Too Many Suspects

by E B Corbin

  “You’re the one shooting at me?”

  “Well, not me personally. Gordon here was an Army sniper in the first Gulf War. He hasn’t used his skill in many years and I wasn’t sure how it would turn out.”

  “He missed me every time.” Roxanne glanced at his driver with loathing.

  “I meant to miss,” Gordon sneered.

  “It was merely a scare tactic,” the judge said.

  Really? What about that bullet that grazed her arm? It could have just as easily struck her heart.

  Her grasp of the situation was becoming more tenuous by the moment. Even though the judge spoke in a reasonable tone, she grew convinced he was demented. “What did you hope to accomplish by terrorizing me?”

  Walters looked at the ceiling as he scratched his chin. “Perhaps just confuse matters to keep my involvement out of the picture.”

  A whimper sounded behind Roxanne as Gordon shoved Sasha to the floor. Len Jr. growled and gave the man a hateful look before he was pushed down beside his sister. Roxanne recognized the second man as the one she mistook for a farmer when they first came to take her to meet Judge Walters. At the time, she assumed he worked for the judge. Now, with his hands tied behind his back and a gag in his mouth, he seemed as much a captive as the two kids.

  Roxanne tried to suppress her mounting panic. She took several deep breaths in an effort to hide her anxiety. She’d never be able to physically overpower Gordon and she had one bullet in her gun. Not much she could do at the moment.

  When Gordon pulled his 9mm from his pocket and cracked it across the skull of his former cohort, Roxanne shuddered. She didn’t dare say anything for fear she would suffer the same fate. Who was in charge here? The judge or Gordon? Either way, the time for trying to control the situation with words was quickly evaporating.

  Sasha whimpered louder as the big man fell next to her; Len Jr. kicked at him to move him away from his sister. With their hands tied behind their backs neither kid could do much except roll around and try to gain enough traction to sit. Every time one of them managed to get halfway up, Gordon pushed on their shoulder and sent them tumbling back.

  Roxanne felt like dissolving into tears but refused to show her distress. She bit the inside of her cheeks to remain calm as she watched the judge spread ripped pages around the room.

  He grabbed the fireplace tongs and tipped a burning log onto the floor over some of the paper. The paper flared briefly then disintegrated into cinders. None the flames spread to the next crumples pages. “Damn! This is not working.”

  Gordon tucked his gun into his shoulder holster. “You need some gasoline to get it going.”

  “I want it to look like an accident,” the judge told him.

  “What does it matter? We’ll be long gone before they sort through the rubble. The plane is waiting. We’re cleared for take-off until seven then we’ll have to file another flight plan.”

  Judge Walters snorted. “That doesn’t matter, either, since we’re not giving them the actual flight plan. The county airport doesn’t have enough resources to track us.”

  “True, but sticking to the deadline will make it easier to take off.” Gordon started toward the hall. “I’m going to get some gas from the garage. Why don’t you make sure she can’t run off while I’m gone.” He jerked his head at where Roxanne sat, still as a rock. Then he hurried out into the hall.

  Walters rummaged through his desk drawers until he finally found a roll of duct tape. “This won’t hurt,” he told Roxanne with a grin that reminded her of Batman’s Joker.

  “Why are you doing this? You haven’t committed any real crimes yet. Killing four people isn’t something you can get away with.”

  “Unfortunately, it’s the only course of action left.” The judge wrapped tape around Roxanne’s ankles as he spoke.

  When he started on her hands, she debated whether or not she could overcome him before Gordon returned. Too late. She heard the front door open and the driver’s footsteps in the hall. In a last ditch effort, she used her fingers to support her wrists while the judge wrapped the duct tape.

  Distracted by Gordon’s maneuvers as he spread gasoline around the office, Walters didn’t notice the small gap between her wrist and the chair. He wound the tape only twice before he ripped it off.

  “I need more gas.” With the room only half covered in the flammable liquid, Gordon held the can upside down to tap out the few remaining drops before he rushed out.

  The judge watched him go, then turned to Roxanne with a small smile. “Well, my dear, I guess this is good-bye.”

  - 29 -

  Gordon returned and made quick work of saturating the rest of the paper and part of the Oriental rug near the fireplace. Then he dropped two logs onto the floor and watched the flames leap.

  Roxanne almost gagged at the smell of gasoline. It filled her nostrils as tongues of fire started to dance around the room. Trapped in the chair, she remembered streaks of orange blue shooting into the sky—reducing her beautiful home, once Roxy’s, to a pile of ashes.

  Now there were lives at stake.

  Roxanne counted on being able to loosen the tape around her wrists once Gordon and Walters departed. It felt like forever until the judge’s henchman saluted her and left..

  The second he closed the door, she began to twist her hands to free them from the tape. She pulled, tugged and squished her right hand in order to slip out of the silver binding. The heat of the blaze at her back grew as she glanced at the kids.

  Sasha’s eyes were wide with panic and tears flowed down her cheeks. Both children wiggled and squirmed on the floor, trying to gain their footing. Using their feet and butts, they resembled caterpillars as they attempted to get away from the encroaching flames.

  Len Jr. studied Roxanne, nodding his head in encouragement when she freed her right hand. She massaged the numbness out before struggling to extricate her left. When she couldn’t locate the edge to peel the tape back, she sacrificed a layer of skin on her knuckles to wrench her fingers free.

  Even though the kids were at the opposite side of the room, the fire began to spread so fast she knew they didn’t have much longer.

  She unwrapped her ankles in double time and glanced around the judge’s desk for something to cut the tape on the kids. Finding nothing, she peeled the duct tape from their mouths, grasped Len Jr. by the shoulders and lifted him to his feet. At least their feet weren’t tied, so they could run. She unwound the duct tape binding his hands and nodded toward Sasha. “Help her!”

  Len worked at freeing his sister while Roxanne studied the unconscious man on the floor. He was so large, she didn’t know if they could move him, but she was unwilling to let him die. She grabbed his arms and pulled. He moved an inch before her strength gave out. Then Leonard’s boy pushed her aside.

  “Get out of here while you can.” Roxanne coughed as she inhaled a lungful of smoke. Flames licked at the chair she’d been sitting in and circled around the perimeter of the library.

  “Not leaving you and him in here,” he said with determination. “You and Sasha take his arms, I’ll take his feet.”

  Sasha appeared to have recovered from her fear. She nodded at Roxanne as she gripped one of the man’s arms, oblivious to the blue and yellow fingers of flame crawling by her foot. Roxanne clutched his other arm and together they slid the man into the hall where the air remained clear for now. They gulped oxygen into their lungs while Roxanne kicked the door shut to try to contain the smoke.

  All three struggled with moving the unconscious man down the long hall. They didn’t dare stop to rest since black vapor already seeped out through the bottom of the door. Roxanne summoned all her strength and pulled as hard as she could, making Sasha and her brother scramble to keep up.

  Finally, they reached the exterior door. It was locked with a deadbolt that required a key to open from both sides. Roxann
e fought tears and searched for an alternative exit.

  The kitchen was on the other side of the library; the living room windows were too high to lift the man over the sill and she saw nothing heavy enough to break through the solid oak door in front of them.

  Len Jr. dropped the man’s legs and ran into the living room. He grabbed an iron poker from the cold fireplace and began to pound at the stained glass sidelight window.

  As he battered the edges to free the lead from the corners, the frame gradually began to bend. When there was a large enough opening to push the limp body through, Sasha crawled outside and pulled while Len Jr. and Roxanne pushed. The unconscious man would have a few cuts and bruises when he woke up but at least he’d be alive.

  With a high-five, Roxanne gestured for Len to precede her through the window. She took one last look around before she twisted to the outside. The place must have had silent alarms since sirens filled the night, growing closer.

  Two fire trucks sped into the driveway followed by an ambulance, and the sheriff’s SUV with Pete driving. Callahan sat beside the sheriff. The volunteer firemen jumped out and grabbed a battering ram to smash open the front door. A wall of orange flickered inside.

  A member of the medical team called, “Does someone need attention?”

  Roxanne pointed toward the man she believed was named Edward, lying on his back in the snow a few feet away from the house. “You should take a look at him. He’s unconscious.”

  As the EMTs ran over to administer to the fallen man, Pete and Callahan rushed up to where Roxanne and the kids slumped against Roxy’s car. Callahan pulled Roxanne into a bear hug. She held him tight. Nothing had ever felt as good as his arms wrapped around her.

  Pete smiled at Len Jr. and Sasha. “You’re safe! God, you gave us a scare!”

  “We were more frightened than you, I’m sure.” The boy held out his hand for Pete to shake, but instead the new sheriff pulled him into a man hug. Then he turned to Sasha and did the same.

  The young girl broke into tears when he released her. “I thought we were goners for sure,” she sobbed. “Mom and Dad need to know we’re safe. Can you tell them?”

  “I called them as soon as I spotted you. They should be on their way.” Callahan spoke over Roxanne’s shoulder but did not let her go.

  When a car accelerated up the driveway and jolted to a stop, Roxanne turned in Callahan’s arms. “I think they’re here.”

  Len Jr. and Sasha rushed to their parents before they had the doors open. The four of them clung to each other, tears of joy streaming down their faces.

  Roxanne blinked back tears watching them. “Thank God we found them.”

  Pete came over to stand next to Callahan. “How did that happen?”

  “You could say we sort of stumbled upon each other.” She smiled at the sight of the reunited family. Leaning against Callahan, she spoke to Pete. “So, did you get Pearse and Seamus?”

  “Yeah, what a cluster-fuck! Sam and Henry walked right up to the cabin and knocked on the door. Since the Irish dudes didn’t know them, Pearse refused to let them in at first. Sam played the helpless female to the hilt. As soon as Pearse cracked the door an inch, Henry forced it open and took him down. Seamus gave up when he saw Sam’s gun pointed at him.”

  “Sounds like it went pretty easy,” Roxanne said.

  Callahan snickered. “It did until Pastor Jones stuck his nose in and almost let them get away.”

  “What?” She remained in Callahan’s embrace but twisted to include both men. “That man is a pain in the…”

  “He’s Bud’s problem now. We arrested him for aiding and abetting,” Pete interrupted her.

  Roxanne had to smile. “I don’t believe it. He’ll cause quite a stink, you know.”

  Callahan shook his head. “He can try, but he’s in deep shit. Seamus claims he knew they were on his property all along. He agreed to hide them for a 10% cut of the money. Now, they can all share a cell.”

  “That two-bit, lousy hypocrite. He deserves to be in jail.” She huffed out a breath and broke free of Callahan’s grip. Then she grabbed both their hands. “But we don’t have time to deal with him now. We’ve got to stop the judge. He’s on his way to the Allegheny County Airport where a plane’s waiting.”

  “What?” They stared at her.

  “It’s a long story. I’ll fill you in on the way. Now, come on. We need to get moving.” Roxanne pulled them toward the sheriff’s SUV.

  - 30 -

  Pete turned the flashing lights on his vehicle before the three of them sped through town.

  Callahan leaned forward from the back seat to speak to Roxanne. “Now, you want to tell us what we’re doing chasing down a Supreme Court justice?”

  As they headed for the interstate ramp, Roxanne told her story. She finished by saying what she thought: Judge Walters had gone mad. In the silence that followed, Pete glanced at her with concern and Callahan patted her shoulder.

  Finally Pete spoke. “You’re certain Judge Walters is behind it all?”

  Roxanne lost the composure she’d fought so hard to maintain. “You don’t have to take my word for it. Ask the kids. Ask Edward when he regains consciousness!”

  “Who’s Edward?” Callahan asked.

  “He works for the judge. Or at least he did before Gordon knocked him out and threw him in with us to die.”

  “Gordon?” Pete said as he blasted his siren at a slow moving vehicle in the passing lane.

  “His driver. I don’t know last names. I guess they no longer had any use for Edward but Gordon is going to South America with Walters. The judge has the money Roxy found. We’ve got to stop them!” Roxanne ran her fingers through her hair. “I don’t know any specifics about their plan.”

  “I’ll contact air traffic control at the airport and get them to delay the take off.” Callahan pulled out his phone, then hesitated. “I don’t suppose you know the tail number of the plane?”

  She scoffed. “Are you kidding? I’m lucky I know there’s a plane at all. It could be a Lear jet or it could be some tiny single-engine model.”

  “If they’re planning on going to South America, it should be something substantial,” Pete said.

  “I’ll see what I can find out.” Callahan sat back and punched buttons on his phone.

  Roxanne turned to Pete. “This is not a wild goose chase. The judge is serious about his plans.”

  “I believe you.” He swerved around another slow-poke in the left lane. “I just don’t know how to handle it if we catch up with him.”

  “When we catch him.” Callahan leaned forward again. “There’s a private jet on the runway waiting for passengers to arrive. Don’t know who chartered it but it’s not going anywhere. They agreed to not give it clearance for take off until we get there.”

  Roxanne let out a sigh of relief. “Thank God!”

  “Can you get us some back up?” Pete asked. “We don’t know what kind of resistance we’ll run into.”

  “Already done,” Callahan told him. “The County Police patrol the airport but the West Mifflin Police are on alert if we need them.”

  “There’s only two men.” Roxanne tried to calm her jitters. “How much of a fight can they put up? Gordon is a trained sniper but I doubt the judge will present much of a challenge.”

  “You never know,” Callahan said. “A good sniper can create quite a stand-off.”

  Roxanne slumped in her seat even as tension wound her nerves tight enough to shatter. When they approached the cut-off for I-279, she told Pete to take the exit.

  “Are you sure?” he asked. “My GPS is sending us straight.”

  “At this time of night, it’s quicker to go through town.” Roxanne rubbed her forehead to relieve the pressure. “Trust me. I’ve lived here most all my life.”

  “Try to get us an escort from the Pittsb
urgh police to get through town.” Pete lifted his eyes to Callahan in the rearview mirror.

  Callahan nodded and turned his attention to his phone again as Roxanne clasped and unclasped her hands in her lap. The closer they came to confronting Judge Walters, the greater her apprehension.

  “All set,” he announced from the rear seat. “A cruiser will meet us near where the HOV lanes begin and escort us through the Liberty Tunnels to Rt. 51. We’re on our own when we leave the city limits.”

  They rode in silence until Roxanne pointed out the Pittsburgh Police van waiting for them. With a flip of his siren, Pete fell in behind them. They raced through the city and onto the Liberty Bridge.

  Roxanne felt a pang of nostalgia as they followed the route she had taken so many times to her old condo in Mt. Washington but she pushed any melancholy aside to concentrate on their goal.

  Her unease intensified when they entered the circular drive to the airport. From behind her, she heard the click of Callahan checking his gun. Pete pulled alongside a county police cruiser and rolled down his window to alert them to the situation. The officer nodded, pulled a U-turn and led them onto one of the two runways near an open hangar where they saw several corporate jets parked.

  They continued down the runway, past a large hangar marked Jet Airways until they came to an area where a lone jet sat idling next to several carts filled with boxes. Pete braked next to the county van when it stopped behind one of the largest carts. The officer pointed at the jet, indicating it was the one they were looking for as he opened his door to join them.

  He had one foot out the door when he staggered, clutched at his shoulder, then fell. Roxanne could hardly believe her eyes. Instinctively, she ducked behind the dashboard as low as she could.

  “Shit! He’s been shot,” Pete pulled closer to the crates for cover and jumped out to drag the county cop out of the line of fire.

  Roxanne’s stomach plummeted at the realization that Gordon’s skills weren’t so rusty after all. All the times he’d shot at her and missed must have been intentional misses. Now, though, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill.