by E B Corbin
Tom's head bobbed up and down. "This is about the money that Dan tried to steal, isn't it?"
"I'm afraid so," Chester said.
"How did it get in your cabin?" Callahan asked from his perch behind them.
"I wish I knew for sure," Tom said. "It has to do with my cousin, Liam. He came over from Belfast about, oh, I guess, about twenty-five or thirty years ago. He was in trouble in Ireland and the family hoped a change of scenery would lead to a change of lifestyle. Unfortunately, that didn't happen.
"When Liam arrived he had no skills to speak of, and no desire to learn any. My son, Danny, was at an impressionable age and I didn't want him to pick up bad habits from Liam." Tom picked up a pen and twirled it in his fingers before turning to Roxanne. "I'm so sorry about the ordeal you went through at that old hunting cabin."
Roxanne gave him a weak smile. "That's all in the past now. I'll get over it."
"Yes, well, I don't know if I'll ever get over the trouble Liam brought with him." Tom dropped the pen and sighed. "He started out selling insurance for me, but I soon learned he was spending most of his time drinking at Calhoun's Bar and scamming a lot of the poorer folks. He issued policies, took their cash and didn't file anything with the office. I never would have known if old man Harrison hadn't died in an auto accident." Tom shook his head. "When his widow filed a claim, I had no record of the policy that Liam supposedly sold them. But I felt responsible so I paid her from my own pocket... then I fired Liam."
Not so much from the goodness of your heart, but more to avoid a lawsuit. Roxanne knew this man was a friend of Chester's but she detected an underlying slickness, something that could just be her reaction to salesmen in general or something more. She decided to overlook it for now, giving Chester's crony the benefit of a doubt.
"Even so, he was still family," Tom continued. "I let him stay in the cabin but I didn't want him around my son. I kept an eye on him as much as I could. Liam went back and forth to Belfast several times. I wondered where he got the plane fare, but I never asked. Didn't want to know, to tell the truth. Then, about twelve years ago, he came back with a little boy. Said the child was his son. I felt sorry for the tyke, stuck with a good-for-nothing drunk as a father. God only knows what happened to the kid's mother. I made sure Mike registered for school and bought the kid clothes and school supplies because I didn't trust Liam not to drink away the kid's future.
"When Liam died from liver disease, I brought Mike to live with me. I contacted my cousins in Belfast but they didn't want Mike and claimed to know nothing about his mother. The poor kid had nobody but me. He was doing good for a while, until he started hanging around with Sean Cummings." Tom looked at Roxanne. "I heard about the rape charges, and I apologize for Mike's involvement. I never dreamed he'd do something like that."
Callahan cleared his throat. "You and Roxanne can discuss Mike later. Right now, I'm more concerned about finding the rest of the IRA money. Did Liam have any friends in the area?"
Tom stared at the wall above the agent's head. "Just his drinking buddies, but I'm afraid I don't know any of them or even if they're still around." He dropped his gaze to Callahan. "I think maybe Jeanette Wilson might know some of them. She tried to help Liam with Mike for a while. But she's a bit of a drunk herself, so I don't know how much she can tell you about Liam's friends."
"Besides going to Belfast, did Liam travel around these parts at all?" Callahan asked. "Maybe to neighboring towns?"
"If he did, I don't know how he'd have gotten there. He didn't have a car, so unless he had Jeanette drive him, he was pretty much stuck at the cabin. He and Jeanette had a falling out after a time, so she wasn't likely to act as his chauffeur. Towards the end, Liam wasn't much interested in anything but his next drink."
"Where'd he get the money to buy the booze?" Chester asked his friend.
"Certainly not from me." Tom straightened in his chair. "Now that you mention it, I have no idea. Do you think he was mixed up in something illegal?"
"Probably," Callahan said. "I think he was bringing back IRA funds to stash around here. They want it back now and we're trying to find it before they do."
"I'm afraid I can't help with that." Tom sounded genuinely sorry. "If Liam hid it somewhere other than my old cabin, I can't imagine where."
"But you were aware that part of the stash was in your cabin." Roxanne spoke up without thinking. "I heard Dan tell the first guy they sent for it that you were notified about a month in advance."
Tom looked appalled. "Dan said I was notified? I can assure you, young lady, that I was never contacted by the IRA or anyone else about hidden funds. First I heard of it was from Sheriff Walters when he tried to arrest Dan."
"So Dan was lying when he said you knew about it?" Callahan prodded.
"As much as I hate to admit it, yes. My son was lying about my knowledge of it."
"And you have no clue where the rest of the money's been stashed?" Callahan asked Chester's friend.
"No, sorry." Tom shook his head.
"Thanks for your help." Callahan stood and looked at his grandfather. "Unless you have more questions, I think we're done here."
Chester rose to his feet, shaking off aid from his grandson. "Thanks for seeing us, Tom. If you think of anything that might help, please let me know. I'll keep you informed on the inquiry into Seth's murder, too."
"I'd appreciate that," Tom said.
"Good talking with you," Chester told him. "Give your wife my condolences on her brother's death."
Tom accompanied them to his office door. "Oh, and Miss Boudreaux, Roxy insured her business and personal items with my agency. If you need any help when filling out the claim form for the fire, please feel free to ask. I'd be happy to help. Do you know what you're going to do about the house? Rebuild? Sell the lot?"
"I haven't had time to think about it yet," she told him. "I'll let you know about the claim when I've made a decision."
"I'll be happy to push it through without delay." Tom held out his hand to her. "It was nice meeting you, young lady. I've heard a lot of good things about you--all true I suspect."
She took his hand and smiled, while thinking ever the salesman.
Once Chester was ensconced in the rear seat of his town car with the door closed, Roxanne grabbed Callahan's arm. "I'm going to walk back to the B&B." She didn't want to chance giving away her true feelings about Tom. Chester seemed to take his friend at his word; she couldn't.
He hesitated, then said, "I'll drop Chester and be there shortly. Are you sure you'll be all right?"
"What can happen in the middle of the day with people all around?" Roxanne pulled her parka hood over her head. "I'll see you later."
She watched Callahan pull away from the curb surprised that he hadn't objected to her stroll through town. After one deep breath, she started walking.
With other pedestrians around, she felt moderately safe. At least for the moment.
- 22 -
Close to the end of the business section of town, Roxanne came across a storefront with a large eggplant painted along the side of the window. The sign above read "Vicki's Veggie Café". It must be the vegetarian place Snuki had mentioned.
Why not check out the competition? She crossed the street after carefully looking in both directions. No point in becoming another statistic like Ralph Patterson.
The aroma of fresh-brewed coffee permeated the place, along with a warm, spicy scent. Only six tables for four fit in the seating area, but the pale yellow walls with hand-painted fruits and vegetables lent a cheery air to the establishment. It felt more like a European bistro than anything Roxanne expected to find in a small Pennsylvania town.
A mother with a toddler occupied one of the tables and a couple of men in suits sat at another. The remaining tables stood empty and inviting. Roxanne chose a corner seat as far away from the other customers as possible and read the handwritten menu on a chalkboard above the counter. On a whim, she decided to have lunch before she went back t
o the B&B. No need to have Kate cater to her all the time. Three-bean vegetarian chili sounded good so when a freckle-faced young woman with bright copper hair emerged from the back, Roxanne gave her order.
"Be right up," she said as she made a notation on a large Post-it pad. "Can I get you something to drink? My hot apple cider is to die for."
"Sounds good." Roxanne hoped the heated beverage would help defrost her fingers. She still needed to get a pair of gloves. "Are you the owner?"
"I am," the young woman said. "Vicki Samuels. I moved to town last summer and decided to try my hand at the restaurant business. I always loved to cook, and when I gave up being a carnivore I had a hard time finding a decent meal around here."
"You have a very nice place." Roxanne's sweeping gesture included the painted walls.
"Thank you." Vicki glanced around the room. "It got off to a slow start but I hope it picks up when the weather breaks. Do you live around here? I don't recall seeing you before."
"I'm staying at the B&B on Third Street right now." Roxanne hesitated to go into more of an explanation. "Just taking a walk and thought I'd stop in."
"Well, I'm glad you did. Welcome to Oilville. I'll get your cider." With that, Vicki hurried through the doorway behind the counter.
Roxanne tapped her fingers on the tabletop, her gaze averted from the other diners. When the bell at the entrance dinged, she ignored it until a heavy silence enveloped the place like a shroud. Her fingers stilled as she looked up to see Sheriff Walters lumbering into the small café decked out in full uniform with a star pinned to the outside of his tan jacket. She never pegged the obese lawman as a vegetarian.
Where was Harry Potter's invisibility cloak when she needed it?
In her peripheral vision she saw the sheriff nod at the two men, chuck the toddler under his chin and continue in her direction. A terrified wail from the startled boy in the high chair followed in his wake, but Walters ignored it.
The chair opposite Roxanne screeched when the sheriff pulled it out to settle across from her. The toddler continued to wail, the businessmen did their best to carry on their conversation, and Vicki Samuels brought her hot cider.
The café owner nodded at Walters, a forced smile on her face. "Sheriff, can I get you something?"
"Nah, nothing here worth eating." Walters' gruff voice carried through the room. The toddler's wail finally faded into hiccups and the businessmen fell silent.
Vicki froze. She wiped her hands on the cotton towel tucked into her waist before addressing him in a stiff voice. "Sorry you feel that way."
When she turned to Roxanne, she managed a quick smile. "Your chili will be out in a minute."
"Great. The cider smells wonderful," Roxanne told her aiming her words at the sheriff in a tone loud enough for all to hear.
The café owner nodded her thanks and scurried away.
"Your remark was rude and uncalled for," Roxanne said when she could bring herself to look at Walters. The insolence of the man made her forget any lingering fear.
"I'm the sheriff. Don't need to be polite." He glared at her. "You've been avoiding me."
"I've been busy." She slowly sipped the cider, savoring the tangy sweetness and wished she could make him disappear.
"So I've heard." He paused for effect before going on. "Beating up on two innocent boys takes time."
"They're far from innocent." Her thick glass mug smacked on the table.
"Again, it's your word against theirs. Two to one as I see it."
"You're forgetting I have proof of their threats."
"If you mean that tape recording, everyone knows you can fake that." The sheriff leaned back in satisfaction; his chair squeaked in protest. "You'll have a hard time proving it's not spliced together."
"It's digital. Splicing's old style." Roxanne picked up the mug and held it to her lips. "There's a copy on the cloud that's unequivocal evidence."
"Cloud? What the hell are you talkin' about, young lady?"
She shook her head. No use trying to explain to a Luddite. "Nothing. Forget I mentioned it." She had proof as long as she had the original--at least she hoped so. Some so-called expert might claim the recording had been altered but she felt fairly certain another expert could prove the opposite. "I might want to press charges against them. They attacked me, after all."
The sheriff sneered. "Yet Sean Cummings is in the hospital and you're here sipping some kind of dirty water. I doubt any court will take you seriously."
She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and held it. No sense arguing with him. When she opened them again Sheriff Walters' frown had deepened. "Am I boring you, Miss Boudreaux?"
To regain her composure, she cleared her throat. If she let him get to her, she might blurt out information best kept to herself. "Not at all. This conversation has been very enlightening."
He grunted. "I need you to come to the station to give your side of the story before I file charges."
"Against Sean and Mike?"
"No, against you."
"You've got to be kidding me!" She choked on a sip of cider.
"Not in the least. Rick Cummings and my brother, Sam, have been best friends since second grade. Sam isn't happy hearing you intend to file a civil suit against his friend's son."
She shrugged. "Not going to change my mind."
"Then I can't be responsible for what happens. Should you decide to continue with this unwarranted suit, you'll live to regret it."
"Is that a threat?" she asked.
"No, it's a fact." Walters pushed away from the table. "My brother will not stand by while you railroad Sean Cummings."
She had a flashback of the teen in that hideous mask, waving his knife at her. "Railroad him? That punk needs to be taken down a peg or two."
"If you think you're the one to do it, you'd better think again." Sheriff Walters hunched his shoulders to button his jacket over his considerable girth. "I expect you to come in and give us your statement about the altercation. If not, I'll have to send Bud to arrest you."
"Fine, fine. I'll be in as soon as I can," she said with a sigh.
"Make it sooner rather than later," the sheriff commanded. "And I'd like your phone as evidence." He held out a hand.
"Show me your warrant."
The sheriff narrowed his eyes. "I'll have no trouble getting one, if that's the way you want to play it."
"Then you do that."
He glowered at her. "You think you're so smart. We'll see who's got clout around here." He turned on his heel and stomped out, causing the toddler to resume a terrified howl.
When the door shut behind him, Roxanne controlled her temper as best she could and dug through her purse for her phone. Sipping on the excellent cider, she debated calling Callahan about her latest run-in with Walters. Instead, she phoned Conor.
He answered immediately. "Is something wrong, lassie?"
"I just wanted to check in. Have you had any leads about Roxy?"
"Nothing firm yet, but those agents of yours are all over the place, making it hard for us to search and keep a low profile at the same time. These woods are endless."
"So you think Roxy's in the national forest?" she asked.
"It's a good bet. No other reason for the latest group to be lurking around this godforsaken place. If we get to Roxy, you'll be the first to know. In the meantime, we heard from Brian that there are new blokes in town. They sent two teams this time. Both leaders are sharper than Tommy and we have to duck them as well. We followed them yesterday to a park entrance but lost them when your guys showed up. We had to disappear for a time."
"You know them...the new IRA guys?" she asked.
"Yeah, worked with them for a while before everything got all bolloxed up back in the day. From what Brian said, they're planning to contact you again for the money. Apparently time's getting short for them to get their hands on it. Brian still doesn't know what they need it for or why the urgency. He's been asking questions but he's got to be careful--can't
come across as too nosy. And we can't push Brian for more details without giving away our true goal. For some reason, these new guys are convinced you know where the money is. They're quite determined and extremely violent. You don't want to run into them, lassie."
"Well, I have no idea where the money is, so they're out of luck on that. My biggest question is, do they know where I am?"
"The McCarthy brothers would have filled them in before they left. So, I would say yes."
"The McCarthys are gone?" Roxanne put down her mug, not sure she understood why they'd leave before locating the money.
"We heard they're on the way to JFK to catch a plane to Shannon."
"So we don't have to worry about them." She let out a relieved breath.
"You still need to watch your back if nothing else. Pearse and Clancy are no pushovers. They're mean as a group of piranhas and a lot smarter than Tommy. I'm certain the McCarthys turned Roxy over to the new blokes before they left. We're going to be tied up searching for Roxy and ducking your agents. Not a problem for us, we're used to it. But you need to be on your toes."
Roxanne glanced out the window imagining six burly men bearing down on the little café. But the street remained sparsely populated with a few shoppers bundled against the cold and a couple of working stiffs. As she took in the peaceful scene, the tension left her shoulders.
"Oh, I will be," she told Conor. "If I get another ransom note, I'll contact you. I don't know what you can do about it, but at least you'll know where things stand."
"Be sure you do," he said. "We'll be around. The way things are going, it appears you can use our help, too. Are you any closer to finding out who's been keeping these blokes up to date on your movements?"
"Not exactly. I have a few ideas but, at times, they all look suspicious to me." She didn't mention that she'd practically ruled out Callahan, Chester and Pete. Conor might not agree. He didn't need to know everything; after all, he was a suspect, too.
"Watch what you say and do around them," Conor warned. "We'll be close by, but can't guarantee we'll be able to get there in time if you need us." He hung up without waiting for a response as Vicki brought Roxanne's steaming bowl of chili.
