by E B Corbin
Roxanne figured she better change the subject. She looked from Niall to Conor. "What do you think happened to Roxy?"
Niall grunted and took another bite of his burger. Conor withdrew his fingers from the french fries and cleared his throat. "We think Tom has her. We were hoping you could confirm that."
Roxanne almost blurted something about the ransom note, but swallowed her words. Not yet, she told herself.
"How on earth would I know? Didn't you talk to Roxy two weeks ago? What did she tell you?"
"She called me from some kinda hospital or rehab facility. Said the people in charge of her care were releasing her to special agents that she didn't trust. She needed to get out of there, fast. But she had to be careful they didn't suspect anything about her plans, so she mostly talked in a type of code we used a long time ago. She gave me directions to her cabin in Oilville and said to meet her there last night to find out more. The GPS in our rental car took us to the turnpike instead of Interstate 80 and it made us two hours late. She wasn't there when we finally arrived."
Roxy was planning to meet them at the cabin? That explained why the unexpected visit with her on the porch had been cut so short.
"She didn't tell you anything else?" Roxanne asked, careful to keep from giving him any hint about the apartment in New York, in case he didn't know about it. "Maybe she thought you weren't going to show and left without you."
"She wouldn't do that," Conor insisted. "I gave her my cell phone number when she first called, so she could have reached us at any time to find out where we were."
"Maybe she thought you didn't make it into the country."
"She still could have called to find out." Conor pulled a fry from the bright red box. "It was a one-way communication. I didn't have any way to reach her, but she could reach me if necessary. I don't want to blow my cover any more than she does."
Out of the blue Roxanne remembered Seth's murder and the hunting knife sticking in his gut. She studied both men, trying to decide if either of them had done the deed while waiting for Roxy. It was a vicious attack and somehow she couldn't picture Conor or even Niall as the perpetrator.
"Now, lassie, why don't ye tell us how to go about findin' Roxy?" Niall wore a fierce expression as he turned to her. The scar on his face gleamed in the firelight, giving him a mean look, but she saw the fear in his eyes. Could it be he was actually afraid for her mother?
She spoke deliberately, letting each phrase drop into the silence with full impact. "I think that's a question you need to ask your brother."
- 7 -
The two men glanced at each other before Conor spoke.
"Let's come at this from another angle. Maybe you should ask your boyfriend what happened. Could be he knows more than he's letting on."
"My what? Boyfriend? I don't have a boyfriend." Her appetite gone, Roxanne dropped a french fry back into its container.
"Roxy said you were hanging out with some fella working for the State Department. She didn't know if she could trust him but was willing to use him if it became necessary. She didn't give me a name. She was no fool--never used names on the phone."
"I am not hanging out with anyone." She slouched in the chair and folded her arms in front of her body.
"This is gettin' us nowhere," Niall cut in. "I say we ditch the lassie and get on with it."
"She's the only lead we've got at the moment," Conor told him before turning to Roxanne. "Do you have any idea why Roxy didn't trust these people?"
She didn't have an answer. Why wouldn't Roxy trust Callahan? As far as she knew, everything he'd done so far had been aboveboard. Could it be Chester she doubted? Not likely, given what the old man had done for her, up to and including saving her life. It didn't make any sense. But if she didn't trust one or both of them, that would explain her showing up in Oilville with no notice. Why didn't Roxy say anything to her when she had the chance?
Roxanne finally said, "I haven't a clue."
"Well, she's seldom wrong about things like that." Niall belched loudly then settled back against his chair. "You want the rest of those fries?"
Roxanne pushed the box across the table and turned to Conor. "Listen, the local police know Roxy's missing and so does Chester Callahan. I'm sure they'll both do everything they can to find her."
"Chester Callahan? He's still alive?" Conor seemed surprised. "Thought for sure he'd be dead by now."
"He's close to ninety, but he's still as sharp as ever," Roxanne said. "How do you know Chester?"
"Never met the man, meself, but Roxy talked about him a lot, back in the day. She didn't mention him on the phone, though." Conor stared past his leftover food as if he didn't see it. "I wonder why?"
The sound of Lady Gaga singing "Brooklyn Nights" came from Conor's pants' pocket. He fished out the phone and pressed a button. "Yeah." He stood and began to pace the small room, listening without saying a word. Roxanne watched his face for any reaction while Niall busied himself finishing up what was left of the fries.
"Okay, thanks." Conor looked at Niall after ending the call. "We gotta talk... outside."
Still chewing the last of the fries, Niall followed Conor out the door. Roxanne eased closer to the door, hoping to overhear some of the conversation. She heard mumbling in heavy Irish brogue but couldn't make out any words. When they fell silent, Roxanne hurried back to her seat.
Niall entered the cabin and signaled to her with a flip of his hand. "Let's go, lassie
"Where?" Roxanne remained planted at the table.
"You'll find out soon enough," he grunted. "Don't make me come over there and carry you."
Roxanne rose and brushed the crumbs from her jeans. "My coat?" She glanced innocently around the cabin.
"Conor's got it in the car." Niall pulled a clean handkerchief from his pocket and started toward her. "Turn around."
"Is this really necessary?" she asked.
"Unless you want me to clock you again, it's necessary." His voice held no emotion; his eyes remained empty and flat.
Roxanne felt the cloth cover her eyes. Niall made sure it was securely tied and spun her around by her shoulders. "Now leave that in place or we tie you up."
She held up both hands in surrender. "I won't touch it, I swear."
Niall took her by the arm and led her out the door. She heard the car motor running as she stumbled along.
"Come on, hurry it up!" Conor called just before Niall shoved her into the backseat and shut the door. "And lock the cabin."
"You sure you don't want me to tie her up?" Niall asked.
"No, just do what I told you," Conor snapped. "We don't have a lot of time."
When silence fell in the car, Roxanne asked, "Who was on the phone? What's going on?"
"Fasten your seatbelt," Conor said as he threw her coat at her. Roxanne struggled to get her arms in the sleeves and then discovered she'd put it on backwards. She slid it off and tried again, twisting and straining to get the coat buttoned. Satisfied all was in order, she felt around for the seatbelt and managed to fasten it after only two or three fumbles.
A few seconds later, Roxanne heard Niall open the passenger door. The car dipped under his weight.
Soon the car bounced along what Roxanne assumed was a dirt road. She struggled to see above or below her blindfold, but Niall had done a good job securing it. What was she doing? So far, aside from the blow to her jaw, they had treated her with a certain amount of civility. No sense pressing her luck.
In a short while they transferred from the bumpy road to smooth asphalt. Conor accelerated, then slowed and it seemed as if the car went in a circle. A ramp to the interstate, Roxanne surmised. As they picked up speed, the rumbling of the tires beneath them almost lulled her to sleep. She fought to stay awake until she felt the car decelerate, come to a stop and make a left turn. "Where are we?" she asked.
"Don't worry about it," Conor told her. "You'll be home soon."
"Home? Then why the blindfold?"
"You're supp
osed to be a smart lass, figure it out," Niall growled.
"Can I take the blindfold off now?" she asked.
"No!" two voices replied in unison.
The car slowed to a crawl. "Ya better do a runner," Niall said to Conor.
"Can't. Too many peelers around." Conor kept driving at a reduced speed.
"What? What's going on?" Roxanne demanded from the back seat. She pulled at the blindfold but Niall had secured it so tight she couldn't get it up past her eyebrows or down past her nose.
"Stop it!" Conor watched her attempts in the rearview mirror. The wheels swung around to the right and the car stopped with a jerk. "Niall, where's the duct tape? Her hands need to be tied."
"Aye, it's about time," Niall said. He was out of the front seat and in the back next to Roxanne in a flash. She slapped at him, but he caught one hand, then the other and joined them together. She tried her best to wriggle them free. "Shite!" he said. "I cain't hold her still. I'm gonna have to hit her."
"No! No!" Roxanne cried and immediately stopped fidgeting. Niall pulled her hands behind her back and rolled the tape around several times.
"Ach, we need to put some tape on her mouth, too," he said. "She's a screamer for sure."
"I prom..." Before Roxanne could finish the sentence, the Irishman slapped the duct tape across her face, from cheek to cheek.
Then he grabbed her elbow and slid her out of the car. Her feet hit solid ground--not dirt, not stones but level concrete--a sidewalk or paved road. She wanted to yell, Don't leave me here!, but the words only whistled in her throat.
She heard the car pull away and stood perfectly still, afraid to take a step. Finally, she inched her right foot forward, keeping her weight on her back foot until she was sure her right foot was steady. She did the same with her left foot, and started walking with slow, lurching steps. Blinded, with her hands behind her back, she had trouble keeping her balance. The last thing she needed was to step in a hole and pitch forward, unable to break her fall.
Roxanne took halting steps, uncertain she was going in the right direction, or if the direction even mattered. She stopped when a gust of wind brought a strong smell of smoke. Shit! Did they leave her in the middle of a forest fire? Before she could panic, she heard voices, faint at first but growing closer. She continued her spasmodic walk and finally heard distinct words.
"Mommy, Mommy, is that a zombie? Eeuuw, hold me Mommy, don't let it get me!"
"Shhh, it's okay, honey. There's no such thing as zombies. I think that woman needs help. Let's go see."
"Nooooo, she's a zombie!"
"Stay here. Don't move from this spot," the mother's voice commanded.
Roxanne stood holding her breath, waiting for the woman to approach. She let out a sigh when she heard a soft voice next to her. "Do you need help?"
She nodded hard several times then felt gentle hands on her face, slowly peeling the tape from her mouth. "Oh, thank you," she whispered. She tried to smile but couldn't feel her lips as she instinctively turned to the woman helping her. "My hands, can you get them free?"
"I...I don't know. There's a lot of tape. I might need a knife. Why don't I try to get the blindfold off first?" The woman spoke while trying to untie the solid knot at the back of Roxanne's head. "It's no use, the knot's too tight. What happened to you?"
"I was, sort of, kidnapped." She cleared her throat.
"Oh, my God. Should I get the police? They're just in the next block."
The smoky smell grew stronger. "Where's the smoke coming from?" Roxanne asked.
"A house is on fire," the woman said. "I hope they get it under control soon. It looks bad. I don't know if they'll be able to save anything."
"A house? Where am I?" Roxanne fought her panic.
"You're in Oilville on Second Avenue," the woman answered in a halting voice.
Great! She thinks I'm a crazy person. Nothing to do about it now. She needed to get free of the blindfold and duct tape before she became the main attraction of the evening.
"Please, if you could get my hands free, I might be able to wiggle the blindfold off." Roxanne hid her desperation and tried to smile again. This time, she thought her mouth seemed to move in the right direction. "Sorry to be such a pain."
"I really think I should get my brother," the woman said. "He's new on the force, but someone needs to know what happened to you."
"Pete Sterling?" Roxanne asked.
"Yes, you know him?"
"We've met." She wanted to quickly change the subject. "I feel like such a fool, I can't see a thing and my hands are going numb."
"Mommy, Mommy, what's wrong with the lady?" a tiny voice cried.
"Jonathon Edward Williams! I told you to stay over there," his mother said, her voice heavy with fear or anger, maybe both. Roxanne couldn't tell the difference without being able to see the woman's expression.
"I'm harmless, I promise," Roxanne said. She needed this woman's assistance but she didn't want to get involved with the police any more than she already was. "Please, if Pete Sterling is your brother, then you must be Kate Williams. I heard you're turning the Victorian behind my place into a B&B." She sucked in a deep breath and coughed. "Oh, it's not your place on fire, is it?"
"No, it's one of the neighbors," the woman said. After a slight pause, she continued, "Do you live around here? I'm afraid I haven't met a lot of townsfolk yet."
"My garage faces your yard. I live on the next street over," Roxanne told her.
Kate Williams did not respond.
"What's wrong?" Roxanne turned her head in a useless gesture that made her feel disjointed. "Is Jonathon all right?"
She remembered seeing the little boy sledding in his yard. Bundled in a blue snowsuit, his cheeks pink from the cold, his laughter filled the air as he flew down the hill. He usually stopped well before the alley, but one time he had burst through the bushes nearly ramming into her garage while Roxanne watched through the kitchen window. He picked himself and his red saucer up, shook off the snow and glanced over his shoulder, pushing his round, tortoise-shell glasses up on his nose.
Heart pounding, Roxanne had rushed out to make sure he was all right. She recalled his shy smile when he told her his name, asking her to please not tell his mother and promising to be extra careful in the future.
After that, he always stopped several feet before the bushes every time he came down the hill. She seldom thought about having children of her own, but if she did, she would want one just like Jonathon.
After a long lull, Kate spoke. "Uh, yeah, Jonathon's fine. It's just that..."
Roxanne wrenched her arms, trying to get free of the tape. "Please, get my hands loose. Can't you unwind the tape?"
"Just a minute." She felt Kate's fingers scraping at the tape edge. After what seemed like a lifetime, Roxanne heard the familiar phhutt sound of the tape unwinding. With each turn of the tape, Roxanne felt more give. Finally, she yanked her hands free, almost losing her balance. She grabbed at the blindfold, trying to stretch it over her forehead. When that didn't work, she pulled it down. Pain shot through her as she squashed the bone in her nose, stretching the fabric as much as possible. Tears sprang to her eyes, but she kept at it until the damned thing was hanging around her neck.
She rubbed her stinging eyes and looked up to see flames shooting from her kitchen window.
- 8 -
It took a few seconds for Roxanne to process what she saw. When the realization hit, she cried out and grabbed onto Kate for support. She had felt next to nothing when her condo in Pittsburgh nearly blew up thanks to a foolhardy attempt by Patti Smith. Now, she felt her whole world swept away.
"I'm so sorry," Kate said. "It looks like a total loss."
"My God, it's gone!" Her voice cracked as she stared at the flames shooting into the sky, along with billows of smoke. The beautiful old house she had grown to love would soon be reduced to a heap of rubble.
Her mind grew numb. Too much...not real...shut down.
"Are y
ou all right? Is there someone I can call?" Kate asked. She fumbled in her pocket for a phone without waiting for an answer. "I'm calling Pete. He can get you some emergency medical attention. And someone needs to know you're not in the house."
"No, please. I don't want any medical types fussing over me. It's a shock, but I swear, I'm okay. Make sure you tell Pete I'm safe. I wouldn't want the firefighters to risk their lives looking for me in that inferno." Roxanne rubbed her eyes, breaking the hypnotizing effect of the orange and blue flames as the enormity of her situation hit.
She had lost her home, but her sense of devastation ran even deeper. Living in Roxy's house had brought her a measure of comfort, providing a tangible link to her birth mother. Now it felt as if she had been cast adrift in foreign water--unable to see the faintest outline of shore.
After ending the call, Kate grabbed Jonathon's hand and looked at her. "We can wait for Pete inside where it's warmer."
Roxanne was beyond caring whether or not the officer would take her in for questioning. Against her better judgement, she wanted to see Callahan, too. He'd always been around when she needed him, but this time, she felt torn. Was he the one Roxy didn't trust? Did that mean she couldn't trust him, either? Did it matter, at this point? She needed to feel his arms around her, trust be damned.
Roxanne stood rooted to the spot. Then she heard Kate's voice again.
"It's all right. Pete will be along as soon as the State Police arrive to help with crowd and traffic control."
The mention of a crowd brought her to her senses. "Sylvia!" she blurted. "I have to let her know I'm okay!" She patted her pockets before remembering she'd left her phone in her messenger bag in the living room. It had turned to ashes now like the rest of the place--like the rest of her life.
"Use my cell," Kate offered.
