by E B Corbin
She remained hidden, her gun pointed at the door, though it kept drooping toward the floor. The small pistol felt like a cannon as her hand cramped. She heard more footsteps on the porch. They halted outside. Finally, Roxanne heard one last smash of a fist accompanied by a grunt.
Then silence.
“Well, look at that!” came a voice from outside. “I guess we got here just in time. You haven’t lost your touch.”
“Hell, don’t just stand there, cuff him. I’ll check on the others.” Callahan’s voice. Thank God!
At those words, Roxanne lowered the gun while keeping her grip. She rested her head against the tables, slumped in relief.
Callahan caught sight of her as he bent to check on Luke. “Christ, Roxanne! What are you doing here? Are you okay?’”
As she raised her face to him, her hands automatically came up too—the Beretta pointed straight at Callahan’s chest.
“Don’t shoot!” He raised his arms.
The gun slipped slowly through her numb fingers finally falling to the floor. “Dammit, you could have shown up sooner,” she told him, her voice quivering.
“Are you hurt?”
“No, just scared shitless.”
When she tried to stand her legs wobbled, her hands shook. The top table tumbled, causing her to nearly collapse onto the repugnant mattress. Callahan jumped over Luke’s motionless form grabbing her before she landed on the putrid thing.
He pulled her close to his chest. “You scared me half to death.”
“Only half?” Tears filled her eyes leaking onto her cheeks. “Shit, I was terrified.”
“I’m sorry, babe. We got here as soon as we could.”
She wiped away the offending tears. “How did you know I was here?”
“I didn’t. Not ’til I saw you pointing a gun at me.”
“Sorry… reflex.” She sniffled, but her fear overrode her pride, so she didn’t leave the safety of his arms.
He nodded at the body on the floor. “Who shot him?”
“I did. That Irish bastard wanted him to kill me.”
“Hmmm…”
Roxanne feared he didn’t believe her so she rambled. “In the last couple of hours, both Taggart and Patti told him to shoot me, so…”
“Patti too? She’s here?” Callahan whistled through his teeth. “Good thing I stuck a tracker on her car.”
“No, she’s not here—probably still at the diner. What made you stick a tracker on her car?”
“I had a hunch. Nothing specific.”
“Well, thank God you did.”
“Can you explain what she’s got to do with this mess?”
“Uh, no, not really… I don’t know… It’s a long story.” Reluctantly she moved out of his embrace. “Look, can we talk about this later? I’m—”
Gabe stepped into the doorway. “Can I break this up for a minute?”
“Come in. I’m getting a few details from Roxanne.”
Gabe eyeballed Roxanne. “What the hell is she doing here?”
Before they answered, Luke groaned. Three sets of eyes turned in his direction. He twitched once, then fell still.
“Better call an ambulance,” Callahan said. “A couple of them.”
“Already done. Two dead, two wounded. The dead can stay here for the coroner; the wounded can both go in the same ambulance. I doubt they have more than one in this half-assed place.” Gabe gave Roxanne a quick glance. “Do you need one too?”
“God, no! I’m not going near another hospital.”
“Are you sure you’re not hurt?” Callahan asked. “You should have a doctor look at you. Your cheek’s bleeding.” He gently rubbed a little blood onto his finger showing her the evidence.
“Just a scratch. Wood chips.”
“Still…”
“Still, nothing. I’m not going to the hospital.”
“I think we’ve been through this before.” Callahan met her eyes with a hint of humor in his.
“Not. Going,” she repeated, punching Callahan lightly on the chest with the back of her hand. She spun around, almost stumbling over Luke. “Jesus Christ! Why don’t you move this bastard so I can get out of here into the fresh air? Smells like a garbage dump in here.”
Without waiting for Callahan or Gabe to do as she asked, she stepped over Luke, walked through the living room, focused wholly on the open doorway.
Taggart murmured “bitch” as she passed.
She didn’t even slow down. “Asshole,” she muttered in return as she stepped onto the porch, inhaling a deep breath of fresh frigid air and hoping the worst was over— or was it? She banished that last thought to the back of her numb brain.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The cold, night breeze seared her lungs, but she kept moving until she reached the edge of the porch. Leaning against the rounded log supporting the dilapidated roof, thoughts about the last couple of hours pushed into her mind while she shivered inside and out. She sank onto the top step, staring into the night.
Footsteps moved in and out of the cabin. The ambulance arrived at some point, the EMTs jumped out running past her without a glance. Voices came from inside but she paid scant attention.
“This one’s got lividity; he’s gone.”
“So’s this one,” another voice said. “Two for the morgue.”
Gabe replied, “I’ll see to it.”
“Well, no need for them to hurry, is there?” one of the EMTs snickered.
“I’m hurting’ here. D’ya get me?” Taggart moaned from the floor.
Callahan answered, “Shut up. They’ll get to you.” He added, “Hey guys, check out the one in the other room. He’s been shot in the chest.”
“On it.” Footsteps faded fast, followed by low murmurs.
One of the EMTs ran past Roxanne pulling a stretcher from the back of the ambulance, rolling it into the cabin. In a few minutes both EMTs jostled the stretcher past Roxanne. She tried to stand to give them more room; found her legs wouldn’t cooperate. She hugged the pillar instead. The EMTs managed to get the stretcher down the wide steps into the back of the emergency vehicle, where one of them began connecting tubes and wires to Luke’s still form.
The second EMT returned to the cabin. “Can this one walk? We only have one stretcher.”
“Shite! I cain’t do anything with my hands cuffed like this.”
“We could move the cuffs around to the front,” Callahan told the EMT. “He’s dangerous. He needs to stay restrained. No matter what.”
Roxanne heard the keys turn in the cuffs; the clink when they released. She tensed, not knowing what to expect.
With a lot of complaining from Taggart, the cuffs snapped back into place in seconds.
“Feck-all, this ain’t right! I’m injured. Yee lads ain’t treatin’ me right!”
“I said shut up.” Callahan’s voice held nothing but disdain. “Ron, help us get this bastard on his feet.”
“Rubbish! I cain’t walk!”
“Then you can lay here. Bleed to death for all I care,” Callahan replied.
“Shite, yee feckers, get me up.”
“Now, sir, you should try to remain calm,” the EMT instructed, his voice soothing but firm. “We can’t fit both of them in the back of the ambulance. The one on the stretcher might go into cardiac arrest at any time. I need to stay with him.”
“We can’t let this fucker ride in the front. A law enforcement officer needs to be with him at all times.” Callahan ran his hands through his hair and looked around as if hoping to find an answer in the frigid woods.
“I’ll take him in the car,” Gabe offered. “Ron can ride in the ambulance, so we’ll have both of them covered.”
“Sounds good. I’ll catch up with you at the hospital. Let’s move this piece of shit.”
Taggart cursed and groaned as the EMTs propped him between them. “Jaysus Christ! I cain’t put me weight on it.”
“Lean on us.” The EMT’s voice held no sympathy.
Roxanne heard shuffling, curses, and grunts behind her. Frozen in place, she couldn’t move more than her head. Slowly, she brought her eyes from the ambulance to the stumbling man coming up beside her. She felt nothing, not anger, not compassion, not even satisfaction that the evil man had been stopped. The emptiness inside her left no room to gloat. She watched with flat eyes as Taggart fell into the rear of the Buick, grumbling all the way, without a glance toward her.
The Buick followed the ambulance out the dirt road, leaving Roxanne alone with Callahan. He sat on the top step beside her, pulling her into his warmth. She felt the iciness in her veins begin to melt.
“Dammit, I’m sorry,” she said.
“For what?”
“I feel like this mess is my fault.”
“Hey?” Callahan touched her chin gently turning her head to face him. “No way is this your fault. I’m just glad we got here in time.”
She shivered. “Yeah, me too.”
“Now, I need to ask you some questions. Are you up to it?”
“Yes, but first, is Luke going to make it?”
“Don’t know. Does it matter?”
“I’ve never killed a man before, so I think it matters.”
“It was self-defense. You had no choice.”
“I truly believe it was him or me—I know it in my head—but I can’t seem to accept it.”
“It might take some time. All this has to be a little overwhelming for you.”
“More than a little. I’m a god-damned attorney, a desk jockey; I’m not used to fighting with anything more than words.”
“You did what needed to be done. Believe it.”
“But still—”
“Shh, you did good.” Callahan pushed a stray lock of hair away from her face. “You’re still alive. That’s all that matters.”
Her lips parted; no words came out.
“Now, can you tell me how you happened to be out here, trapped in that room?”
“Well…” She paused to collect her thoughts. Where to begin? “I stopped at the diner to look for the will, and Patti tried to pass off an old will as the current one.”
“Why would she do that?”
“The older will left the diner and Roxy’s house in the city to her, along with all Roxy’s cash.”
“You weren’t mentioned in it?”
“Yeah, I got the farm. What the hell would I want with a farm?” She pulled away a little to peer into his eyes. “Roxy had to know I didn’t know shit about farming. I would never keep it.”
“Maybe she hoped you’d change your ways.”
“Yeah, like that’s gonna happen.” Roxanne let out a tiny snort. “Especially when Judge Walters offered me over a million for it.”
“More than the diner and house in the city combined. She left you the most valuable thing she owned.”
Roxanne shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. Patti showed me a will drawn up in 2012. The copy I found at the cabin had a newer date. I remember the date was my birthday, the year 2016. When I tried to explain to Patti things were slowly coming back to me, she went nuts.”
“Not completely unexpected. I’ve heard she’s been taking care of that diner like her own ever since Roxy hired her ten years ago. Patti’s father left town before she started first grade. Her mother became the town drunk after her father left. When Patti graduated from high school, her mother threw her out. Roxy gave her a place to live along with a job.”
“Shit.” Roxanne felt a twinge of remorse about her vicious thoughts concerning Patti. But only a smidgeon; Patti did tell Luke to kill her, after all. “Did she live with Roxy?”
“No, Roxy bought a trailer for her. It’s out beside the diner on land Roxy owned.”
“So Patti stood to lose her livelihood and her home. No wonder she wanted me dead.”
Callahan shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a justifiable excuse for murder.”
“Neither do I. Patti turned into a real bitch when I told her about the new will. When Luke came into the office, she turned downright evil. She told Luke to ‘get rid of me’.” Roxanne made finger quotes. “At first, he didn’t want to take the risk, until Patti convinced him they could pull it off by setting it up to look like a break-in to rob the place. They had to wait until the diner closed, so Luke forced me into the trunk of Patti’s car. Next thing I knew, I was here, surrounded by all his buddies.”
“He must really love her to agree to that.”
“I don’t know. I think they’re both crazy as loons.” Roxanne stopped speaking when a sheriff’s SUV roared up to the cabin. Bud Mercer climbed out approaching them with an aggressive stride.
“What the hell happened here?” he demanded. “I saw Dan O’Malley out on the road. The poor guy’s a mess. Mumbling about the two Ds getting shot by some Irish dude.”
“Yep, that’s what happened.” Callahan kept his composure, despite the spitting anger of the deputy.
“I saw an ambulance on the way here too. Why didn’t you call 911?”
Callahan replied, “Not enough time. We needed the ambulance as soon as possible.” He squeezed Roxanne’s shoulder, then stood on the step to tower over the deputy. “We needed to get the situation under control right away.”
“We? Who? Who are you?” Bud would not be placated. “You’re a fed. You can’t come in here and take over.”
“In this situation, we can. We did.”
“Where’s Luke? O’Malley said he left Luke here.”
“He did. Luke’s in the ambulance you passed.”
“Jesus! Is he hurt?”
“He was shot.” Callahan’s poker face gave away no details.
“How bad?” Bud’s voice rose to a pitch not fitting a deputy.
“Pretty bad, I think.”
“That Irish dude shoot him too?”
“No, I did.” Roxanne rose to stand beside Callahan. She took his arm to steady her legs.
“You?” Bud’s eyes narrowed. He looked from Roxanne to Callahan. “You trying to protect her?”
“Now why would I do that? I’m only trying to get all the details straight. So far, it’s self-defense on Roxanne’s part.”
“And you believe that?” Bud shook his head. “Of course you would, I heard you’ve been sniffing around her since she first got here.”
“He’s done more than sniff around.” Roxanne’s voice came out strong and vehement. “He rescued me when someone ran me off the road, chased two men who broke into my condo in Pittsburgh and took me to the hospital when someone knocked me unconscious at my aunt’s cabin. He also just saved me from being shot by Luke.”
Bud huffed, rolling his eyes. “Wow, sounds a bit farfetched if you ask me.”
“Nobody asked you,” Callahan replied.
Bud cleared his throat. “Nevertheless, I’m going to have to take you to the station. I’m sure the chief will want to question you about today’s events.”
Callahan suggested, “You should take a look at the two bodies inside first.”
“What? Who’s inside?”
“Doyle and Dolan.”
“So O’Malley wasn’t crazy. Who shot them—this psycho chick?”
Roxanne sputtered, “They were shot by the crazy Irish dude, not me!”
Bud ignored her outburst. “Why didn’t they go with the ambulance?”
“Because they’re dead,” Callahan replied.
Bud looked poleaxed. He took a step back, staring at the open doorway of the cabin as if he expected the two dead men to come walking out any second with a stiff-legged zombie stride, their threatening arms outstretched searching for a victim.
“If I were you,” Callahan continued, “I’d put up some crime scene tape then call the state police before I did anything else.”
“Shit,” Bud muttered as he walked back to the SUV. He threw a roll of yellow tape to Callahan. “Put this up while I call it in.”
Callahan caught the tape making no attempt to follow Bud’s order.
R
oxanne expected Bud to pull out one of those microphones hooked by a coiled wire to a CB radio in the dash. Instead, he reached into his pocket pulling out a cell phone. He turned his back and walked to the rear of his vehicle making it impossible to hear his words. Gesturing with his free hand, he made his calls.
After about five minutes, he stuck the phone in his pocket while walking toward them shaking his head. “The Staties will be here in about forty-five minutes. That’s as soon as they can make it. I’m supposed to stay here to keep the scene secure.” He turned to glare at Roxanne. “The Chief wants to talk to you about all this. He’s cutting his hunting trip short again. He’s not too happy, I’ll tell you.”
“Get the Chief back on the phone. I want to talk to him,” Callahan ordered.
Bud puffed up like he wanted to refuse, then slowly pulled the phone from his pocket punching a button so hard Roxanne expected his finger to go right through the screen. He handed it to Callahan with a grimace then grabbed the yellow roll of tape, and started wrapping the crime scene tape around the porch blocking the entrance to the cabin.
Roxanne moved out of his way when he got to the steps. She followed Callahan to the middle of the pathway, where he stood waiting for the Chief to answer. Callahan signaled for her to stand by his Suburban. Although Roxanne was dying to know what he said to the Chief, she shuffled over to lean against the bumper. She shivered as the wind picked up.
With a last glance at Callahan, she reached for the passenger-door handle hoping to get some shelter from the biting temperature. The handle slipped through her frozen fingers but the door remained shut.
His expression dead serious, Callahan watched from where he stood talking to the Chief, seemingly paying her no attention as he reached into his jacket pulling out the keys. The SUV’s doors clicked open.
Before she climbed into the sanctuary of the car, she made one last attempt to eavesdrop on Callahan’s conversation. Though she couldn’t make out any words, the steel tone of his voice said he would not be denied. He sounded like giving orders came second nature to him, as if he never took no for an answer.
