Too Many Suspects

by E B Corbin

  “I’m sorry.” Her voice cracked as she struggled for composure.

  “I didn’t have much use for anyone after that. But somehow, you got under my skin.”

  “I didn’t set out to do that.” Roxanne gazed into the night. “Should I apologize?”

  His short laugh came out as a bark. “No, but you should listen to me when I tell you to be careful. It scares the hell out of me to know you could be in danger. I haven’t felt this way about anyone since… Elle.”

  “That was your fiancée’s name?”

  He nodded, unable to make a sound.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how my actions…” She sniffed. “I’ll try to be more cautious in the future. I promise.”

  When he had no response, Roxanne decided it best to let the subject drop. This conversation had been difficult enough for him already.

  After a few silent miles down the road, a dilapidated building appeared on their right. The wooden structure sat on a corner lot, half fronting the state road they traveled. The other side ran along an old, narrow county road.

  Roxanne assumed the employee parking area must be in the back with access from the county lane since the front offered only enough space for one or two cars.

  Snow piled up against the wooden sides, almost reaching the broken and boarded up windows. The smooth blanket of snow in the front of the building showed no sign of trespass.

  She lowered her window to get a better look at the side of the building. A line of trees blocked her view from this angle. There were no windows, no doors. Nothing larger than a mouse could enter here. The thought made her shiver—or maybe it was the bitter wind blowing in. She quickly raised the window. “All clear on this side.”

  The blanket of snow in front of the building showed no sign of trespass. It piled up against the wooden sides, reaching the broken and boarded up windows. She made out the words “Jon h’s Ap le C der” stenciled in peeling gold paint on the front door.

  “One more side and the rear to go,” Callahan said as they turned onto the county road.

  Around the corner, the stretch of wall looked as looked as impenetrable as the other side. When they reached the back of the structure, they were able to scan the entire area from the road. No jumbled footprints or tire tracks marred the surface of the parking area; no sign of life inside.

  A huge rusted padlock hung across sagging wooden doors large enough for a car or truck to drive through. It was obvious the doors hadn’t been opened in ages.

  “The roof’s half off.” Roxanne slumped in her seat. “It must be cold and dark inside and I’m sure there’s no place to sit. I can’t imagine them choosing this place as a hideout.”

  “You’re right. Scratch this from the list of possibilities.” Callahan slowed the SUV until it drifted to a stop. The heater blasted warm air; the headlights shown into an open area where they faded into the distance.

  He slid the gearshift into Park, released his seatbelt and twisted to face her. “Since this is more than likely the only chance we’ll have to be alone until we find those kids, let’s clear the air.”

  “I don’t understand.” Roxanne furrowed her brow as she stared into the darkness.

  “You’ve been keeping your distance from me.”

  She turned to look at him. “How can you say that? We’ve been together for days. You drop me at work and pick me up. We even slept in the same bed for the past two days. You hardly let me out of your sight.”

  “True. You’re not physically avoiding me, just emotionally.” His grey eyes bored into hers. “What’s going on in your head?”

  “I, um, I…” Roxanne searched for something that sounded reasonable. She didn’t want to tell him he’d been the topic of numerous warnings. How could any of it be true? Callahan did not help the sniper get away. He was not the mole within his organization, and no way was he using her for his own agenda. Deep down, she trusted him completely. But every now and then, a doubt niggled its way in. “I’m confused, that’s all.”

  “Confused about what?” He wasn’t letting her off the hook. “Did I do something you don’t agree with?”

  “No, no, it’s nothing like that. It’s just… oh, hell, I don’t know what it is!”

  Callahan leaned over the center console and gently touched her chin. He steered her head to face him then his lips met hers in a soft, non-demanding kiss. She wanted to pull him closer and deepen the contact, but knew this was neither the time nor place.

  His phone rang out “Reveille”. “I guess we’re not in a dead zone,” he said as he fumbled for the instrument in his jacket pocket. Roxanne could see Pete’s number on the screen and hoped he’d had better luck than they did.

  “Yeah,” Callahan said. After a few uh-huhs and okays he said, “Nothing here. We’ll be there in about thirty minutes.”

  She waited while he clicked off and stuck the phone back in his pocket. “Well?”

  “Ron and Tiff didn’t find anything; neither did Pete and Leonard. But Roxy and Conor found something.”

  “The kids?”

  He shook his head. “Roxy didn’t tell Pete what it was but insisted we all meet back at her cabin tonight. Said whatever they discovered could help with locating the kids.”

  Roxanne reached out and rested her hand on top of his as he shifted into Drive. “Thank you.”

  “For what?” He gave her a quizzical look.

  “For everything.”

  Since discussing emotions seemed to make him edgy, she turned on the radio and searched for a station that didn’t play country music. When “Proud Mary” blasted through the speakers, she sat back and hummed along.

  He drove as fast as the road conditions allowed; whatever had melted during the day was quickly turning into black ice. They arrived at Roxy’s cabin the same time as Tiff’s BMW swung into the drive.

  Callahan spoke first as he hung his jacket on a peg near the front door and turned to Roxy. “Pete said you found something?”

  “Sure did,” she answered, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “But let’s wait until Pete gets here before we explain.”

  The four newcomers looked at each other and shrugged. “It’s your show,” Tiffany said trying to hide her curiosity behind a façade of indifference.

  Ron stepped to the fire blazing in the living area to warm his hands while Roxanne headed for the kitchen. “Do you have milk for hot chocolate?” she asked her mother.

  “Sure do, it’s already warming in the pan.” Roxy dug several mugs out of the cabinet. “Who wants some?”

  Everybody but Ron accepted the offer, and Roxy busied herself pouring equal amounts in each cup. “There’s whipped cream in the fridge,” she told no one in particular.

  Roxanne grabbed the aerosol can from the door. “Who wants some?”

  Tiffany held her mug out for a shot, and waved it back and forth to indicate she wanted more. Roxanne found it amusing that the die-hard vegan fancied a high mound of whipped cream. It made her more human somehow.

  Pete came in, stomping the snow from his boots. He wandered into the kitchen area. “Hot chocolate? Where’s mine?”

  Roxy took down another mug and filled it with the last of the liquid. Roxanne added a squirt of whipped cream and handed it to him with a flourish.

  When they’d all settled in the living room around the fire, Roxy cleared her throat to get their attention. “I guess you’re wondering what we found.”

  A chorus of “You bet,” “Sure,” and “That would be nice”, greeted her.

  “As you know, Conor and I were assigned the old bottling plant out on 62. The place closed down a few years before Liam died.”

  Whether it was the triumphant glow in Roxy’s eyes or the way she threw back her shoulders as she faced them, Roxanne knew what her mother was about to say.

  “You did it, didn’t yo
u? You found the money!” she blurted.

  - 24 -

  Everyone in the room seemed to be holding their breath. Conor poked at the smoldering embers in the fireplace until the wood ignited and burst into flame. Roxanne felt she would combust like the logs if her mother didn’t answer soon.

  Finally Roxy nodded. “We did.”

  The tension in the room evaporated. Tiffany picked up her mug and took a dainty sip. Ron jumped up as if on fire. “Congratulations! You’ve been searching for a long time.”

  Callahan muttered, “At least some of us have found what we were looking for.”

  Pete put his hand on Callahan’s shoulder and squeezed. “Things are starting to come together. We’ll find those bastards… and Leonard’s kids. I’m not stopping till we do.”

  Callahan smiled his appreciation for Pete’s fortitude but for the first time Roxanne saw despair etched on his face. She fought off the urge to go to him and hold him; it wouldn’t help. Only one thing could alleviate his pain— to catch those bastards, Pearse and Seamus, and free Leonard’s kids.

  “Where is Leonard?” Roxy asked noticing that he did not come in with the others. “He should know what’s going on.”

  “I dropped him at his place before I came here,” Pete said. “Sophie called to ask him to come home. Tamara won’t stop crying.”

  “That has to be the worst feeling in the world,” Roxy said. “We can tell him about the money tomorrow.”

  Roxanne swallowed hard. “Money isn’t near as important as his kids. We need to find them.”

  “We will, I feel it,” Roxy said. “Something will pop.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Ron narrowed his eyes at her. “How did you find the money?”

  Roxy lifted her shoulders. “It was a fluke. I don’t know why we didn’t think of it sooner. Should have figured Liam was too lazy to bury the money and dig it back up when it was needed. It was so much easier to hide it somewhere accessible. An abandoned office at Shultz’s Bottling fit the bill.”

  “What made you go inside?” Tiffany asked as she sipped her hot chocolate.

  Roxanne wondered why the two agents seemed so interested in the money when their priority was to find Pearse and Seamus.

  “We noticed some tracks at the rear of the building. No tire tracks but it looked like several sets of footprints. The snow around the rear door was packed down and the padlock hung open.”

  Tiffany sat her mug on the counter. “You shouldn’t have gone in yourself. You should have called for backup. What if…”

  “We weren’t born yesterday,” Roxy interrupted her. “We pulled the car around a bend and hid it behind an old shed. Then we crept back to the far side of the building and listened for sounds inside. Through a cracked corner in the window, we watched for movement. When we didn’t see or hear anything, we slipped into the factory.”

  Roxanne couldn’t help but agree with the blonde agent. “Still, it was dangerous.”

  “And reckless,” Pete added. “Tiffany’s right. You should have never gone in by yourselves.”

  Roxy waved his words away. “We knew what we were doing.”

  Conor cleared his throat. “We almost didn’t go in at all. It looked unoccupied to me but Roxy insisted we check it out further.”

  “What if Pearse and Seamus were in there? They could have killed you and the kids.” Pete emphasized his disapproval with a shake of his head.

  “They weren’t anywhere around.” Roxy’s anger simmered just below the surface. “But if they were, they wouldn’t have noticed us. We slipped through the door without a sound and waited until our eyes adjusted to the darkness before moving a muscle.”

  Conor stood behind Roxy’s chair to show his support. His tone was conciliatory. “The factory had been cleared out. Nothing to hide behind on the bottom floor. There was a huge charred circle in the middle of the room with bits and pieces of burnt wood and paper. Empty beer cans, crumpled potato chip bags and cigarette butts covered the floor near the scorch marks. We figured whoever broke in made a fire to keep warm.”

  Roxy took over their story. “It was obviously kids, not kidnappers. After we were certain no one else was in the building, we decided to check out the offices in the front.”

  “You wanted to check out the offices.” Conor glanced at Roxy, then lifted his head to include everyone in the room. “I wanted to get out of there, the sooner the better. It was kind of spooky. But Roxy insisted on a complete search. She said we’d be sorry if the kids were tied up in one of the small rooms and we just walked away.” Conor crossed his arms as if daring any of them to question their decision.

  “Spooky?” Roxy looked over her shoulder at Conor and laughed. “I didn’t know it scared you.”

  “Not scared. Just uncomfortable,” Conor corrected. “That place didn’t feel right to me.”

  “Anyway,” Roxy went on, “we checked out the offices. Conor’s flashlight picked up a glint of dirty metal behind a corroded filing cabinet. Turned out to be an old titanium suitcase stashed in the corner—must have been one of the first ones ever made. It didn’t have a speck of rust, only dirt from sitting around for years.”

  “They’re pretty expensive,” Roxanne said. “I priced one once at over fifteen hundred dollars.”

  Roxy nodded. “Yeah, the IRA spared no expense to safeguard their money. The only problem was they trusted a moron to keep it hidden.”

  “What made you think the money was in the suitcase?” Pete asked.

  “We didn’t at first. We were just curious to see what was inside. The outside case was smudged and dented like someone had tried to open it but didn’t succeed. Each clasp had its own sturdy lock making it almost impossible to force or break. We could see where someone tried to pry them, but they held firm. Made us wonder what was inside that was so important.”

  Conor looked down at his fingernails and back up. “Roxy is very capable at lock picking but when she couldn’t get it open, I gave it a try.”

  Roxy smiled at him. “Okay, I’ll admit it, you’re better at it than me.”

  “I couldn’t have done it without the lock pick set you got me when we were with the IRA. It still comes in handy at times.”

  Pete eyebrows rose at both of them. “You know lock pick sets are illegal?”

  Even though she was pretty sure the sheriff was teasing, Roxanne jumped to their defense. “In some states, yes, but Pennsylvania has no specific law against them.”

  Callahan gave her a sideways glance. “How do you happen to know that?”

  “I, uh, one of the clients where I used to work bought a fancy set of picks from Alibaba. China has no qualms about making or selling the things. In any case, this client got drunk one night and was arrested for attempting to gain access to a restaurant where he was sure he’d left his wallet. The problem was the restaurant was closed. He decided to make use of the lock picks. Although he’d been practicing with them, he never had an opportunity to use them. In his drunken state, the dark restaurant seemed a good place to try them out.

  “When the cops found the lock picks they tried to charge him with a felony. The criminal defense attorney in our firm had it thrown out because there was no proof of malicious intent and no law against having them. The guy simply wanted to test his skill.” Roxanne dragged out the explanation to avoid mentioning that the defense attorney was Richard, her old paramour.

  Pete looked skeptical but remained silent.

  Conor breathed a sigh of relief. “Now that we’ve established I’m not a criminal, can I go on with our story?”

  “By all means,” Pete said with a mock bow.

  “When we finally got it opened, stacks of hundred dollar bills flew out.” There was no mistaking the pleased look on Conor’s face. “We packed it up and got out of there as fast as we could hoping that damned black SUV wasn’t around.”


  Roxy picked up where he left off. “When we got back here, we counted the bundles and came up with about four million five hundred thousand dollars. We called you as soon as we were done with the tally.”

  Callahan nodded. “Makes sense. Add the money we found in O’Malley’s cabin and the hundred thousand or so that those idiots spent, you get the five million the IRA wanted.”

  “Where is it now?” Roxanne glanced around the room for the titanium suitcase.

  “Somewhere safe… for the moment,” her mother said. “I’m not sure where to keep it till I can get rid of it.”

  “I can stash it in Gramps safe where the other money is,” Callahan offered. “Of course it’s in the chicken coop and if someone’s watching us, I wouldn’t want to lead them to it.”

  “Not the best plan,” Roxy said. “Besides finding a place to keep it safe, I’ve got figure out what to do with it.” Her features saddened. “I wish Chester were still here to help me with that. I want to make the right decision.”

  Tiffany made a gesture to include all of them. “Isn’t the right thing to hand it over to the authorities? I mean, it’s not yours, after all.”

  “And what authorities would you suggest?” Roxy gave her a disgusted look. “Pete? The FBI? The State Department? In any of those places it would languish in some evidence file for years. In time, it would more than likely disappear.”

  Pete nodded his agreement.

  Tiffany’s mouth twisted into a grimace. “You may be right.”

  “Not may be, I am right.” Roxy slammed her fist on the counter. “I want to do something good with it, goddammit!”

  “We’ll figure it out.” Conor patted her shoulder from his position behind her chair.

  Roxanne opened her mouth to speak when she saw headlights glinting through the front picture window. Her breath hitched and she fought the urge to duck. The memory of the shots fired through Callahan’s kitchen window came rushing back.

  What the hell was the matter with Roxy and Conor? Why hadn’t they closed the curtains? They knew about the sniper and that a clean line of sight was all shooter needed. She took a step backward and her hand went to her heart as if she could protect herself that way. Her body tensed as the blood drained to her feet.