Too Many Lies

by E B Corbin

  "How? I can't put it on myself."

  "Wrap it around your wrists and tighten it with your teeth."

  She did as she was told only left the tie a little loose on her wrists--not enough to be visible but sufficient to give her a little wiggle room. The trick didn't work. The Irishman stepped close, pulled the tie tight and stepped back in one fluid motion. As he shoved her into the back of the van and shut the door, she remembered too late the words of her self-defense instructor.

  If you're being coerced, never go willingly into the other person's car.

  - 25 -

  Roxanne frowned as she sat across from Chester on the van's hard floor. His body tilted to one side, his legs splayed awkwardly in front of him. It pained her to witness his physical discomfort as those Irish thugs ransacked his farmhouse.

  She'd read somewhere that you could get out of zip ties by lifting your hands over your head then slamming them down hard and fast while pulling them apart. Why not put it to the test? When a few attempts only resulted in chaffed wrists, she stopped trying. What good would it do anyway? Even with both hands, she doubted she could overpower five men.

  Her hopes dimmed to the point that she saw no way out. But she wouldn't give up. Not with Chester's fate in the balance.

  "You're only tiring yourself," he told her. "We're not dead yet, so there's always the possibility that we'll get out of this."

  "I wish I could be as confident as you." She let out a pent-up breath and leaned back against the metal side of the van.

  "Confident? No, just taking things in stride." The old man held up both hands to scratch his chin. "Let's see what happens when they don't find the money."

  "What makes you so sure?" she asked.

  "They definitely won't find it in any of the outbuildings they're searching now."

  Maybe she could find some overlooked tool that she could use to free their hands. The only windows were in the front, leaving the back of the van in shadow. A sliver of light came from the crack between the solid rear doors, enough for her to check the vehicle's interior. She saw an expanse of cheap gray carpet, but nothing littered the cargo space where they'd been thrown, not even a dustball.

  How did five guys keep the van so clean? And where was the sixth? Hadn't Tiffany said that six men entered at Niagara Falls? Conor had mentioned two new teams, with different leaders. Maybe they banded together. And what about the McCarthy brothers? Were they really on their way back to Ireland or were they with Roxy somewhere? So many questions swirled through her head, she never noticed the four men returning to the van. The scowls on their faces indicating they didn't find what they were looking for.

  The older Irishman that Roxanne believed was the Boss, with a capital "B", climbed into the driver's seat and turned to them. "It seems you were telling the truth." He nodded to the lout in the watch cap who came around to the rear door and yanked Chester out of the van with no regard for his lack of dexterity.

  "Looks like this is your lucky day, old man," Watch Cap growled as he shoved Chester towards the house. He held the van doors open until the three remaining men crawled in the back then gave Roxanne a wicked grin before slamming the doors shut. She assumed he was following Chester into the house.

  Suddenly a single gunshot split the air. Roxanne screamed and closed her eyes. Instinctively, she knew the bullet was meant for Chester, but that reality was too horrible to contemplate.

  Chester was fine. He had to be. Even as she tried to convince herself, she knew it wasn't true. Never again would she see his twinkling smile, hear his concern for the people in his life or feel his comforting hand on her back. "No! No, no, n-o-o-o..."

  "Shut your gob!" the driver barked over his shoulder as Watch Cap climbed into the front seat.

  Anger grew inside her even through a cloud of despair--too much anger to be contained. She had to let it out or she would explode. "You son of a bitch!" she snarled at both of them. "You goddamn sons of bitches. You said you wouldn't hurt him!"

  Forgetting about her own perilous situation, she pounded her zip-tied hands at the closest man to her in the back. Startled, he bore the brunt of her fury as she pummeled his face and chest.

  "Damn you, damn you all!" she cried.

  He threw her back against the side of the van, knocking her breath out. "Shut up, ye stupid cunt!"

  As fast as the anger had come, it burned away. She sobbed as she scrunched her face and thumped her hands against her lap. Chester could be dead or dying and there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it. And it was all her fault.

  The sound of the gunshot echoed in her head while tears flowed down her cheeks. She would miss the old man's friendship and his help with Roxy. And how could she ever face Callahan again? His Gramps was dead because she hadn't listened! That realization brought a new torrent of wailing but she was beyond caring.

  Hunched into the corner behind the driver's seat, she kept as much space between her and the three bruisers as possible. They were truly bastards, all of them. She envisioned wrapping her bound hands around the neck of the driver and pulling his head back until his face turned red and his eyes bulged. If it caused the van to veer off the road, overturn and kill them all, so much the better. She'd keep that idea in the back of her mind until they reached a decent speed.

  Roxanne's weeping filled the otherwise silent van when they backed out of the lane onto the two-way blacktop. Instead of turning towards town, the van went north to open country. From where she sat, she barely made out the tops of leafless trees or stands of pines through her blurred vision.

  Up a short hill, down a slight distance, then up another one. The van traveled the road like a sailboat skimming waves in the ocean. She had no idea where they were going, but waited patiently for an opportunity to make them pay. Her sobs turned to sniffles as she wiped her nose on her parka sleeve. She forced her muscles to relax, preparing mentally for the best time to attack. One little distraction was all she needed.

  Too soon, the van slowed, turned left and pulled into a rutted dirt lane. Dammit, she'd missed her chance! She exhaled a disgusted breath.

  A shabby roof came into view, then a dilapidated house. Its white paint had turned gray long ago and now peeled from the wooden siding. Boarded-up windows allowed no access except through the warped front door. She slid up higher to see the rest of the structure.

  It appeared to be an old, abandoned farm house--it could have been a pit full of snakes for all she cared. A leaden blanket of hopelessness and desolation descended over her. She couldn't get the vision of Chester's amiable face out of her mind.

  They stopped at the side of the house where a few steps led to a decrepit porch. Watch Cap jumped out and came around to open the back doors. The three men leapt to the ground, one at a time, shaking their shoulders and legs to release muscular tension.

  "C'mon, lassie, time to get out," Watch Cap leered at her from the rear door.

  She remained huddled in the back. What was the point? So far, all her efforts had been useless. Only the thought of vengeance broke through her lethargy. As long as they believed they needed her to get the cash, she would find a way to make them pay for Chester.

  No one knew where she was--she didn't even know--so settling the score would be up to her. No counting on the sheer luck of Callahan or any of the others finding her before these brutes forced her to go and fetch the money.

  She racked her brain for the best place to lead them, somewhere the agents might stumble upon but nowhere near the phony money. Nothing came to mind.

  "Move it!" Watch Cap shouted, breaking her train of thought.

  Roxanne inched along the van floor towards the exit. No one seemed to be watching her and she briefly considered making a run for it. But if they didn't think it was important enough to keep an eye on her, there must truly be nowhere to go. She followed Watch Cap's line of sight. He looked bored as he focused on the two men on the porch.

  The orange-haired leader stood talking to another Irishman of
similar vintage. Roxanne had never seen the second man before but he looked like an older, meaner version of Watch Cap. His gray hair was laced with black, and thinning on top. The greasy mane hung over his coat collar, adding to his slovenly appearance. He measured about a head shorter than his compatriot and his shoulders appeared almost as wide as he was tall. The scowl he wore seemed permanently etched into his flat face.

  Roxanne dropped her feet to the ground, shaking off Watch Cap's arm at her elbow with a snarl, and stumbled before quickly regaining her balance.

  The two older Irishmen watched her in silence. When she reached the three steps leading to the porch, one of them turned and walked into the house. Without waiting for her to catch up, the other one followed, leaving the door ajar for her.

  As she stepped into the cobweb-filled hall, the urge to turn and run became overpowering. Her heartbeat kicked up like a jet engine revving for takeoff but Watch Cap blocked the exit. She had no choice except to pick her way down the hall.

  Her arms rose to bat the silky web strands away from her face and out of her mouth. The sound of upraised voices filtered from the back of the house and drew her in that direction. She paused at the entrance to a room which she assumed once served as a kitchen and peered inside.

  Her breath caught in her throat.

  Roxy sat at a table, a cup of steaming tea in front of her. She seemed not the least bit intimidated by the two older Irish gents. "I told you Roxanne didn't know anything. Why the hell did you bring her here?"

  "She told us she knows where the money is." The orange-haired gent that Roxanne now dubbed "Boss One" poured boiling water into a chipped mug and dunked a tea bag several times. "We were hoping you could convince her to lead us to it."

  "You're a fool," Roxy said. "I'm not even going to try. I told you that."

  "Oh, Aileen, what happened to the lass we knew who wanted in on all the major plans? Has your life here in your homeland changed you so much?" Boss One tossed the tea bag onto the cracked tile counter ignoring the half-filled garbage bag.

  Aileen? Who the hell was Aileen?

  - 26 -

  Roxanne leaned against the doorframe as she tried to collect her thoughts. When she closed her eyes, she again saw her mother's image on her phone--tied to a chair, looking desperate. Yet the woman before her wore no constraints and spoke freely. Her confusion deepened as she heard Roxy respond to the Irishman without losing a beat.

  "My allegiance hasn't changed. Just my methods, you old fool. Now, I'd advise you to take Roxanne back to where you got her." She squared her shoulders and reached for the cup on the table as if the matter were settled. "You're going to blow your entire mission if you keep grabbing people whenever you feel like it."

  "It's too late for that now. Anyway, she makes a better hostage than you ever did. Just tell us who we need to contact to trade her for the money," Boss Two growled in his gravel-filled voice. "We need to stop fukin' around here."

  Roxanne couldn't listen to any more of their crap. She stepped into the timeworn kitchen, waving her zip-tied hands. "They killed Chester!" she cried.

  Her mother's turquoise eyes widened at the sight of her. The relief on her face quickly gave way to alarm.

  "What?" Her gaze narrowed with pure hatred, before all emotion fled in an instant, replaced by belligerence with a hint of indifference. "You stupid idiots. The shit will hit the fan now."

  "Had to be done," Boss One said with a shrug.

  "How much trouble could a ninety-year-old man cause?" Roxy, aka Aileen, shook her head. "How many times do I have to tell you? The more attention you draw to us, the harder they'll look."

  "Ach shor, they couldn't find us in donkey's years," Boss Two said. "Those wankers don' have a clue."

  "Blowing up Tommy and the boat is one thing, but now you've gone and killed again. This time the beloved grandfather to a U.S. Government agent." She glared at them.

  Boss One ignored her last comment. "I told you before, we didn't blow up that feckin' boat. Why would we? We planned to use it."

  "Then who did?" She didn't appear convinced.

  "Who knows? Twasn't us."

  "Doesn't matter. They'll push harder to find us now that you've killed Chester." Roxy slowly sipped her tea. "We'll be lucky to get out of this alive, let alone wait for the money."

  "Then maybe you'd better put on your thinkin' cap and try to remember who's bringing the money." Boss One slammed his mug on the counter causing Roxanne's already pounding heartbeat to kick up.

  "And I told you before, I don't have a clue," Roxy snapped. "If I knew, we'd all be out of here by now. They didn't give their names, just told me to wait for them at the cabin. Well, you morons blew that."

  "Ye must know somebody who'd miss the lassie here. We can use her as bait." Boss Two leered at Roxanne then frowned. "She kinda puts me in mind of you--when you were younger."

  "Of course," Roxy sneered. "She's my second cousin's daughter. Same gene pool." Her left hand touched the newly-blond hair that swept to her collar in a messed up bob.

  Roxanne hugged the wall, her mouth agape as the words flowed around her. None of what Roxy said made any sense but she did it with such conviction. Her mother sure was an accomplished liar. If Roxanne didn't know better, she'd think Roxy was one of the gang searching for the cash.

  As it was, she began to wonder if that might be true.

  A dust particle tickled her nose and something irritated her dry throat, causing her to sneeze and choke at the same time. The coughing fit drew unwanted looks from the other three. Boss One and Boss Two turned to her in irritation, while Roxy raised her eyebrows and patted the air downward with both hands indicating she should stop. Roxanne went silent but continued to quietly choke.

  "Hey!" The single word drew the Irishmen's attention back to Roxy. "Who's watching my cabin?"

  "No one right now," Boss One told her. "The guys need to get some sleep. They're knackered. We've been awake for over forty-eight hours."

  "You don't all have to sleep at the same time. Leave those young punks here and you two go to the cabin. I told you I put the word out for the old guard to bring whatever stash they have to my place. They'll take a while to get it all together. You're too impatient."

  "How do we know you're telling the truth?" Boss One snarled.

  "Why would I lie?" Roxy locked eyes with him for a few seconds then sighed. "Your brilliant kidnapping hoax won't work. Roxanne doesn't have the money and hasn't a clue where to get it. The people I contacted won't let me down. When they show up, just tell them I sent you and they'll cooperate." She paused for effect. "But if you miss them, you're shit out of luck."

  The Irishmen looked at each other.

  "What do ya think?" asked Boss One.

  "Might as well give it a try. I'm gettin' mighty tired of sitting around here, me own self." Boss Two stood, his eyes roaming the dilapidated kitchen coming to rest on Roxanne. "This lassie is of no use and we could stand a bit of good luck."

  "Okay, then. Set up the perimeter, we'll take Seamus with us and leave those other three to crash for a time."

  Roxy propped her head on her hands. "You don't need to activate the windows and doors. I'm not going anywhere."

  "Maybe not you, but what about her?" Boss One's head bobbed in Roxanne's direction.

  "Fine, do what you want." Roxy waved her hands in dismissal. "But if one of your lackeys wakes up and tries to walk outside, I won't be responsible for what happens." Roxy looked from one man to the other.

  "Doesn't matter to us if the place blows up before we get back. Long as we get the money," Boss Two told Roxy. He walked around the first floor of the farmhouse, attaching wires to blocks of something that looked like Silly Putty to Roxanne. When he finished, he called for Seamus and the man she'd dubbed Watch Cap came jogging down the stairs. The two men met Boss One outside beside the van.

  Roxy signaled her daughter to join her at the filth-smeared front window to watch them drive away. When the van was out of
sight, she transformed into another person. "Thank God," she sighed. "I never thought I'd get them out of here." She turned to Roxanne and hugged her hard. "Is Chester really dead?"

  Roxanne nodded, unable to say the words.

  "Son of a bitch," Roxy said as she unsuccessfully beat back tears.

  Roxanne stared at her mother in disbelief. "So, Aileen, what's going on?"

  Roxy wiped her eyes with the edge of her shirt and took a deep breath. "I've got to find my coat. We need to get out of here." She opened a door under the steps, brushed aside the spider webs, and pulled out a green parka.

  "You seemed on pretty good terms with those kidnappers," Roxanne remarked. However she expected to find Roxy, it certainly wasn't sipping tea at a kitchen table--even if that table was rickety and layered with peeling paint.

  Roxy's arm paused halfway through the parka sleeve as she turned to Roxanne. "You think so? I must not be as rusty as I thought. I was worried there for a while when they brought you in. Didn't expect them to get you... and I never dreamed they'd kill Chester." She sucked in another deep breath.

  Roxanne licked her dry lips. "It was my fault."

  Her mother's head jerked up. "I doubt that but we don't have time to discuss it now. We've got to get out of here before those louts upstairs wake up. Follow me, and don't make any sudden moves." Roxy nodded at the outside door in the kitchen. As they crept towards it, she cocked her head listening for movement from above.

  "My hands..." Roxanne raised them to show her mother the zip ties.

  "Christ Almighty!" Roxy reached for a pair of rusty scissors on the counter. After a few failed attempts, the ties fell to the floor. "Come on!" she urged. "We don't have much time."

  Roxanne rubbed her hands to regain circulation. She knew Roxy was right. They had to get out of this place, the sooner the better.

  Before they reached the back door, Roxy grabbed her daughter's arm . "I have to disable the explosives," she whispered. "Wait right here and don't move."