by E B Corbin
"My son? Which one?" he asked in confusion. "Did Richard Jr. get another speeding ticket?"
"No, this is about Sean," she told him. She didn't know how many children he had and realized she should have done some research into the family before confronting him. Too late now; she had to brazen her way through this.
"Ah, Sean, our youngest--a great football player. He could make it to the NFL, but, of course, he has too many other opportunities for that to be of any real interest."
"That may be." Roxanne did not believe a word of his boasting. "But I'm here because he raped a classmate."
"What? Is that what this is about? He told us one of the girls was making false claims, crying rape, and not to be surprised if we heard about it."
"I should think that, as the mayor of this town, you'd be more concerned about your son's behavior and how it reflects on your office."
"Sean has never been in any serious trouble. I fail to see how such an obviously false rumor can get a foothold." Cummings picked up his glasses and cleaned them with a handkerchief from his breast pocket. "If this is some kind of a shakedown, you'll have to look elsewhere." He glared at her.
"It's not a shakedown. I'm giving you notice that we intend to file a case for personal injury against Sean."
"Injury? That's absurd! This is obviously a poor attempt at extortion." Cummings' face flushed. "I'll see you disbarred and run out of town if you try to embarrass my family!"
"I'm sorry you feel that way." She kept tight control of her emotions. "We'll see you in court, then."
"Oh, I doubt that, young lady. Your case will never see the light of day."
"Suit yourself." Roxanne shrugged. "I thought you'd appreciate being forewarned."
"I won't be blackmailed by the likes of you or any of your petty clients," he growled. When his face turned crimson, she feared he could have a stroke. He got to his feet and slammed his hands on the desk. "Get out!"
"I'm going. Just be aware that we will be filing a civil suit next week." She backed up a few steps before pivoting slowly and walking out of the room not bothering to shut the door.
The maid stood by the front door, ready to usher her out. Roxanne stopped and smiled at the diminutive woman. "Your jefé is not a nice person," she said, before the woman hurried her through the door.
Once in the SUV with the heater blasting, Roxanne took a deep breath. Her hands shook too hard to put the car in gear. She sat for a moment to calm her nerves, while searching for options.
Not only was there no hard evidence, the plaintiff in this case wanted to avoid publicizing what had happened. Roxanne didn't blame Sandy, but the girl had to accept that she was a victim and needed to speak out.
As she eased along the circular drive and started toward the main road, she noticed a black pickup slipping around from the back of the house. Even though it followed her at a distance, she paid it no attention.
Dusk had fallen while she spoke to Cummings. The lower branches from the queue of trees lining the passage to the highway forced her to slow down and flip on the headlights. She breathed a sigh of relief when she turned on Route 62 and thought nothing of the truck turning in the same direction.
Thankful that traffic on the state road was light enough to ignore the speed limit, she concentrated on driving. She saw the headlights of a vehicle rapidly approaching from behind. Not again, she thought, remembering the last encounter she'd had on a similar country road. She pressed on the gas as much as she dared, unfamiliar with the handling of Callahan's vehicle.
The headlights came closer and pulled into the oncoming lane to pass. Roxanne relaxed her grip on the steering wheel and her foot on the gas as the pickup roared past. Her nerves began to settle after an adrenalin rush.
When she crested a small hill, she saw the pickup sitting diagonally on the road. It blocked both lanes, as if it had done a donut on black ice. High beams shone directly into Roxanne's eyes. She pumped the brakes, hoping she didn't skid as well. Surprisingly, her tires held fast to the roadway.
When she came to a stop a few feet before the truck, a row of five auxiliary lights attached to a light-bar on the roof flicked on, casting a glare over the entire area in front of the vehicle. Glad that any traffic behind her would be forewarned, she stepped out of the SUV to see if the occupants needed help.
While her right hand shaded her eyes, her left hand slid into her coat pocket and groped for her phone. Without looking, she hoped to hit the right button to record any conversation that might develop. She knew from other attorneys that many times it was hard to prove who was at fault in a traffic accident. Cell phone photos and recordings sometimes helped determine the truth. Even though there had been no collision or damages, she wanted to be protected.
Both doors to the pickup opened simultaneously as two shadowy figures emerged behind the lights. Pulled-up hoods shaded their faces and she couldn't make out their features, only noticed that the passenger was shorter than the driver.
She gasped when they stepped into the light. Both wore Guy Fawkes masks as they moved in unison toward her. By the time she jumped back in the SUV and locked the doors, they stood in front of her car. Both brandished long knives; one flashed what looked like a switchblade while a dangerous looking nine-inch blade glinted from the other's hand.
"Don't think you're going anywhere, bitch," the taller one said, waving his knife. "Hard to drive on four flat tires."
The shorter one pranced around, thrusting his pelvis and grabbing his crotch in lewd gestures. "Yeah, come on out and join us." He whooped in derision as he tossed his knife from hand to hand.
Roxanne threw the SUV into reverse in an attempt to make a U-turn, but the taller figure threw a hook attached to a short chain over her front bumper, securing the SUV to the pickup. Her tires spun until she inhaled the stench of burnt rubber and took her foot off the gas. She could hear them laughing through the hideous masks.
"You need to learn to mind your own business, cunt," the taller one cried. "Stop sticking your nose where it doesn't belong!"
At first Roxanne wondered if these were the McCarthy brothers but there was no trace of an Irish accent. She threw the gearshift back into Drive and the car jumped forward a few inches before she stomped on the brakes. If she couldn't turn around she might get lucky and knock one of them down as long as they stayed in front of the SUV. However, they both jumped out of the way, lifting their knives in warning.
"Okay, bitch, if that's how you want to play it, we'll show you who's boss!" the shorter one shouted. "You were too stupid to get the first warning; we'll make sure you get this one."
Roxanne rolled down her window an inch, just enough to be heard clearly. "What do you want? I have some cash, you can have it."
"We don't want your money, bitch, we want to teach you a lesson," the other one growled. He started toward the door, pulling on the handle as if he thought he could open it. "You might as well come out 'cause if we have to drag you out, you'll be sorry."
The smaller one laughed. "Yeah. You won't be able to sit for a week!"
The car rocked even though there was no way they could get in without breaking a window. Neither seemed to consider that possibility and Roxanne realized they weren't hardened criminals, just idiots trying to act bad. Without thinking, she grabbed the handle and jerked the door open fast and hard, knocking the taller one to the ground.
"Hey! What the hell!" the shorter one cried and started around the hood. The taller one sat up quickly, causing his friend to stumble against him. When Roxanne tried to shut the door, the figure on the ground grabbed the bottom and held fast. Okay, she thought, the one on the ground might be bigger and stronger than she was but he was at a disadvantage on his knees holding the door.
Before he had a chance to adjust his position, Roxanne jumped out of the car and side-kicked him in the head--glad for the ten years she'd spent in kickboxing and tai-chi classes. The smaller one came at her in a run, leading with his right fist. As he started to swi
ng, Roxanne grabbed his arm at the elbow and used his momentum to slam him into the side of the car while she transferred all her weight to her right foot. He fell motionless to the ground. The skewed mask revealed a teenager's face. Roxanne had never seen Mike O'Malley before, but if she had to bet, this was him.
The taller figure started to rise with a growl. His mask hindered his movement so, in the split second he took to strip it off, Roxanne kicked him under the chin with the side of her boot. He grasped his throat, choking, but continued to rise. Roxanne kicked at his knee and felt a resounding crunch. She hadn't wanted to do it; he just wouldn't stay down. She figured she'd just ended Sean Cummings' football career.
"Jesus Christ! Oh my God! It hurts!" Sean croaked before he started to cry, collapsing on the ground and cradling his knee.
Roxanne stood in the road, ready to defend herself again, if necessary. She felt like crying, too, but her attention was diverted by an approaching car.
- 20 -
The oncoming vehicle pulled in tight behind her SUV. Roxanne tensed preparing for more trouble. Maybe the boys had reinforcements or the IRA had again tracked her down. Her heartbeat kicked up another notch and her breathing became rapid, shallow. She didn't know if she could handle any more.
Callahan jumped out from the passenger side. His eyes stayed on her as he ran towards her. "Are you all right? What happened here?"
"I'm... fine." Her voice came out in a croak. With the danger over, she became aware of the adrenalin pounding through her veins. "Everything's... under... control."
"You don't sound like it." He wrapped his arms around her to curb the shaking that had started when she realized the ordeal was over.
She clung to him tighter than a survivor clinging to a life preserver. When her breathing slowed and she felt the tension begin to ease, she remained in the cocoon of his arms. She hardly noticed Tiffany and Pete who were examining the teenagers on the ground.
"That bitch attacked us!" Sean growled, forgetting to continue his moans. "Arrest her!"
Ignoring him, Pete turned his attention to Mike O'Malley who lay unmoving on the ground.
Peering over Callahan's shoulder, Roxanne watched the officer feel for a pulse. She slumped in relief when Pete looked at her and nodded. "He's okay but he'll have a lump on his head. Do you want to explain?"
"Well, he, uh, he kind of ran into the edge of the car roof." As she spoke, Roxanne's voice gained strength and she squeezed Callahan's hand in gratitude before she faced the teens.
"She's lying," Sean screeched, his voice hoarse from wailing about his knee. "She threw him against it!"
"Oh?" Pete raised his eyebrows. "He's twice her size and he just let her do it? He didn't fight back?"
The boy pointed at her with a shaky finger. "She's a girl! He wouldn't hit a girl."
"So explain what happened here." The sarcasm in Pete's voice was obvious to everyone except Sean.
"We were just driving down the road when that bitch swerved into our lane and almost crashed into us. When we got out to complain, she attacked us."
"So she swerved into your lane but her vehicle is still in the correct lane and yours isn't." Disbelief saturated Pete's words.
"She, uh, she must have skidded back into her lane," Sean said. "And the truck fishtailed when I threw on the brakes to avoid her."
"Then why no skid marks?" Pete asked.
"I don't know," Sean muttered. "I've got good tires?"
"Still should be skid marks," Tiffany joined the conversation. "You're lying."
"Am not!" Sean squeaked. "She attacked us."
"So one woman took on two bruisers and got the best of you?" Pete chuckled now.
"Uh, um, like I said, we didn't want to get rough with her because she's a female."
"I see." Pete scratched his cheek. "Mind explaining what that mask is doing around your neck?"
Sean grabbed at the Guy Fawkes mask and ripped it off. "That thing? It... it was... we wore them for Halloween and were just fooling around with them before she nearly hit us."
"Halloween? And you're playing around with them in the dead of winter?" The police officer didn't try to hide his skepticism. "I suppose you only put them on once you stopped the truck?"
"Yeah, uh, yeah, that's right." Sean obviously didn't understand the implication. He groaned and grabbed at his leg. "I'm hurting here; I need a doctor! Arrest her and call an ambulance, right now!"
Pete made no move to call 911, instead he inspected the chain linking the SUV to the truck. "What's that for?"
"Quit with the questions," Sean screamed. "My knee is killing me!"
"We need some pictures before we move the truck out of the way," Pete said.
"Why?" Sean screeched. "I told you what happened."
"You're making some pretty heavy accusations here and we need proof before we do anything." He turned away from the teenager. "Tiff, can you get some shots of all this?"
Tiffany held up her phone. "Already on it. I need to get a few more angles but I don't see any skid marks to indicate the truck swerved."
"That's 'cause I'm a good driver." Sean revised his earlier statement. "We didn't need to swerve."
"And these knives." Tiffany carefully placed one in a plastic evidence bag. "They belong to you?"
"Sure," Sean said. "We grabbed them for protection. You never know what some crazy lady will do."
Roxanne released a long sigh. The little bastard had an answer for everything. She hoped the cell phone recording was clear enough to be of some use. "Dammit," she grumbled. "That's a load of bullshit."
"I know." Callahan patted her shoulder. "His story doesn't fit what we're seeing."
"John, can you help me get this gutless wonder to the car?" Pete called out. "Tiff will move the truck; then she and Roxanne can follow us."
While Callahan and Pete placed one of Sean's arms around each of their necks, Tiffany took one last look around. Just as she unhooked the chain, Mike O'Malley groaned and opened his eyes. "Shit," he whimpered, "my head hurts."
Callahan returned to help the teen up and lead him to the car where Sean sat moaning. As Mike stumbled forward, he made a wide berth around Roxanne. "Don't let her come near me," he whined. Callahan hurried him into the backseat next to his friend and joined Roxanne.
"Will you be all right? Should we have a doctor look at you?" he asked.
"I'm fine," she said. "Just keep me away from those two lying bastards or I might hurt them again."
He smiled. "That's my girl."
Tiffany parked the truck on the side of the road and jumped into the driver's seat of Callahan's SUV. Roxanne was just as glad to relinquish the keys since her hands still shook. She wanted to thank Tiffany for her help, but the words stuck in her throat.
Bud Mercer stood outside the emergency entrance to the hospital when they arrived. "Well, hell," Tiffany said with disdain. "He didn't waste any time getting here."
"I'm used to it by now." Roxanne held up her cell phone. "And I have proof this time."
"Callahan was right. You sure do manage to get into one pickle after another." Tiffany tried to hide her smile by turning her head.
Roxanne almost laughed. "Yeah, but I'm getting better at it, don't you think?"
"You're learning," the female agent said. "I can't believe you actually overpowered those two goons and recorded their threats."
Was that a hint of respect in her voice? Roxanne could hardly believe it.
"I sure as hell hope the recording is clear enough to understand," Roxanne said as she, too, suppressed a smile.
"It's better than nothing. Your word against theirs might not hold too much weight."
For the first time Roxanne felt a slight kinship with Tiffany. Maybe she was wrong about her. But she had no time to dwell on it as Bud approached the car.
"I need to get your statement," he snarled at Roxanne. "Be interesting to hear what you have to say for yourself this time."
"I think I'll let your friends say it
themselves." Roxanne held up her cell phone. "It's all on here."
The officer frowned. "It's illegal if you recorded their conversation without their knowledge."
"Not under the circumstances," Tiffany broke in. "Better brush up on the regulations."
Roxanne turned to Tiffany in surprise. The agent actually stood up for her. If her first impression of the woman was wrong--and Tiffany was as good an agent as Callahan said--she'd have to apologize. One day.
"Let's go inside," Roxanne said to Bud. "You can hear it for yourself."
Callahan and Pete were talking to the receptionist at the emergency room desk. They both turned when she walked in with Bud gripping her arm as if he were afraid she would bolt.
"You got here fast." Pete frowned at Bud.
"Heard there was some sort of fracas out on 62. Can't let that kind of thing slide or people will think I'm not doing my job." Bud jerked his head at Roxanne. " Should have known she'd be involved. Gotta find a quiet place where I can question her."
"I'm coming with you," Pete said.
"Me, too," Callahan chimed in as he approached the group.
"Now, hold on a minute," Bud protested. "I'm questioning Miss Boudreaux in an official capacity. You two will have to wait until we're done."
"Always better to have official backup at an interrogation." Pete kept his tone neutral to avoid antagonizing Bud. "Consider me your partner for the time being."
Bud looked like he wanted to protest, but then thought better of it. "Fine," he sighed. "But I don't see any reason for the feds to be included."
Callahan and Pete exchanged a glance before the agent gave in with a brisk nod of his head. "I'll check on Sean's condition."
"Let's find a place where we won't be interrupted." Bud hitched up his gunbelt and puffed his chest.
"The receptionist gave me a key to the doctor's lounge." Pete smiled his thanks to her across the waiting area.