by E B Corbin
Too
Many
Suspects
—
EB Corbin
Copyright © 2018 - Edana Corbin
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner or printed form without permission. Thank you for respecting the work of this author.This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the authors imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons or places is purely coincidental.
For Bob, Jessica, Cole, Chris, Spencer, Rory, Gracie, Tessa and Aela.
You are all my favorites.
Prologue
Oilville, PA - February 2017
Roxy O’Hara and her meddling daughter had to die. There was no way around it, and that realization gave the man in the cashmere overcoat a sense of satisfaction.
From behind the seated mourners, he watched the family members step closer to the grave. John Callahan followed his parents’ lead tossing a few grains of soil on the casket. Though his mother openly wept, he remained stoic and unmoving by her side, a reputed bastion of strength.
The careful observer noticed as Chester’s grandson swiped at the corner of his eye. Who did he think he was fooling? Everyone in attendance was overcome with sadness.
Everyone except the watcher.
He knew how to control his fervor and he would take no more chances. As soon as they located the money, he would give the order to his men to get rid of those who stood in his way.
But there was no need for his hired hands to know this ultimate outcome ahead of time. The two women were well respected in this community and someone had to take the fall for their deaths. That someone would not be him. Let his operatives think they would share in the reward; it was the best incentive for minimizing errors.
Things would be different from here on out. No more fooling around, waiting for word from Ireland. No more listening to excuses, nor the effort it took to keep his anger in check. He’d learn about fresh developments as soon as a new situation came up. He even had a plan in mind to move the blame closer to home. That should confuse those irritating Diplomatic Security Service agents. Might even get them pulled off the case altogether—a welcome sidebar to his changing scheme.
As he considered the IRA dimwit who died when the yacht blew, he felt no remorse. Hadn’t he warned them that using the Maria Elena was a bad idea? His order to find another place for the money drop had been ignored. The fact that he’d mentioned the boat to his contact with the IRA in the first place was an unacceptable error on his part. Such a lapse in judgement would not happen again.
He had no qualms about authorizing the destruction of the yacht. Even though the boat was registered in a corporate name and based out of the Caymans, it had been a little too close to home for comfort.
His family didn’t yet know about losing the yacht. They’d become quite used to the luxury it provided and regarded it as part of their birthright. Well, they were in for a big surprise. They’d just have to adapt, if that was at all possible for them with their elitist attitudes. He dismissed the thought with a small shrug. Their problem, not his for much longer.
Nothing could hold him back now. He would do whatever was needed. He’d deal the same way with his employees. If they became a threat or asked too many questions, they were disposable. Nothing would be allowed to inhibit his new course of action. No one would be allowed to thwart his goals.
Once he’d made his decision and started down this path, there was no turning back. The possibility of aborting the plan never entered his mind. His desire for a new way of life not only made him feel like a kid again but also invincible. He could almost taste the freedom. Nothing more would be allowed to go wrong.
When Roxy located the stash, everything would move into high gear. According to the few words he’d overheard minutes earlier, that should be soon.
Until then, he had to keep an eye on her and find a way to remove her daughter from the picture. An accident would work fine. Roxanne wasn’t nearly as experienced in subterfuge as her mother. She had no idea of the dangers that could come her way and no reason to be alert for them. Disposing of her would be easy; Roxy might take a bit more effort.
A few tweaks to his original plan would do the trick and make it even more satisfying. Now only one thing remained: coming up with a fall guy.
He again glanced at Chester’s grandson as he retreated from the gravesite with other family members. The look turned into a stare. Perhaps he fit the bill. This agent or one of his cohorts at the DSS had been involved since the beginning, despite the fact that it was none of their business and out of their jurisdiction.
The little extra cash that had been stashed at the hunting cabin was now lost, thanks to DSS interference. A few hundred thousand compared to five million didn’t seem like much, but it would have been a nice padding to his cushion in a new life. He would not allow any more tampering with his plan. And what better way to meet both objectives—get rid of these agents and pin the murders on them, in one clever move?
Yes, John Callahan would make the perfect patsy.
- 1 -
Roxanne Boudreaux glanced around the packed diner, glad she had impulsively offered this gathering place to the Callahans following Chester’s funeral. Of course, she’d cleared it with the rightful owner of the diner, Roxy O’Hara. The entire kitchen and waitressing staff had been more than willing to lend a helping hand for the event.
Everyone here wanted to pay homage to Chester, whose prominence in the small community could not be denied. His influence would continue long after he was laid to rest, in all the hearts and minds he’d touched in his ninety years. And he would have still been alive today if not for her.
The heaviness of that knowledge had weighed on her at the burial. Seeing all the drawn faces around her and lost in a cloud of grief, she almost felt like crawling into the coffin with him. She would have, too, if it could have brought him back.
The only way to deal with her guilt was to keep busy and make herself useful. She stood behind the counter and watched the Bunn coffeemakers to ensure they didn’t run out of the mandatory beverage.
Callahan’s family—his parents and the twins, sister and brother—sat in a corner booth. They looked weary but somehow managed smiles for the townspeople who stopped to offer condolences or tell a fond story about Chester.
Roxanne felt her stomach clench as her own mother and father, or Maureen and Patrick O’Reilly as she should now think of them, joined his family in the booth. When she observed the natural flow of conversation among them, she relaxed slightly.
Her last conversation with Maureen still disturbed her. Two days ago, Roxanne had steeled herself and phoned her with the news about Roxy’s reappearance. First came the in-drawn breath of shock, followed by silence. Perfectly normal when Maureen had believed her sister dead. Then she sputtered something about needing to be told when things happened and ended with a disgusted grunt before hanging up.
Though Maureen—the woman who raised her—and her birth mother were sisters, they had a falling out shortly after Roxanne was born. She’d learned the truth only recently and her nerves stretched tauter with every passing minute as she waited for Roxy to arrive. This was neither the time nor place for a stormy reunion.
Her worry that the diner would not be large enough for the crowd proved to be unjustified. Half of the visitors were from DC. Most of the State Department officials and Chester’s old-time friends from there had left after the burial. His local friends, though, more than made up for the departure of the big-wigs.
As for the DSS agents who had been working on locating Chester’s murderers the original team had shrunk. Tiffany had been reassigned and instructed to report to her new post yesterday. Gabe was still on medical leave recovering from his gunshot wound, so apart from Callahan, that left only Ron. He stood in the corner, keeping an eye on the townspeople as they filed in.
Richard Cummings II, Oilville’s mayor, had skipped out after the graveside service. She hadn’t expected him to come around after his son’s attack on her and her mother. Sheriff Walters remained under observation in the hospital after his latest heart episode and his brother, Judge Samuel Walters of the Pennsylvania Supreme Court, had apologized for his workload that prompted him to immediately return to Harrisburg.
She was sorry that Pete Sterling, a local deputy, couldn’t make it, but he’d been appointed acting Chief of Police by the two man/three woman town council, so he had his work cut out for him. His twenty years of experience with the Philadelphia Police made him the logical choice over Bud Mercer, the other deputy with just three years on the force. She was glad Pete had received the promotion.
When Snukie came by to refill one of the serving thermoses with coffee, Roxanne turned her attention to making another pot. She was out of her element with the commercial coffeemaker and had trouble concentrating on what she was doing. Her attention continually drifted to the corner booth, where her mother sat deep in conversation with Callahan’s parents, Susan and Tom.
Roxanne had met all the Callahans when they arrived several days before the services. Tom was the consul-general at the US General Consulate in Guayaqhil, Ecuador. He told Roxanne in one of their few conversations that unlike Chester, a former ambassador to Ireland, he was content with the consul-general role. He had no desire to take on the responsibilities involved in an ambassadorship.
He’d been stationed in the Toronto Consulate General’s office for nearly twenty years before requesting a move when their children were grown. One of the openings at the time was in Ecuador. As it turned out, they preferred Ecuador to Toronto where the winters were bone-chilling and snow accumulations made it difficult to get around. He and his wife wanted to remain in the tiny country on the Pacific coast when he retired, so Roxanne figured Callahan wouldn’t see too much of his parents in the future.
As she fiddled with the coffeemaker, Roxanne heard a commotion at the entrance and swiveled around to witness Roxy, Conor Walsh and Niall Murphy arriving. Everyone else had shown up at least thirty minutes ago. What had taken them so long?
Some of those present made a huge fuss when they discovered the woman with short blond hair was Roxy O’Hara, the diner’s original owner.
Roxy greeted them with a warm smile, while attempting to move towards the corner table where Tom Callahan waved to her. As the crowd parted, Maureen turned in her seat and saw her. Her face paled, then flared red as she watched her sister approach.
Behind the counter, Roxanne held her breath. She silently beseeched them to remain civilized.
“Hey, don’t you want to join the reconciliation?” Callahan whispered in her ear. “I’ll take over here.”
Roxanne jumped. With her focus on Roxy and Maureen, she hadn’t noticed his arrival. “God! You scared me half to death!”
“Sorry… I thought you saw me coming.”
She inhaled sharply. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s just that…”
“I know. You don’t want to be around in case there’s fireworks.” Callahan removed the glass pot from her hand and rinsed it in the sink behind the counter before he gradually filled it with cold water.
“Surely they wouldn’t be that disrespectful.” Roxanne reached for the coffeepot, in an attempt to steady herself after voicing her greatest fear.
Callahan kept it just out of range. “I think you need to join them.”
“I… I can’t. I already feel awkward enough around your family. I don’t need to add to it.” She took a step back from him.
“Awkward? What did they do to make you feel like that?”
“Nothing. They’ve been kind and gracious—considering why they’re here. I just feel so guilty about Chester.” She wanted to add that she could hardly look into his eyes either, but they’d been over that before. She was responsible for Chester getting shot. Callahan insisted she was not. But she knew better—no matter how many excuses he made for her.
He gave her a tiny shove. “Go. Don’t keep avoiding them.”
As Roxanne wound through the throngs of people, she heard Kate Williams calling her name from another booth where the innkeeper sat with her son, Jonathon, and Callahan’s niece and nephew. “The kids are getting antsy,” Kate said. “We have Puka in the car. Can I take them out to play with him?”
Roxanne smiled at the three little faces bright with the anticipation of playing with the dog. How could she refuse? She hadn’t expected her to bring the dog to the services but Kate had her own set of rules. She was probably afraid another funeral would remind Jonathon of his dad’s death only last year.
“Sure. Let me check with Pamela first.” Roxanne continued to the corner booth. She nodded at Sylvia, her pseudo-partner in the law firm, and a few of her former neighbors. When she reached the table where Roxy had squeezed in beside Callahan’s sister, she ignored her birth mother and spoke to Pamela. “Do you mind if the kids go out back and play with Puka?”
Before Pamela could respond, Roxy piped up. “Puka’s here? I’d love to see him.”
“Uh, yeah. Kate brought him.” Roxanne stumbled over the words, knowing that Roxy had not seen her golden retriever since her return. So much for hoping that her mother had forgotten about the mutt. Would Puka be so overjoyed to see his former owner that he‘d ignore his current caretaker? Roxanne had grown to love the pooch over the last few months and knew she’d miss him if Roxy took him back.
She’d miss a lot if Roxy stayed in the area. Then she immediately felt guilty for wishing her birth mother out of the picture, to say nothing of the remorse she felt at ignoring the couple who’d raised her as their daughter. Added to her guilt about Chester, she felt lower than a worm.
“Roxanne, sit.” Tom Callahan scooted closer to his wife, who pulled Pamela with her in return.
“I’d love to, but I can’t. I’ve got to let Leonard know it’s time to add to the food trays.” She indicated the buffet tables lined against the wall next to the jukebox. “We have a hungry bunch here.”
“Between Leonard and Sophie, the food’s delicious. I haven’t had such a treat in years,” Callahan’s mother said. “And it’s so good to see old friends. I’m just sorry it had to be under these circumstances.”
“We know Chester’s gone to a better place,” Tom said. “We’ll miss him but I’m sure he’d have been thrilled at the turnout. Thanks again for the use of your diner.”
“Oh, well, uh, it’s not exactly mine,” Roxanne stuttered, glancing at Roxy.
“It was your idea,” Roxy offered. “And a damned good one at that.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Roxanne saw Maureen flinch at her sister’s use of profanity, much the same way she did when Roxanne used it. She smothered a smile as a wave of love swept over her for the woman who had raised her. She imagined Roxy had driven her sister crazy when they were growing up. It made her regret the many times she’d deliberately acted out against Maureen’s attempt at discipline.
Seeing Roxy and Maureen sit at the same table without being at each other’s throats brought Roxanne a sense of relief. They were, after all, the people she most cared about.
Pamela cleared her throat. “To answer your question, yes, the kids may go and play with the dog. I’m grateful that Kate has been able to keep them under control for this long.”
“I’ll let her know,” Roxanne said, thankful for an excuse to leave. She picked her way through the buffet line and waved to Kate, signaling that
it was okay to take the kids outside. She didn’t realize Roxy had followed her until she pushed through the swinging door into the kitchen.
“Are you trying to avoid me?” Roxy asked, right on her heels.
“No. What makes you think that?”
Roxy just raised her eyebrows before turning her attention to the two cooks working in tandem in the kitchen. “Sophie! It’s such a treat to see you back.”
The older woman nodded her head without missing a swirl in the icing she was applying to a huge platter of cupcakes. “I only wish it was for some other occasion.”
“Don’t we all,” Roxy sighed. “But I didn’t know you were still able to work.”
“She shouldn’t be,” Leonard said, scowling at his mother. “Thinks I can’t handle a fancy feast by myself.”
Sophie let out a huff. “Well, I needed to do something. Can’t sit around the farm all day while everyone else honors the passing of a great man.”
“Believe me, we all appreciate your help.” At Roxanne’s words, both Leonard and Roxy gave her a strange look. Maybe she overstepped again. She always felt awkward around Leonard, even though the cook never gave her any reason for it. She simply felt he respected his old boss more.
Roxanne knew she lacked the ability to keep the diner running smoothly. She had complete confidence in the staff and Snukie’s day-to-day management, but she had no idea what Roxy thought about her hands-off approach.
“Sophie, don’t you go tiring yourself out now,” Roxy ordered. “Listen to your son if he thinks you’re doing too much.”
“I like to keep busy,” the woman snorted. “If he had his way, I’d be in bed from morning to night.”
“As I recall it wasn’t so long ago that you overdid it and the doctor ordered complete bed rest. I don’t want that to happen again,” Roxy said. She offered to finish the icing for her later, but Sophie said she was almost done.