Callahan greeting Leonard, the cook, with a manly side-hug and back pat.
"I didn't realize you two knew each other." She hid her discomfort with a smile. Evidently, Callahan knew the diner staff better than she did.
She didn't even know Leonard's last name--barely recognized the waitresses, and knew zip about their lives or families. Snukie Hansen had been running the diner, making the schedules, putting in the food orders and paying the bills for the past couple of months. Roxanne didn't even know if Snukie was married or not. It was probably just as well if Roxy came back and took over; at least Roxanne wouldn't have to face her own shortcomings.
She had never given the diner, or anyone connected to it, a fair shake. That wasn't who she wanted to be, but then she realized she didn't have a clue as to who she was or what she wanted to be. She was tired of feeling lost as the world spun around her; reacting instead of being proactive. It was past time for her to get a handle on her life. But this latest turn of events--Roxy's disappearance and the ransom note--had brought new complications.
Callahan's voice cut into her roaming thoughts.
"Lenny and I sort of grew up together. His family owns the place on the other side of Chester's. Every time I was in the area, I managed to sneak off and hide in his tree house. I haven't seen him in what?" Callahan looked to Leonard for confirmation. "Ten, fifteen years?"
"Longer than that," Leonard said. "I think we were both still in high school."
"God, time flies." Callahan shook his head. "You married?"
"Fifteen years, now," the other man answered. "You remember Tamara Ward?"
"Yeah, pretty girl. Had a ton of boyfriends, too. What's she see in you?" Callahan teased his friend.
"Don't know, but it's been working pretty good."
"Kids?"
"Two. A boy, fourteen and a girl, eleven. What about you? You ever settle down?"
In spite of herself, Roxanne took a step closer to hear Callahan's response over the din.
He cleared his throat. "Never found the right one. Work always seemed to get in the way."
"You still one of those special agents at the State Department?"
"Yeah, but not for long. I'm finishing one last assignment before I retire."
"Must be nice to be able to retire in your forties," Leonard said. "'Course I don't know what I'd do with myself if I wasn't cooking something."
"You have a talent for it, I'll say that," Callahan told him before turning to Roxanne. "You don't know how lucky you are to have this man in the kitchen."
"Are you kidding? The diner wouldn't survive without him, let alone remain so popular." Roxanne smiled at Leonard.
"Thank you, ma'am." Perfect white teeth gleamed against his mahogany skin. "I can't take all the credit, though. Roxy sure had a way with people." His eyes went wide and he sucked in a breath. "No disrespect to you, of course."
"No offense taken. I haven't exactly been around enough to screw things up."
"Nothin' wrong with an absentee owner." Leonard carved a tomato into perfect round slices without even looking at it and added it to the lettuce and onion waiting on three buns. "Long as you're happy and all's well here."
Callahan slapped Leonard on the back. "It's sure been good to see you."
"You too," the cook said before turning to flip three burgers on the grill.
"You wanted to see me?" Callahan asked after prodding Roxanne with his elbow.
"Let's go in the office." Roxanne realized she'd just had the longest conversation she'd ever had with the man responsible for keeping the diner patrons coming back. She wondered how she could have been so indifferent to a business that not only put cash in the trust account but also food on her table. A thought occurred to her before she reached the doorway. She turned around so quickly that Callahan walked into her. They grabbed each other to keep from falling and stayed close a little longer than necessary. Her pulse quickened before she stepped back and broke the spell.
She looked over his shoulder to avoid his eyes. "I forgot to ask Leonard something."
Callahan kept his hand on her waist. It would be rude to shake it off; besides, she liked the feeling. "Hey, Leonard, could you use a dishwasher?"
Leonard looked at the machine at the far side of the kitchen. "The one we got works just fine."
"Not that, I mean as in a person to load the machine and empty it when it's done."
Leonard tilted his head in thought. "That would be a time-saver...but I get along well enough as it is."
"What about an all-around helper? Someone who can not only do the dishes but help out with the food preparation when you're busy?"
Leonard frowned at her. "You think I can't do the job?"
"No, no. I think you're doing a fantastic job. I just thought you might like a little help." Roxanne wanted to swallow her tongue. Her attempt to make Leonard's life easier turned into a crashing failure. "Think about it. If you want some help, I'm sure we can work something out."
"I think Lenny's got it." Callahan took Roxanne's arm and led her out of the kitchen into the office. The smile he had plastered on for his friend dipped as he shut the door. "That could have gone better."
"Tell me about it," Roxanne said. "I have no business trying to run this diner. I don't have a clue what to say or do."
"Maybe just let it run itself. Everyone seems to be doing a good job." Callahan steered her around the desk, guided her into the chair and kissed her forehead. "You're doing fine. Now, show me the note."
"It's in my bag." Roxanne dug through the items in her messenger bag--her hairbrush, pack of gum, her wallet, a pen, and some loose coins--before coming up with the envelope.
Callahan frowned as she expla
ined how she found the envelope on the floor mixed in with her daily mail. "I didn't know what to do at first. I asked Sylvia if she saw any strangers around my place but she was out most of the day and didn't see anything. She told me to ask the Hendersons."
"Did you?"
"No, I hardly know them."
"It probably won't do us any good to find the person responsible for delivering it anyway." Callahan slid the note from the envelope and scanned it. "Whoever delivered it probably couldn't tell us where Roxy was being held. The kidnappers could have used a kid or anyone else willing to sneak onto your porch for a bit of excitement."
"They're asking for so much money." Roxanne fiddled with the folded sheet of paper, picking it up then setting it back down. "Where in hell would you hide five million dollars?"
"If they're asking for it, it must be close by. I don't think anyone at State realizes how much has been floating around for years, just waiting for the IRA to pick up." Callahan paused, watching her finger the note. "And Taggart's been next to useless. He's good at whining and trying to place the blame on someone else. Wants to make a deal, but so far, he's come across as nothing but a second-rate thug."
"He didn't say anything?" she said without looking up.
Callahan grunted. "Unless he's lying, he doesn't have a clue what the leaders are planning or even who they are. He gave up his contact in a heartbeat. Turned out to be a low-life bar owner that Interpol already has on their radar. If we didn't have the scumbag on murder charges, we'd have to let him go."
"What about the fake passport?" Roxanne asked.
"That's enough to get him kicked out of the country. Doesn't get us anywhere trying to stop whatever it is they're planning." Callahan lifted his shoulders and shook his head.
"So, you have nothing," Roxanne said.
Callahan rubbed his forehead. "We need a break. It sure would be nice if we knew why they needed the money now. There's speculation that with the whole Brexit thing, the IRA sees another opportunity to get out from under British rule. Northern Ireland leans toward staying in the European Union but maybe lacks enough incentive to break free without some strong encouragement."