by E B Corbin
Roxanne noted the grimace on her mother's face and wondered how much residual pain from her gunshot wound she was still dealing with. Just like her to be stoic about it. She whirled on Sean. "What do you want?"
"For you to stop making noises about a lawsuit. It's freaking out my dad."
"And why should I do that?"
"Because if you don't, you'll be sorry. My dad's an important man in this town. We can't have you running around bad-mouthing our family."
"What about you? Running around raping classmates is fine?"
"She asked for it, the little whore," Sean scoffed.
"Yeah," Michael chimed in.
Roxanne glared at the two sorry excuses for young men. "You're assholes, both of you. Do you really think that trying to frighten me on the road then busting in here and waving a gun around will get me to change my opinion of you?"
"We don't give a shit what you think of us. We just want you to leave us alone." Sean's head twitched as he scratched his arm with the gun.
Roxanne realized he was on something and studied Michael for tell-tale signs that he, too, was high. The teen's pupils looked enormous in his eyes but Michael had become catatonic, not hyper like Sean.
Roxy met her gaze and said to the boys, "What are you on?"
"We're not talkin' to you, old lady. Just shut up and don't move." Sean's head twitched again.
She pursed her lips and squinted at him. "You're a blight on humanity."
"I said shut up!" Sean spun around to confront Roxy. "Don't need you earjacking us."
"C'mon, man, the old lady's not part of this. Leave her alone." Michael slurred his words. "We came to straighten out this hot mess and you're not making it any better. We should leave."
"What? This bitch has been throwing shade on us. We need to handle it." As Sean swung to face his friend, the gun went off.
Roxanne jerked when the loud crack split the room. Michael's eyes widened in disbelief as he gazed at the blood spurting from his upper thigh. "You shot me!"
"Shit, man, why didn't you just low key it?" Sean wiped the hand holding the gun on his jeans and stared at the growing red stain on Michael's leg.
With both boys preoccupied, Roxy deftly reached behind the couch and came up with her shotgun. At the sound of the pump action, Sean pivoted, his handgun aimed at Roxy.
Roxanne had enough gunplay. She stepped in the middle of the standoff. "Stop it! Both of you."
"Get outta the way, bitch," Sean screamed.
"Roxanne, that was not a smart move." Roxy side-stepped to keep Sean in her sights.
"No more shooting." Roxanne turned to Sean. "Give me the gun."
"You're crazy." He wiped his free hand across his nose.
"I said, give me the gun!" Roxanne locked eyes with him. The twitching moved to his cheek and lips as he smacked sweat from his forehead.
Sean managed a sneer. "Not a chance, bitch."
Michael whimpered, clutching his leg as he slid to the floor; he continued to moan and wail.
Her glance swept over the injured teen before she addressed Sean. "Your buddy's in pain. He needs help. Just give me the gun and we'll call an ambulance."
"Do it!" Michael cried from the floor. "Give her the goddam gun."
Sean watched Roxy out of the corner of his eye. "If I do, that old lady will shoot us both."
Roxanne took a step closer to Sean until she once again blocked the gunslingers. "She's not going to shoot anyone. Just hand it over and she'll lower her weapon."
"I might just shoot him for calling me an old lady." Roxy tensed her finger on the trigger.
"See what I mean," Sean whined. "They're bat-shit crazy--both of them!"
"No one's going to do any more shooting." Roxanne managed to sound calm although her insides churned like someone had stirred them with a giant spoon. She held out her hand, palm facing up. "Give it over and you'll be fine."
"Have her put that shotgun down first." Sean's voice wobbled.
"Not on your life, kid," Roxy said. "Pass the gun to her and I'll put it down."
Sean's left eye twitched, his hand wavered. Roxanne used the opportunity to snatch the gun from his unsuspecting grip.
He tried to make a grab for it, but lost his balance as he transferred his weight to the leg with the bad knee. He grimaced in pain. "Shit!"
Roxy lowered the shotgun, jacked it open and rested it in her bent elbow. "Call an ambulance for that one. I can't stand his whining anymore."
Working together, they propped Sean up and tied him to a straight-backed chair while he groaned. He never stopped berating them. "You'll be sorry. My fam won't put up with you treating me like this."
"Oh, shut up," Roxy muttered. "Do we have something to gag him with? I can't stand his bullshit one more second."
Roxanne ignored both of them as she gave the 911 operator the necessary information. Then she slumped into the wing chair and waited.
It seemed to take forever, but was probably only twenty minutes before the ambulance roared into the driveway. An Oilville police car pulled in behind.
"Great," Roxanne said when Bud stepped out and followed the EMT's into the cabin.
Bud took one look at the boy on the floor and Sean strapped to the chair. "What's going on here?"
"What does it look like?" Roxy answered. "These two punks broke in waving a gun at us."
Bud shook his head. "A likely story. Where's their gun?"
"Right in front of you." Roxanne gestured to the table.
Bud looked at the handgun as if it had sprouted tentacles. He picked it up and turned it over in his hand.
"Great way to preserve fingerprints," Roxy murmured, shaking her head.
For her part, Roxanne hoped he really messed them up. Her fingerprints were all over it, too. The last thing she needed was more suspicion cast on her from Bud and the sheriff.
Bud approached Sean while the paramedics worked on stopping the blood flow from Michael's leg. "Maybe you can tell me what happened here."
"Sure. Untie me first." Sean squirmed in the chair and shot Roxanne a hate-filled glance. "We wasn't doing nothin'. That bitch just shot him."
"You lying sack of shit!" Roxy took a threatening step in his direction.
"Just stay where you are, ma'am," Bud said. "You can tell your side of the story when Sean's done."
Roxy huffed but plopped onto the sofa. She raised her eyebrows at her daughter. "Do you believe this?"
"Sure do," Roxanne replied. "It's not my first rodeo."
The paramedics left with Michael as Bud helped Sean limp to his cruiser. He carefully situated the teen in the front before slamming the door and returning to the house.
"Okay, you two come with me," he ordered.
Amazement spread over Roxy's face. "What on earth for?"
"Statements," Roxanne muttered at the same time as the police officer.
Roxy sighed. "We'll follow you in."
"No, you'll come with me... now."
Roxanne headed to the hall for their coats. She handed Roxy the dark green parka from the closet. "No use arguing. He won't listen."
Her mother snatched the jacket from her daughter while shooting daggers of hatred at Bud. She slid into the backseat of the police van without another word.
At the station, the chief invited Sean into his office while indicating the two women should wait on the plastic chairs in front of Gertrude.
Roxy gave the receptionist a bogus smile. "Gertie, good to see you,"
Gertie sniffed. "Thought you were dead."
"Well, as you can see, I'm very much alive."
"Too bad," the other woman mumbled.
Callahan and Tiffany approached from the rear of the building, where they had just finished questioning Pearse and Seamus. "You must really like this place," Callahan said to Roxanne.
She rolled her eyes.
He shifted to Roxy. "I heard you two ran into some trouble."
"We didn't run into anything. It ran into us." Roxy lif
ted her chin in the direction of the sheriff's office. "That twerp, Sean Cummings, is in there now. Probably lying his stoned head off."
"That so?" He strolled toward the sheriff's office and hammered on the door not giving Gertie a chance to stop him.
"I'm busy!" Sheriff Walters yelled through the door as Callahan turned the knob and walked in. "What the hell..." The door slammed shut before Roxanne heard more of the sheriff's indignation.
As the muffled sound of angry voices filled the room, Tiffany raised her eyebrows and sat next to Roxy. "What happened?"
Roxy lifted her hands and raised her shoulders. "We had a small altercation with two imbeciles."
"Let me guess. Sean Cummings was one of them."
"You got it," Roxy said, keeping a wary eye on Gertie who blatantly eavesdropped as she sat behind her desk.
The door to the sheriff's office banged open. "Gertie! Get Bud in here to remove this intruder! I've had enough of these people meddling in my jurisdiction."
Bud ran up the hall on full alert before Gertie could summon him. "What's up boss?"
Callahan held up his hands in resignation. "Take it easy. I'm leaving."
He signaled Tiffany with a jerk of his head. She followed him as he stepped outside the station.
"You need me to do something?" Bud asked.
"Not yet." The sheriff's crimson face and labored breathing showed no signs of abating as he turned to Bud. "I will in a little while. You can drive Sean back to his truck when I release him."
Roxanne started to rise in protest before Roxy grabbed her arm and pulled her back down to the hard chair. "Not now," Roxy whispered. "Let Walters have his fun while he can."
She was about to object when Callahan walked in the door. She gave him a quizzical look. "What's going on? Where's Tiffany?"
Callahan slanted his eyes in Gertie's direction without moving his head. "I sent her on an errand. She's not needed here right now. Those two Irish bastards are not saying a word. We've been with them all morning. We'll see how they react when they're both charged with at least four federal counts of murder."
"Four?" She thought she heard wrong.
"Those three thugs that blew up in the farmhouse and Chester." Callahan focused on Roxy. "You did say they set the charges, didn't you?"
"Sure did. It was Pearse and Clancy... definitely." Roxy's expression showed no sign of guile, only the gleam in her eye gave anything away. "Tommy and those McCarthy brothers had nothing to do with it."
"That's my understanding."
Roxanne remained quiet, knowing she couldn't lie half as well as her mother just did. Aside from foul language, she wondered how much they had in common.
The sheriff's door opened again and Sean swaggered out with a smirk. "Thanks, Sheriff."
Walters signaled to Bud. "He's all set. Drop him at his truck."
When Roxanne opened her mouth and tried to rise, both Callahan and Roxy held her back. She looked from one to the other. "What are you two doing? Did you hear the sheriff? He's setting that little shithead free!"
"There's nothing we can do about it right now," Roxy said with resignation.
"Patience," Callahan told her.
"I left my patience behind a few days ago," she said as the sheriff approached.
Walters addressed Roxy. "We thought you were dead. You sure had us fooled."
"Doesn't take much," she snorted under her breath as she smiled at the sheriff. "It's good to be alive again. How have you been, Robbie?"
"Not too well. Your friends have been causing a lot of problems."
"Oh, really? I'm sorry to hear that. I'll try to keep them under control." Roxy peered at Walters. "Since you've released Sean, I'm assuming you don't need our statements."
"Not so fast." Walters gestured for Roxy to stay in place. "I need to talk to your niece, er, your daughter, or whatever she is to you."
"What for?" Roxanne demanded. She'd had enough bullying from the law enforcement in this town. No matter the consequences, she wasn't going through it again.
"Just answer the sheriff's questions." Roxy patted her daughter's hand. "We'll wait out here for you."
Traitor. Roxanne let the man escort her to his office. She glanced behind to see Callahan give her a thumbs up before the sheriff closed the door and she revised her opinion. Two traitors.
"Well, young lady, you certainly have brought a pile of trouble with you."
Roxanne took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She gathered every bit of self-control she could drum up and said sweetly, "I'm an innocent victim, Sheriff. I didn't start any of this."
"That's not what Sean says."
"Oh, and did he happen to say why he and Michael stormed Roxy's cabin?"
"Well, now, he claims they just came to talk some sense into you."
"So they broke down the door just to talk to me?"
"Says it was already broken when they got there."
Since that much was true, Roxanne switched to another issue. "What about the gun?"
"Claims he only pulled it when they saw the busted door. Thought they might need to rescue you."
Her grip tightened on the armrests of the wooden chair. "What a crock of shit."
"There's no need to use that kind of language in here," Walters admonished her. "Sean's willing to let bygones be bygones if you'll agree to drop the matter of the alleged rape."
Blood pounded at her temples.
"And if I don't?" she asked.
"Then I'm afraid I'll have to hold you on assault charges."
"I see." Roxanne surveyed the room. The run-around with the sheriff was getting old. When she met Walters cold unflinching stare, she knew she wouldn't get him to listen to her side of the story. She might as well cut her losses. After slapping both hands on her knees, she started to get up. "I guess we're done here then."
"If you agree with Sean's story, we're all set."
"I'll never agree with Sean's story, but I might not press charges against him for breaking into Roxy's if it gets us out of here."
"And you'll drop the accusation of rape against him."
"No way. That stands."
"Then I'm afraid you leave me no choice." Walters stood and wheezed his way around his desk. "Roxanne Boudreaux, you're under arrest for assault on a minor, assault with intent to kill and felonious assault. You have the right to..."
Roxanne closed her eyes and let him drone on. If she correctly remembered what she'd learned in her law school criminal class, assault with intent to kill was a type of felonious assault. He was repeating himself. She wondered if the sheriff had ever personally arrested anyone before. He spouted charges as if fabricating them out of thin air.
The intercom buzzed on Walters' desk. "Sheriff, you'd better come out here. We have a situation."
- 33 -
A wall of sound greeted them when the sheriff opened the door. Roxanne stepped up behind him to find out what caused the commotion and saw a frenzy of activity.
Callahan stood talking with Pete. Since the officer wasn't on duty, Roxanne was surprised to see him. Cummings, Sr. and Judge Walters hovered in front of Gertie's desk, shouting and waving their arms to make a point. Gertie's hands were raised in a futile effort to gain some control over the hubbub.
"What's all this?" Robbie Walters boomed.
Silence fell in the reception area as heads turned to the sheriff. His brother, the judge, took the lead by speaking first.
"We're trying to convince these people," the judge indicated Roxy and Callahan, "they have no right to take over a local matter."
"It's not a local matter," Roxy piped up in disgust. She remained seated with her arms crossed over her chest.
"I think the sheriff should be the judge of that," Cummings, Sr. said. The haughtiness in the mayor's voice left no doubt he expected the sheriff to land in his camp.
Pete cleared his throat and addressed Walters. "Sir, I think there's a good argument for the feds to take this over."
Walters r
aised his eyebrows at his newest hire. "Oh, and what might that be?"
"Well, sir, they're already involved in..."
Before Pete could finish, Tiffany and Ron rushed into the already crowded space.
"Jesus Christ!" the sheriff roared. "Somebody lock that front door. We don't need the whole town in here."
"Watch your blood pressure," Judge Walters warned his brother. The sheriff gave him a weary look.
"It's a public building. Can't lock people out," Callahan said.
"We have some interesting news," Tiffany announced. "We just spoke with Michael O'Malley"
"That boy is a minor. You shouldn't be talking to him." Judge Walters pushed his way closer to her. "Besides, he was shot and is in pain. You should have some respect."
Roxy let out an indignant groan. "Respect? Are you kidding?"
The judge glanced at Roxy as if seeing her for the first time. He did a double-take. "Roxy? Roxy O'Hara?"
"That's me."
"But aren't you... you should be... I thought you were dead." All color drained from the judge's face. It was the first time Roxanne had ever seen the Supreme Court Justice taken aback. She guessed the sheriff hadn't informed his brother of Roxy's return.
At least now the judge would stop haranguing her about the land. He couldn't blame Roxanne if her mother wouldn't sell... could he?
"You obviously thought wrong." Roxy grinned up at him from her seated position. "Unless I'm a ghost."
"What is going on here?" The judge turned to wave at his brother who stood in the doorway to his office. All the disorder and confusion seemed to have rendered him mute.
The sheriff let out a resigned sigh. "It's a long story."
Cummings, Sr. now stepped into the fray. "We're getting off topic. I want to press charges against that young lady over there for assaulting my son."
Tiffany raised her voice. "You might want to rethink that."
Cummings gave her a belligerent look, "Just who the hell are you and why would I do that?"
"Because Michael O'Malley just gave us a statement admitting to breaking into Roxy's house. He also happened to mention that your son shot him."
Blood rushed to the mayor's face, giving it the appearance of a droopy, oversized beet. "That's ridiculous," he blustered. "You can't take the word of a boy awaiting surgery. He was probably out of his mind on anesthetics."
