by E B Corbin
"How old are they?"
"High school seniors, same age as Sandy."
"It might prove difficult, even in a civil suit. These boys are still minors as far as the law is concerned." Roxanne managed to sound interested even though her brain had too many other synapses firing.
"The threats they've been making are certainly not minor," Sylvia said. "At any rate, we can discuss it when you get back."
"These high school kids haven't been threatening you, have they?" Roxanne glanced around the room, anxious to get off the phone but reluctant to brush her friend off.
"Nothing I can't handle," Sylvia said. "Just nonsense and little nuisances. After what happened to Ralph, I say let them come. I have a 9-mm in my purse all the time. Anyone tries anything, they're in trouble."
Roxanne had no idea that her office mate packed a gun in her Saint Laurent leather tote. She had nothing against guns; in fact, she wished she still had the Beretta Tomcat her father had given her. But since she shot Luke Meyers with it, the gun had been confiscated. Her remorse over killing a man stopped her from making a fuss over the firearm.
Now, she wished she had made a big enough stink for someone to return her gun, if only to keep her quiet. But then, it would have burned up in the house fire, so it really didn't make any difference. Roxanne shrugged and pulled her attention back to Sylvia.
"Well, you be careful. If you see anyone or anything out of place, or if anyone causes you any trouble, call the cops. Don't hesitate," Roxanne told her.
"A lot of good that would do," Sylvia scoffed. "I heard Pete's out of town for a few days. That leaves Bud and the sheriff to look after the town. I feel safer with my own protection."
"I don't blame you. I hope to be back by Wednesday but it might take a little longer."
"It's not a problem. But keep in touch," Sylvia said.
Roxanne felt relieved that Sylvia wanted her to return to work after all that happened. Maybe she could stay in Oilville, whatever Roxy's plans. She could find a small apartment somewhere, or just stay at Kate's B&B as a permanent resident. Having Jonathon around to keep Puka entertained during the day would be a plus in favor of Kate's place. Of course, if Roxy were back, Puka would return to her original owner. That thought troubled Roxanne more than losing the house.
A knock sounded at the door. "I've got to go," Roxanne said before cutting the call. "My lunch is here."
Roxanne grabbed her wallet and flung open the door. Instead of a waiter with a tray, Conor stood in the hall. "Jesus!" she blurted. "How did you find me?"
"It wasn't difficult." The Irishman looked over his shoulder. "It's better if I explain inside."
When Roxanne hesitated, he pushed his way into the room, shut and locked the door with the chain lock.
"What now? Are you going to abduct me again?" With four special agents in the room across the hall, she had more courage than the last time she ran into the IRA operative. She stood her ground with her hands on her hips. "Where's Niall? It took both of you to grab me the last time."
"He's waiting in the car." Conor remained calm. "I hoped you'd be more co-operative this time."
"I'm not going anywhere with you." She flopped onto the nearest bed.
"Fine by me." Conor held out both hands. "Just thought I'd let you know that Niall's brother and the two goons with him are following you."
"Why should I believe you?" Roxanne shifted her gaze to the door, hoping Tiffany would show up. "How do they even know where I am?"
"Ah, now, lassie, that's a good question, isn't it?" Conor said with a cryptic smile. "It seems someone is keeping them updated on your whereabouts."
"And how did you find this out?" Roxanne believed him to a certain extent. "And don't give me that 'we have our ways' bullshit."
Conor strode into the room and pulled back the curtain just a hair. "Across the street, in the university parking lot. You see that navy transit van? Tommy's two scumbag mates are sitting there right now."
She noted the same van she'd picked out earlier and wanted to kick herself for not mentioning it to Callahan. "The windows are tinted. What makes you think someone's inside?"
"Tommy has been in touch with his boss in Ireland. He keeps him updated on how things are going over here. We happen to have a mate who keeps us informed about the information Tommy gives his boss. We know they have Roxy, but Tommy, the bugger, hasn't given them any specifics. We may have an idea about that, but they aren't about to give her up without the money. That's where you come in."
"I don't have any idea where it is!" Roxanne slapped her hands against the mattress. "Why would they even think I do?"
Before Conor could answer, there was a knock on the door, followed by a voice calling, "Room service".
"I need to get that." Roxanne stood and moved to the door.
"Fine, just don't do anything funny." Conor pulled a small .22 from his pocket and stepped behind the opening to the door. "I don't want to hafta cause trouble. It would be a shame for that poor waiter to get shot."
As she opened the door, the one across the hall also swung open. The four agents came into the hall, laughing and talking. "Roxanne, I see you ordered room service," Callahan said. "Smart move. Stay in the room and don't answer the door unless you know who it is."
"Uh, yeah." Brilliant advice, she thought, if a little late. She tried to signal with her eyes but Callahan was caught up in a conversation with Gabe while Ron and Tiffany joked with each other.
"We'll be down in the restaurant, if you need us," Callahan called over his shoulder. "You have my number."
"Uh, yeah," Roxanne repeated, raising her eyebrows and twisting her mouth towards the room behind her. Nothing she did seemed to alert any of them to trouble. Callahan waved and jumped onto the elevator as the doors began to close. Some bodyguards, she thought as she stepped aside to let the room service cart in.
The waiter gave her a strange look. "Oh, I didn't know there'd be two of you," he said. "I only brought utensils for one."
"That's fine." Roxanne indicated a space by the desk. "Only one of us will be eating."
When she signed for the bill, she considered trying to write a message on the restaurant tab, but Conor watched her every move. It would have been a lost cause, anyway, she realized as she watched the waiter back out of the room, pocketing her tip without looking at it or the signed tab.
"Don't let me stop you from enjoying your lunch." Conor gestured at the rollaway table. "Niall and I already ate. We can wait for you."
"For God's sake...how can you possibly think I'll be any help to you?"
"You're the only asset we have at the moment. And I think you know more than you're telling me. We're getting short on time, since Tommy only has until the end of the day tomorrow to accomplish his goal."
"Why the time limit?" Roxanne asked.
"We don't know." Conor shrugged. "We think it has something to do with whatever it is they're needing the cash for. The boss in Ireland said Tommy had to turn over the cash by Thursday morning...or else."
"Or else what?"
"Now if'n I knew that, I'd be trying to stop it, wouldn't I? Instead, I'm stuck trying to find the buggers and get Roxy free of them."
"I doubt very much that Roxy has their money or knows where it is. If she did, she'd have turned it over to the proper authorities a long time ago." Roxanne lifted the lid on the covered plate and stared at the fries surrounding the club sandwich with zero appetite.
"I agree with you," Conor said. "The problem is that Roxy has done quite well with the diner and farm and the powers that be suspect she might have used some of the money to establish all that."
"That's absurd! She wouldn't use blood money for herself."
"Well, you know that and I know that...but those buggers in Belfast don't know it. Even after all this time, they still think of Roxy as a loyal former IRA member."
"That makes no sense. Then why kidnap her?" Roxanne asked.
"Because, as I told you before, Tommy
and his friends are not the brightest bulbs in the chandelier. They have some sort of plot in their heads that includes grabbing Roxy in exchange for the money. But I do know that if they thought she was a traitor, she'd be dead by now."
"Shit, how do you know she's not dead?" Roxanne's hope of rescuing her mother dimmed at his words.
"Finish your meal, first. Then come with me and I'll show you."
- 14 -
"Let's go!" Roxanne grabbed her coat and hurried towards the door.
"Don't you want to finish that?" Conor asked as he followed her. He indicated the club sandwich she had left on her plate after two quick bites.
"No time, we need to get out of here before my bodyguards come back." She hoped this wasn't a big mistake.
If he had proof Roxy was still alive, he must know where they were holding her. Once she uncovered the location, she could lead Callahan and the team to the place and maybe they could rescue Roxy. Since Tiffany's constant criticism blocked her at every turn, Conor and Niall seemed to offer a better option.
Niall waited in the parking area next to the motel's back door. He sat up straight and started the motor as soon as he saw them. "So, you decided to join us," he said when Roxanne jumped into the back seat.
"Haven't decided anything, yet," she told him as she pulled up her parka hood to hide her face. She realized she was putting a lot of faith in two men she didn't know--the same two men who'd grabbed her off the street. Seeing Niall brought back memories of her last encounter with them and she began to doubt the wisdom of willingly accompanying them for whatever reason.
Instead of following the lane out of the motel parking lot, Niall gunned the engine and launched the SUV over the curb, flattening the bare branches of a few boxwood shrubs surrounding the parking area. The car landed with a thump in an alley that ran perpendicular to the parking lot. From there, he steered onto a parallel street. He turned left, traveling with the flow of traffic for several blocks until they merged onto something called the Bayfront Parkway. This was not the route Tiffany had taken to their motel, and Roxanne began to wonder where they were headed.
They drove a few minutes along the parkway until she saw the entrance to the East Erie Marina. She breathed a sigh of relief. At least she had a clue about their location, even if she didn't have her phone; it still sat in the charger in her motel room. Niall slowed, checking the rear view mirror several times, then turned onto the access road at the marina.
"What are we doing here?" Roxanne asked.
"We're taking you to the Maria Elena," he said with a smirk. "Where else would we be going?"
"Dammit," she said. "I tried to find it this morning. You know where she's docked?"
"We do," Conor said. "We'll park behind one of the larger yachts, and you can see for yourself."
"Is Roxy there? Why didn't you get her off when you found it?"
"It's not as simple as it might seem." Conor's head swiveled as he checked every slip they passed.
Niall pulled the SUV into a space where the paved dock could support the weight of the car. They were hidden on one side by a huge yacht named Crystal. The other side backed up to a closed building housing a restaurant and marine supply shop. Probably busy during the warmer months, Roxanne guessed, but little chance of anyone wanting to eat or buy supplies with the wind chill coming off the lake in February.
Conor opened his door, signaling for Roxanne to follow. He crouched next to the yacht, peeking around the front a little at a time. "You can see the Maria Elena from here," he told her and slipped back so she could see past the bow. "The third one down."
A medium-sized boat with a white hull and the name "Maria Elena" written in script on the side bobbed at the dock. Not that she knew anything about the size of yachts, but it was smaller than some of its neighbors, and larger than others. No cushions lined the white bulkheads on the lower deck. She assumed these were seating areas in better weather and probably held life preservers when the lids were folded up. She'd seen similar arrangements in motor boats she'd ridden in.
The smaller boats were more her style; these large yachts seemed too big and cumbersome. Dark, tinted windows ran along the sides of the upper deck, with steps leading up to it. The topmost deck was covered in heavy-duty tarp, probably where the captain sat as he drove the boat.
"I don't see anyone," Roxanne whispered over her shoulder.
"Look at the door on the upper deck," Conor said. "Do you see the wires running around it?"
"Sort of." Roxanne squinted into the sun, wishing she'd thought to buy sunglasses at Walmart this morning. She imitated his crouch to take a longer look. "It looks like, I don't know, some kind of coil running all around the doors and windows."
"Exactly. It's been rigged to blow."
"You mean explode? And Roxy is in there?" Her heart- beat kicked into high gear. "We've got to get her out!"
"We don't know for sure that she's there. We haven't seen any signs of life on the boat-- and we don't know when this was rigged to blow, who did it, or why. We can't just march up there and open the door," Conor explained. "Roxy and I were both something of explosive experts back in the day. Well, we were experts at sabotaging them, not so much setting them up. Whoever did this seems to know what they were doing. I need to know what they're using for a trigger before I can do anything. And I haven't been able to find the device to de-activate it. I think it's inside."
"This is crazy," she said. "They can't be planning to blow up a yacht! It would bring a lot of unwanted attention and cause serious damage to the other boats."
"They don't care about the other boats," Conor said. "It's a good way to keep Roxy boxed in, without someone watching her every minute. And they more than likely have a way to de-activate the trigger mechanism if they need to get in. I just don't know how they're doing it. If they're using a cell phone as a trigger, they don't even need to be close."
"Cell phones as a trigger are fairly new. I mean they weren't around when you were active, were they?" she said. "Do you know anything about how they operate?"
"A little, but I'm no expert. Give me an old fashioned clock timer and I can stop it in a matter of minutes. These new electronic things..." he shrugged. "I just don't know enough about them. Maybe I can stop it, or maybe I'd set it off as soon as I touched it. I'm certainly not comfortable making the attempt."
"So, you think she might be in there right now?" Roxanne noticed how Conor lost his Irish brogue when he started discussing serious matters.
Conor shrugged once again. "We can't be sure. But why else have it rigged like that?"
She took a shallow breath as the implications sank in. "And there's nothing you can do to save her? If Roxy's such an expert, why can't she defuse it herself?"
"I doubt she's any more familiar with these newfangled ways of detonation than I am," Conor said. "Never thought I'd need to use my skills again. So I didn't exactly keep up on all the latest developments."
"Well, dammit." Roxanne's legs began to ache from her squat position. She leaned back against a railing that ran along the dock, but the wind whipped through her parka like water through a sieve. She crossed her arms in an attempt to control the shivers that ran through her. "There must be something we can do."
"We're open to suggestions," Conor said. "Niall and I are on our own here. We have one mate we can trust back in Dunmurray, but we don't have the kind of contacts we had years ago."
"So there's just the two of you trying to save Roxy," she said. "Well, that kind of puts a different spin on things."
"But only three of them were sent over for the money," Conor said. "That evens things out, doesn't it?"
"I don't know what to think anymore," Roxanne said. "I'm freezing. Can we go back to the car?"
He held out a hand to help her up from her half-crouched position and led the way back to the SUV. Roxanne slid into the back seat, followed by Conor. With the motor still running, the heater soon provided much-needed warmth. Both took a few moments to shake
some sensation back to their hands and face, then they sat in silence.
"Well?" Niall asked from the front seat. "Anything I should know?"
"Everything still looks the same," Conor said.
"They still have the boat rigged to blow, then. That's not good."
"I think I need to tell Callahan and the others about this," Roxanne said.
Niall glanced at Conor. "That wasn't the plan."
"It's still not." Conor maintained eye contact with Roxanne. "I didn't bring you here to make our presence known to the United States Government."
"Oh, for God's sake, they already know about you," Roxanne said in exasperation. "They've been following you since you stepped off the plane at JFK."
"And we lost them before we got to Roxy's cabin." Conor's smile surprised Roxanne. She'd never seen his dimples before; they added a streak of unexpected boyishness to his demeanor. "Do you think we didn't spot them at the airport? They stick out like red butterflies in a snow storm."
"But they know you're in the country." Roxanne straightened in her seat. "And they think you're connected to the other three looking for the money. They won't let that slide."
"Well, now, there's nothing we can do about those peelers," Niall growled. "I'm not gonna do a runner to lose them. It'd be like giving biscuits to a bear if we gave up now."
"What?" His expressions sometimes left Roxanne at a loss.
"He means it'd be a waste of time," Conor explained. "We did'na come all this way to go home again without doing our best to find Roxy and save her."
"I appreciate your attempt to help." She rubbed her hands together for warmth. "But this is getting way over my head in terms of what I'm capable of doing. I don't make a habit of snatching people from the hands of kidnappers. I don't even know how to begin."
"I told you this was a waste of time." Niall twisted around to look at Conor. "We shoulda just left her to get picked up by Tommy and his boys. She's no help to us."
"Then take me back to the motel," Roxanne said. "I didn't ask to become part of your plan--whatever it is. It probably won't work, anyway. You have no idea how to safely free Roxy, especially if she's on the boat."
