Too Many Suspects

by E B Corbin

  She rolled her window down. “What did you do?”

  “Nothing much. Just warmed up the starter a bit. You should drive around for a while, let the engine heat up and start it every hour or so this afternoon. That should take care of it. It’s hard on a car when you leave it sit out in the cold for any length of time.”

  “Thanks, Henry.” Roxanne gave him a genuine smile for the first time since she’d met him. Maybe Sam was right about the man. Then she shook her head. What was she thinking? Just because he helped start her car didn’t mean he was a nice guy.

  When she arrived at the office, the entire front window consisted of an unusual textured glass. A series of wavy lines and scrollwork in the thick glass made it impossible to see into the waiting area.

  Instead of reminding her of shower doors, this material added a touch of class to the entrance. The glass on the entry door had also been replaced to match the front window.

  She noted the gold lettering on the door: “Law Offices of Roxanne Boudreaux” with “Sullivan and Associates” on the line below. “Please ring bell” followed in smaller print off to the right where a button had been installed.

  Roxanne took in a breath as tears of joy leaked from her eyes—she never realized her name on the door would mean so much. She dug out the new key Sylvia had given her and wiped her tears away before she entered.

  Sylvia was sitting at her desk, focused on the computer screen.

  “The new glass looks great.” Roxanne flicked her hand in the direction of the window.

  Sylvia looked at her over her reading glasses with a neutral expression. “What about the new name?”

  “It’s, uh, it’s more than I expected. I never minded working under the Sullivan and Associates name.”

  “Well, it’s time we moved on. People are beginning to get used to you and I thought it was a smart move.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate it.” Roxanne hung her coat on a peg and went around the desk to give Sylvia a hug. “I’d better get started on Sam’s contract and start pulling my weight around here.”

  Sylvia pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows. “Probably a good idea.”

  Roxanne tried to reach Judge Walters before she started on the agreement. When the call went to voicemail again, Roxanne left a message for him to get in touch with her as soon as possible, saying that it was a matter of life and death.

  She shrugged when she hung up, wondering if she should have been so draconian. Considering the Irishmen’s brutality and Leonard’s children, she decided that the hard-nosed message was entirely warranted.

  When she picked up the employment agreement again, she realized she felt better about it now. The clauses flowed easier when she wasn’t holding a grudge against Henry, even though his helping to start her car was scant reason to forget his past behavior.

  By 2:00 p.m., she had a revised draft completed and realized she’d forgotten to start her car every hour the way Henry had suggested. Without bothering to grab her coat, she stepped outside.

  As she reached for the car door, a bullet whizzed past and skidded along the asphalt.

  - 26 -

  Roxanne froze for a second, then jumped into the car. Her heart pounded; blood rushed to her head. She sprawled across the console, her feet near the gas pedal, her right shoulder resting on the passenger seat.

  She heard a thwack somewhere behind her but dared not raise her head to check it out. Then silence.

  When she gained control of her breathing, she began to get angry. Being shot at was getting stale. Still, she forced herself to remain horizontal. If the shooter couldn’t see her, his bullet couldn’t hit her. At least that was what she told herself.

  Ten minutes passed. Feeling restless, she inched her head up and glanced around, ducking every few seconds to avoid becoming a fixed target.

  What the hell? There were people out on the street, seemingly oblivious to the random shots aimed in her direction. Shouldn’t someone have seen something?

  The shooter must be gone by now, sticking around would make him too vulnerable. She took a calming breath as her foot touched the ground.

  The fact that she had planned to start the car completely left her mind. She leapt out, slammed the door and sprinted to the office. Thank goodness she hadn’t locked the office door when she stepped outside.

  A startled Sylvia looked up. “Roxanne, what’s wrong? You’re white as snow. And what are you doing without your coat?”

  After a few gulps of air, Roxanne tried to explain without frightening the older woman. Sylvia seldom overreacted and she’d held up during the last shooting in front of the office but it had unnerved her enough to install bulletproof glass. Roxanne saw no need to alarm her again. “I just stepped outside to check on my car.”

  “Is something wrong with it?”

  “It wouldn’t start this morning and Henry suggested I turn over the engine throughout the day.”

  “So does it work now?”

  “I don’t know. I never got that far. I had a panic attack I guess, and I’m still a little shaky.”

  “I can relate to that. Sometimes I relive the gunfire when I walk out the door. I know it’s perfectly safe, but it’s hard to forget what happened.”

  Roxanne nodded her understanding and hurried into her office. She knew she couldn’t concentrate on Sam’s agreement now and also knew that Callahan was tied up trying to coordinate the watch at the campground. The closer they came to the deadline, the more important it was to focus on finding whoever abducted the kids.

  The shooter could wait all day but she wasn’t going out there by herself again.

  Since it was after 1:00 p.m., Roxanne assumed her mother and Conor were done with their shift and would be available to check out her car to see if it started. She reached for the phone, hesitated, then drew back her hand without dialing. There was no good excuse to call for help. If she told them about the sniper, it would cause an uproar. They could all come running, which would disrupt the plan already in place to keep an eye on the cabin at the campground.

  Thanks to Sylvia’s competence, she was well protected here, with bulletproof glass and a new lock—if she had remembered to lock the door when she burst in. She did, didn’t she? There had to be a way to check the lock without alerting Sylvia to the danger.

  The sound of the buzzer reassured her that the door was indeed locked. But she wondered who would who would pop in without an appointment. Perhaps someone meeting with Sylvia about real estate?

  Roxanne tried to pick out the female voice coming from the waiting area but the low conversation suddenly ended. She heard footfalls on the carpet leading to her office.

  Then Vicki tapped on the door frame. The café owner had a paper sack in hand. “I brought you and Sylvia some chili. Thought you might be tied up with the contract thing for Sam and Henry and need some nourishment.”

  Roxanne motioned for her to come in. Her mouth watered as the hot and spicy aroma that escaped from the bag plopped on her desk. “So, you and Henry have worked out your conflicts?”

  Vicki shrugged. “We’re trying. It’s hard when you have a lifetime of bad childhood memories to overcome. As adults, we can look at things from a different perspective.”

  “So you think it’s a good idea for him to be working with Sam?”

  She hesitated, then held out her hands, palms up. “I guess. He was always the smartest one in his grade until Dad left. Then he kind of fell apart. But when you combine his brains with his SEAL training, he’s just what Sam needs.”

  “You trust him?”

  Vicki looked at the ceiling before dropping her eyes to Roxanne. “Besides scaring us to death and waving his gun around, he didn’t really hurt us. I think he was just confused and disgusted with the way things in his life were going. He couldn’t find a decent job and had no desire to return to his SEAL team. Why d
o you ask? Did he do something I’m not aware of?”

  “No, he’s been nothing but helpful. He and Sam are scheduled to take a turn watching for activity at a possible hideout for the kidnappers.”

  “I heard about that,” Vicki said. “I hope they can find those kids before it’s too late.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Well, I’d best get back to the café. Don’t have a lot of customers at this hour, but I don’t want to miss any—especially since I’ve been closed for the last few days.”

  “Thanks for lunch.” Roxanne called after her as Vicki started toward the front office.

  Before she dug into the chili, she thought she’d try Judge Walters again. If the campground didn’t work out, they had only a minimal amount of time to check out the cabin on the judge’s property. The call went straight to voicemail this time. She left another message begging him to get in touch and hoped he answered soon.

  She finished the chili and tried to concentrate on the agreement Sam had asked for when the buzzer sounded again, causing her to jump. Good grief, there seemed to be an awful lot of visitors today even without any scheduled appointments.

  After she heard Sylvia enunciate, “May I help you?” an unintelligible response through the speaker and the new visitor was allowed access.

  She heard Roxy’s greeting to her old fried Sylvia. Tossing the empty chili container in the trash, Roxanne moved to join them in the waiting area.

  As soon as she rounded the corner, her mother cried, “Roxanne! What happened to your car?”

  “What? What do you mean? Did someone hit it?”

  “I don’t think so… but it looks as if there’s a bullet hole in the rear window.”

  She remembered the sound she’d heard as she lay flattened in the front seat. “Shit, shit, shit…”

  Sylvia looked alarmed. “Did someone shoot at you again today? Is that why you came flying into the office? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Caught in the subterfuge, Roxanne twisted her mouth before answering. “I may have heard something that could have been a shot, but I didn’t want to worry you.”

  “Why do you think I had them put in the bulletproof glass? I just wish you had told me what happened.”

  “There was nothing that could be done,” Roxanne said. “There were people on the sidewalk and I didn’t want some innocent bystander to get hurt. That’s why I barreled in here like I did.”

  “Dammit, Roxanne,” her mother said. “Why didn’t you call us?”

  “Nothing you could do, either. By the time you got here, the shooter would have been long gone.”

  “Unless he’s waiting on a rooftop until you step out again.” Sylvia sounded like a first-grade teacher disciplining an unruly student.

  “It’s too cold for someone to hang out on rooftops for long,” Roxanne said.

  “Nevertheless,” Roxy cut in, “you should have told someone. Now it’s too late to even begin to look for the sniper.”

  “No one has time for that today. We’ve got to concentrate on finding those kids.”

  “Speaking of that, did you get in touch with Judge Walters?”

  “Left a couple of voice messages but so far he hasn’t called back.” Roxanne said. “What’s happening out at the campground?”

  “We saw no activity, but I haven’t heard from Tiffany and Ron since we left. That damn Jones came around and irritated everyone. He doesn’t have an ounce of sense. If someone was hiding in the cabin, they sure as hell won’t show their faces now.” Roxy shrugged and plopped onto a visitor chair. She checked her watch. “It’s almost time for Sam and Henry to relieve those useless DSS agents. Maybe Henry can get a look inside. If we’re watching an empty cabin we need to know as soon as possible.”

  “In case I can’t get in touch with the judge, do you know if Pete was able to get a search warrant?”

  “He was still working on it, last I heard.” Roxy glanced around the front area as if seeing the new glass windows for the first time. She looked at Sylvia and pointed. “Nice touch. Adds a bit of class to the place. At least every Tom, Dick and Harry walking down the street can’t watch you work.”

  “Yeah, and whenever someone takes a potshot at your daughter, I won’t have to duck, either.”

  “Smart.” A buzzing came from Roxy’s pocket. She glanced at the screen and turned her back to answer. She moved closer to the window, murmuring “uh-huhs” as she walked. Conor watched her closely. Roxanne sensed he was able to pick up clues to the conversation from her stance and attitude. She, on the other hand, couldn’t even catch the gist of the discussion.

  When Roxy clicked off, she turned to Conor. “We need to meet everyone at the campground. Henry thinks this is the place.”

  “Did he see the kids?” Conor asked.

  “Not exactly, but he saw what could be two backpacks in a corner. He’s going back to get a closer look. Callahan and Pete are on their way and we need to get there, too.”

  “I’m coming with you.” Roxanne reached for her coat.

  “I don’t think that’s such a great idea,” Roxy told her daughter.

  “I don’t care. I’m coming.”

  Sylvia shooed them out the door, assuring Roxanne she would take care of anything that came up. They were to keep her informed if they didn’t need to search the judge’s property. In the meantime, she would continue to try to get in touch with Judge Walters.

  Pete had the access road to the campground blocked with the Oilville police SUV and Callahan’s SUV, nose to nose, forming a V-shape. Tiffany’s BMW sat off to the side.

  With his phone to his ear, Pete ambled back and forth on the road, his arms swinging in wide arcs to punctuate his words. Callahan leaned against the police car watching him.

  Roxy pulled up close and wound her window down. “What’s going on?”

  “Henry’s at a side window, trying to get a visual on the kids. Aside from what looks like backpacks, there’s no sign of them. Two guys are inside packing guns and ammo into a suitcase. We think they’re getting ready to bolt. From his description, it sounds like Pearse and Seamus, and Sam located their van tucked into a shed about a quarter mile away.”

  Roxy slammed her hands on the steering wheel. “Dammit! What the hell did they do with the kids? We’ve got to make sure we know where they are before we pick up those Irish bastards.”

  Callahan nodded. “Pete’s trying to get some additional manpower from the state right now. There’s eight of us, but it’s not enough to provide complete coverage and we don’t want to chance them slipping through.”

  “There’s nine of us,” Roxanne said from the back seat.

  He scratched his ear under the ski cap pulled low over his forehead, then he cleared his throat. “Yeah, well, we kind of need someone at the station to monitor everything. Gertie leaves at five, and if we can’t communicate through a single source, things could get messed up. We’ll be in the woods, out of sight of each other, and our earpieces are our only means of communication. If the state SWAT team shows up, we’ll have to coordinate. I was hoping you’d do that.”

  “I see.” Roxanne understood the requirement to relay information, but she resented missing all the action. Still, she didn’t want to witness any more shooting and death, if it came to that, and it was obviously a way for Callahan to keep her out of danger. “I’ll need a car to get back to town.”

  Roxy threw the gearshift into Park and reached for the door. “Take this one. Just let me get some things from the trunk.”

  Conor gave Roxy a quizzical look. “What about the…”

  Roxy held up her hand to quiet him as Tiffany came close enough to overhear. “Roxanne, there’s something very important in the trunk. Make sure you don’t lose it.”

  She looked at Roxy, her mouth hanging open. “Really? That’s the best you could come up with?”
r />   “On such short notice, yes.” Roxy dismissed her daughter’s reprimand with a casual lift of her eyebrows. “Is it too much for you to handle?”

  “Oh, I can handle it. I’d just rather not have to worry about one more thing.” She slid into the car, adjusted the driver’s seat and waited while Roxy and Conor pulled two rifle cases from the trunk. Conor slammed the trunk shut and gave two taps to indicate they were done.

  Roxanne saw Callahan and Tiffany in a huddle with Pete and Roxy. With a wave to Conor, the only one who paid any attention to her departure, she backed away from the roadblock, pulled a U-turn and headed to town.

  - 27 -

  When Roxanne walked into the station, Gertie gave her a disgusted look. “Pete told me you were coming. I guess they don’t trust me to do my job.”

  “I’m sure they do.” Much as she loathed the idea of working with her, Roxanne needed her cooperation. “He was concerned because you’re off at five. He didn’t want to make you stay in case you had plans.”

  “Humph.” Gertie straightened some papers on her desk and glared at her. “Well, get on back here, I’ll show you the ropes.”

  Roxanne tried her best to pay attention as Gertie explained the intricacies of the police band radio but when she got to the OpenSky system versus the VHF system used locally, she shook her head in confusion. “Isn’t there a button I can just push to talk?”

  “Sure, if you don’t care who you’re talking to,” she sniffed. “You’ve got to know which switch connects to which system.”

  As Gertie started to explain again, Roxanne’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She glanced at the incoming call and saw that it was Judge Walters. “Excuse me,” she told her. “I have to take this call.”

  She walked to the entrance to avoid being overheard. “Judge, thank you for getting back to me.”

  “No problem, young lady. Your messages sounded urgent. I’m sorry I couldn’t get in touch sooner, I was in a meeting.”