by E B Corbin
Roxanne nodded as she pulled from his grasp, folded her arms and leaned against the nearest wall.
“I told you I’ve been seriously thinking about leaving my position with the DSS to come back here and stay with Gramps. I know he doesn’t need it right now or even want it, but he’s not getting any younger. Whether or not I agree to help Sylvia has nothing to do with you.” Callahan stopped and lifted her chin so she had to meet his eyes. “Unless you want it to.”
“Jesus, Callahan, I’m not trying to be difficult here. I’m a little overwhelmed by all this.”
“I understand. I would be too. That’s why I didn’t want you saying something to Sylvia you might regret later. You need time to absorb the changes. I’m trying to give you that time.”
“Thanks, I guess. But I can’t imagine practicing law in a tiny place like this. Even part time would drive me crazy. I can’t imagine you’d be happy with it either.”
“A little less pressure and stress can’t hurt anybody.”
“Less stress? Are you kidding? I’ve been more stressed these past few days than any other time in my life.”
“It won’t always be like this. How many Irish terrorists do you think come to town?”
Roxanne had no comeback. “Not many, I’d guess. Maybe you’re right. I’ll think about it. But right now, I’ve got to get moving and check out what’s happening at the diner.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
Scanning the diner’s parking lot Roxanne noted more vehicles than expected. Not bad for two o’clock on a Friday afternoon. It gave her a peculiar sense of pride in ownership. She suspected only locals frequented the restaurant around this time. The weekend warriors were still trapped in the city, dreaming of an escape into the woods with rifles in hand.
Roxanne stepped inside, pleased when all seemed in order. Some of the patrons glanced at her when she entered then went back to their food without a second look. Janice and another waitress delivered plates to hungry diners.
Snukie stood behind the register, fidgeting with the credit card reader. The pitiful excuse for a smile she offered the irritated man in front of her telegraphed her discomfort. “Sorry. I’m not used to this thing. Just give me a minute, please.”
When she noticed Roxanne, she waved her over. “Do you know how to work this?”
Roxanne turned her attention to the machine. She’d never used one in her life, only watched as clerks swiped her card through a slot on the registers. “I’m afraid not.”
“Never mind,” the irate customer said. “I’ll give you cash.” The man searched through his wallet while his female companion sighed at the delay.
“Thank you so much,” Snukie breathed. “I’m real sorry about this. I’ll see that it doesn’t happen again.”
The man handed her a twenty, took his change with a grunt. Although he didn’t leave in a huff, his stiff body language reflected his annoyance.
“Do you think he’ll be back?” Roxanne asked Snukie.
“More ’n likely. He and his wife come in every Friday. They like the meatloaf special. We’re the only place with it on the menu anymore. One of the other two restaurants in town switched to all fancy vegan alternatives that don’t go over well around here. The other place is a hole-in-the-wall specializing in grease.” When Oscar called out an order was ready, Snukie left Roxanne behind the register. In one continuous move, Snukie grabbed three plates and headed for a table in the middle of the room.
“Well, that’s good,” Roxanne muttered to the empty air beside her. When Callahan arrived he found her standing behind the cash register looking perplexed. She threw him an absent-minded wave.
“You taking over already?”
“I’m trying to figure out how to use this damn credit card thingy.”
He laughed. “Some owner you are. How do you expect to make any money if you can’t work a cash register?”
“Snukie asked for my help.”
“She can’t work it either?”
“Not the credit card swiper. Patti acted as the cashier most of the time. But Snukie can learn if we can find somebody to show her how it works.”
“Patti can teach her.”
“Yeah, right.” Roxanne snorted. “I’m sure Patti would be happy to train someone to take over for her.”
Callahan took in the customers without moving his head. “Things seem to be going well. At least, it’s not a disaster.”
“Not yet, but I’ve got to reassure Snukie that she’s capable of doing the job.” Roxanne tended the register until Snukie returned.
She gave Roxanne an uneasy smile. “Sorry, boss, we don’t get too many credit cards. That was the first one today.”
“We’ll work something out.” Roxanne hoped she spoke the truth. “In the meantime, if you get any more credit cards before we do, ask if they could please pay with cash this time. Offer a free coffee to go or a 10% discount for cash. Tell them the machine’s broken, and we’ll get it fixed as soon as possible.”
“Great idea.” Snukie’s obvious relief broke through the frown on her face. “They all like somethin’ for nothin’.”
Roxanne asked, “Everything else going okay?”
“Yeah, no other problems. We had good breakfast and lunch crowds. Tomorrow should be even busier. I’d like Stacy to come in again if it’s all right with you.”
“Fine, whatever you need—you’re in charge. I’ll check back before I leave town.” Roxanne smiled at Snukie, hoping to give the waitress’s confidence a boost.
The smile disappeared as soon as Roxanne stepped into the parking lot with Callahan. “What the hell am I going to do?” she asked with trepidation.
“Someone in town besides Patti must be able to work those things. Sylvia might know. If not, she can find a person willing to teach Snukie.”
“It feels awkward to ask Sylvia a favor when I didn’t jump at the chance to help her out.”
“You can always change your mind about her proposal.”
“Maybe.” Roxanne kicked a piece of gravel.
“Let’s go talk to Patti. See how she’s doing.” Callahan guided Roxanne to her truck.
“Like I care.” Roxanne dug for her keys. “You can’t mean I should ask her to return to work.”
“Don’t think anything yet. I need to determine how much she was involved with Taggart and the IRA first.”
“Shit. This is turning into a damned nightmare again.”
“You certainly are a glass-half-empty kind of gal.”
“The whole glass will be empty if I don’t figure something out.” Roxanne turned as they reached the pickup. “Do you want to ride with me?”
“No, Patti’s place is just through the woods. We could walk if it weren’t for a foot of snow. I’ll grab the SUV and show you where the driveway starts. It might not be shoveled.”
As she followed Callahan along the snow-covered lane leading to the trailer, doubts crept in like shadows forming when the sun slips behind a cloud. What if Patti was angry? Roxanne still felt guilty. The waitress was grieving over Luke and Roxanne didn’t blame Patti for any ill temper. Yet Patti had threatened her twice already; would this be the third and final time?
No way would Roxanne ask Patti for her help at the diner. This was a bad idea.
Callahan parked the SUV off to the right side, leaving enough space to not block Roxanne’s truck should they need to get out of here fast.
Callahan knocked on the driver’s window, causing her to jump and hit her head on the truck roof. Laughing, he motioned her to step out.
After hesitating a fraction of a second, Roxanne stepped to the ground. She expected a wintry chill to greet her. Instead, the pines blocked any wind and the clean scent of pine sap filled the air. Roxanne took a deep breath to soothe her nerves before approaching Patti.
Callahan started for the trailer. “Let’s get this over with.”
Roxanne followed, lagging as much as she dared. While Callahan stepped up to the tiny porch to knock on the
metal door, Roxanne rested one foot on the low step keeping the other firmly planted on the ground, ready to bolt.
When Patti swung the door open, she held a small pistol in her hand. “What are you two doin’ here? Ya want your pound of flesh?” The black stitches on her forehead stood out in stark contrast to her pale skin and the blazing red of her hair. The roots showed an inch of brown, a testament to her natural color and the rest hung in limp strands not having seen a comb or brush today.
“We need to talk.” From behind Callahan, Roxanne tried to keep an eye on the gun while assessing Patti’s expression.
Callahan stood stock still, his face empty of any emotion, as if he didn’t notice anything amiss. “Do you mind if we come in?”
“Yeah, I mind. Who in hell do ya think ya are?” Patti pointed the pistol at Callahan. “Dammit! Why can’t ya leave me alone!”
“We don’t want to cause trouble,” Roxanne added quickly before Patti could slam the door in their faces. “Why don’t you put the gun down and talk to us.”
“I don’t have nothin’’ to say. Go away.”
“Can’t do that.” Callahan stepped forward on one foot, pushed Patti’s arm aside with his left forearm, while he grabbed the pistol with his right hand. In one move, he stuck the gun in his jacket pocket smirking at Patti. “Now, do you mind?” His tone conveyed he wouldn’t take no for an answer.
Patti stared at him, her mouth opening then closing without a sound.
Roxanne took hold of Callahan’s arm. “We should go.” She turned to Patti. “I’m sorry if we upset you. It wasn’t our intention. We merely wanted to clear a few things up.”
“Ya might as well come in.” Patti’s belligerence deflated as she gestured them inside with an exaggerated sigh.
“You have a nice place here.” The trailer appeared neat and clean, not what Roxanne expected. A brown overstuffed sofa occupied the wall facing them. A recliner sat angled to the side, with a flat-screen TV mounted near the ceiling across from the seating area. The tiny kitchen revealed the same spotless housekeeping, the only clutter a bottle of Jim Beam sitting on the counter next to a half-empty glass of amber liquid. Roxanne thought of Callahan’s analogy about the glass and changed her thinking to the glass being half-full.
Patti shrugged. “Cut the shit. Whadda ya want?”
“Well, um, I wanted to make sure you were all right. Head wounds can be tricky.”
“I’m fine.” Patti reached across the small partition separating the kitchen from the living room and grabbed the glass of whiskey. “Whadda ya care?”
“We don’t.” The coldness in Callahan’s voice took Roxanne by surprise. “We were wondering what you plan to do now.”
“Don’t have no plans. Don’t have a future. I’m done. Jist tryin’ to get by.” Patti glowered at Roxanne. “Did ya come to throw me outta my home?”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because Roxy gave me this trailer, prob’ly yours now too.”
“Well, I saw nothing in the will about a trailer. Although it could be in one of the trust documents. I haven’t read through all of them yet. But I doubt it.”
Patti looked thoughtful. “So… ya think it’s really mine?”
“What did Roxy tell you when she gave it to you?” Roxanne asked.
“She gave me a piece of paper, a deed or somethin’, but I always figured there was a catch.”
“Not that I know.” Roxanne searched her memory. “I went over the will twice this morning. There was no specific mention of a trailer. Whose name is on the deed Roxy gave you?”
“Mine, but I still think of this place as Roxy’s.”
“It’s probably yours,” Roxanne told her while praying she wasn’t giving Patti false hope. “You can do what you want with it.”
“Ya sure ’bout that?”
“If your name is on the deed, you own it.” Roxanne had faith in her vague memory of real estate law.
“Well, I haven’t paid any taxes on it in all the years I’ve lived here. The town or state prob’ly owns it now.”
“I’ll check. Roxy may have taken care of the taxes.” Roxanne had no intention of continuing that practice. “I’ll see you get any tax bills as they arrive.”
Patti took a long swallow of the whiskey before she sat the glass on a low table in front of the sofa. “Sounds like somethin’ she’d do. I guess I owe her even more than I thought.”
Callahan leaned forward. “I don’t think she expected repayment of any kind. Roxy liked you. Besides, she counted on your skills running the diner.”
“Yeah? How would you know?”
“She talked to my grandfather about a lot of things including her plans for you.”
“They include leavin’ me outta her will?”
“Her concern was your relationship with Luke. She didn’t want to leave you the diner while Luke could interfere with it because she feared he would take advantage of you and anything you had.”
Patti turned watery eyes to Roxanne. “Well, you took care of that, didn’t ya? No more Luke to cause me problems.”
“Patti, I’m sorry. I never meant for him to die. I was scared shitless and he was coming to kill me, like you told him.”
Patti hung her head. “Yeah, but I didn’t mean it. I get pushed out of shape about somethin’ and go overboard. Roxy knew that about me. Luke knows me well enough to not buy into my crazy shit.” Patti wiped a sniffle. “Or he did… Roxy and Luke always talked me down from my harebrained schemes. God, I’m sorry. This whole thing got way outta hand. It’s a lousy mess, and it’s all my fault!” Patti sank onto the sofa, sobbing.
Uncertain what to do, Roxanne turned to Callahan, who only shrugged. She tried to soothe the waitress by saying, “There, there, now, it’ll be all right,” but the words sounded bogus, as she sat beside Patti and lightly patted the whimpering waitress’s back in hesitant, shaky taps.
Callahan knelt in front of Patti. “Patti, I need you to pull yourself together. I have a few questions for you, and I need your complete cooperation. Can you do that?”
Patti sat upright, wiped her dripping nose on her sleeve, then used her hands to wipe the tear tracks from her face. “Whadda ya need? Can’t ya jist leave me alone.”
“I need to find out how much you were involved with Dan O’Malley, his friends and the IRA money.”
“I wasn’t involved in that at all,” Patti burst out. “I told Luke to stay outta it, too.” Patti shook her head. “He never listened anythin’ I tried to tell him.”
“The night before Roxy was shot, did you help him hide a bag full of cash?”
“He said it was for our weddin’. We were gonna get marri—” Patti broke into sobs again then brought herself under control in a flash. “I only agreed to keep it for one night.”
Callahan gentled his voice. “You know Luke shot Roxy, don’t you?”
“No! It didn’t have to be Luke. It coulda been Doyle or Dolan or somebody else.” Patti was adamant.
“And why would they think Roxy had the cash?” Callahan asked.
“Maybe Luke told ’em or maybe they saw Luke takin’ it or maybe… Oh, I don’t know! Maybe the cash had nothin’ to do with it. It coulda been some hunter ’fraid of getting’ caught, the way Luke said. No way will I ever believe he shot Roxy.”
“Okay, to be clear,” Callahan continued, “You never heard about the IRA or the plans for them to retrieve the money?”
Patti hesitated. Her eyes drifted to the left of the coffee table. “No, I didn’t know nothin’ ’bout any IRA. I didn’t even know the damned cash belonged to them.”
“Where did you think it came from?”
Patti hesitated again, buying precious time to come up with a new lie. “Could be they robbed a bank or somethin’. Didn’t much care.” Surely Callahan wouldn’t fall for Patti’s guile; she lied like a three-year-old coated in stolen cookie crumbs.
His face remained perfectly neutral. “I have one more question.” He stood, mo
ving across the narrow room. “Do you have any of Luke’s rifles or know where they are?”
“His rifles? He kept ’em at his place, locked up in a gun cabinet. They were his pride and joy.”
Callahan continued, “Okay. Do you have any rifles around?”
“Jist the one Roxy gave me for protection. But it got stolen a coupla months ago when I forgot to lock up the trailer.” Patti screwed up her eyes, glaring up at him. “Why do ya wanna know?”
“Well, you seem to have an endless supply of hand guns. Thought I’d better check.” Callahan leaned against the flimsy wall. “I know this is hard, but I need to ask these questions to determine if I should arrest you.”
“Arrest me? For what?”
“Conspiracy. Kidnapping. Terrorism. A number of other things.”
Roxanne twitched. What the hell? Was that all the charges he could come up with? “How about adding attempted murder?” The words popped out before she could swallow them.
Patti snickered. “Ya can’t prove none of it. It’s your word against mine.”
“Which one of us do you think they’ll believe?” Every bit of empathy Roxanne felt for Patti evaporated.
“No reason they should think I’m lying’. I’m the victim, after all.”
“Of what?” Roxanne squeaked.
“Of everything! You’ve been out to get me ever since you showed up in town. I’ve got the stitches on my face to prove it!” Patti pointed a finger at her forehead. “You’re tryin’ to steal the diner from me, ‘cept you can’t find anything to prove Roxy left it to you.”
“But I can prove it. I found the will,” Roxanne told her.
Patti’s eyes widened at the news, though she pulled herself together in short order. “Which one? The one you claim is good? Or maybe one ya made up yourself. You lawyers are all alike… a bunch of cheatin’ shysters.”
“All of Roxy’s holdings are in a living trust. I’m the beneficiary and executor of the trust, so it doesn’t matter what the will you found says. I control the diner, for all intents and purposes.”
