Too Many Suspects Read online

  Callahan suggested to Roxanne that a glass of wine might relieve some of her tension, and she couldn’t argue with that.

  The minute she entered the room with her gauze-wrapped arm, Kate and Sam cried out, “What happened?”

  “A little mishap.” Roxanne wanted to avoid giving details with Jonathon at the table.

  “That’s quite some gift-wrapping on your arm.” Sam nodded to Roxanne’s right arm. “Do we want to know about it?”

  Roxanne glanced at Jonathon, happily slurping his hot cocoa. “Probably not right now. Little pitchers, you know.”

  “Got it.” The blonde nodded at her.

  “How about a glass of wine?” Kate asked. “We have both white and red open.”

  “I’ll take red.” Roxanne reasoned the red would be a better alternative, given her recent brush with death. She had no scientific justification for her selection but didn’t really care at this point.

  “Good choice,” Callahan said. “I’ll have the same but I need to talk to Ron first.” He motioned for the other agent to join him in the hall.

  Jonathon stopped guzzling his drink and sat perfectly still as he stared at the table. He could hear better without slurping.

  “So,” Roxanne began in a loud voice to drown out the muted whispers in the hall. “How was school today?”

  Jonathon looked up, uttered, “Good,” and pretended to refocus his attention to his mug.

  “What did you learn about?” She attempted to keep the one-sided conversation in play.

  “Not much,” he said.

  Kate jumped in. “You told me you made a plaster cast of your hand in art class. When can you bring it home?”

  “I’d love to see it,” Sam exclaimed. “I made one when I was in kindergarten, too.”

  “You did?” Jonathon finally fell for the distraction. “I didn’t know they did that so long ago.”

  Sam laughed. “Well, it wasn’t that long ago. I had Barbies and Star Wars figures and ponies when I was little.”

  “Ponies? You mean real, live ones?” With that, his attention diverted completely to Sam.

  Roxanne mentally thanked the woman who had saved the day once again. She almost regretted leaving the inn and not getting to know her better, but she knew it was the right thing to do. How long, she wondered, would Sam Turner be around? She realized she still didn’t even know what had brought the gun-toting woman to town in the first place.

  Kate had been watching her with a slight frown. “Are you going to tell me what’s up?”

  With a glance at Jonathon, Roxanne led Kate to the farthest corner of the kitchen and lowered her voice. “Ron and I are moving to Chester’s place tonight. Even Pete finally agrees that it’s not safe for you and...” Roxanne shifted her eyes to Jonathon.

  Kate sighed, taking in the gauze encircling Roxanne’s upper arm. “I guess there’s nothing I can say to change your mind.”

  Roxanne shook her head. “It’s the safest thing to do. You know it.”

  “I suppose you’re taking Puka, too.”

  At the mention of his name, the golden retriever lifted his head from the doggie bed where he’d been dozing and ambled over for Roxanne to pet him. She gave his back a reassuring scratch. “I’d like to, if you wouldn’t mind.”

  “He’s your dog,” Kate said, lowering her already muted voice. “Pete and I have been discussing getting a puppy for Jonathon.”

  “A puppy! I’d LOVE a puppy!” Jonathon jumped from the chair across the room.

  Roxanne and Kate exchanged amused looks. “So much for a discreet conversation,” Roxanne said.

  “Not only big ears but ultrasonic, as well.” Kate tousled her son’s hair as he hugged her.

  “Thanks, Mom. Can we pick one out tomorrow?”

  “We’ll see. We’ll go to the rescue place after school.”

  Jonathon sobered and wriggled out of his mother’s embrace to speak to Roxanne. His expression parodied that of a serious adult. “You will bring Puka to visit, though. Won’t you?”

  Roxanne smiled. “Of course. We’ll both miss you. And we’re not going far. We’ll be back.”

  They could almost see the wheels turning in the little boy’s mind. His next statement proved that he heard everything, even when seemingly lost in another universe. “Only come when you’re safe from the bad guys.” He made the statement with conviction.

  Callahan returned to the kitchen and addressed Roxanne. “You’ll want to pack some things. Ron’s gathering his stuff now.” He turned to Kate. “Mark the rooms as occupied. We might need them again. Give me the bill and be sure to charge the regular daily rate.”

  “That doesn’t feel right,” Kate demurred.

  “Trust me, it’s not a problem.”

  Roxanne left them to argue over the charges while she packed. She looked through her wardrobe. This was going to be quick; her closet only held the meager items she’d purchased over the past two weeks. In less than five minutes, she stuffed her sparse belongings into the one suitcase she owned.

  For a few seconds she sat on the bed, staring at the door those two thugs had almost pushed through that morning. She shivered. How could she ever sleep here again? As lovely and welcoming as this room had been for her stay, it was no longer a haven.

  With a sigh, she picked up her suitcase and let herself out.

  - 8 -

  When Roxanne hugged Kate goodbye at the B & B, the ache in her bandaged arm seemed to travel to her heart. Two attempts had been made on her life; the next one could be fatal. Maybe she would never see her friend or this place again.

  Ron’s duffle sat by the door. Roxanne guessed the DSS agents traveled light so they could move on short notice. Callahan had gathered Puka’s bed, food bowls, treats and half a bag of food—the dog had more to pack than she did.

  After Jonathon’s tearful parting with the golden retriever and a wave to Sam Turner, they were on the way to Chester’s. Roxanne noted the lights on in Roxy’s cabin and the rental car in the drive. She planned to call her mother later to see what she and Conor discovered with Jeanette on the trail to the missing money.

  At the farmhouse, Puka leapt from the SUV. Without the hindrance of a leash, he bounded through the piles of white powdery snow. He’d be a wet mess by the time they called him in, but Callahan didn’t seem to mind.

  He opened the door to the house with one hand then rolled Roxanne’s suitcase into the hall.

  A chill ran through Roxanne as she entered even though the place was snug and warm. The specter of Chester clutching a shotgun near the entrance loomed before her. With that image stuck in her head she froze in place.

  Then she took a deep breath and forced herself to remember the first time she’d walked into the farmhouse. Chester had ushered them in with a sense of pride, leading them past a vase of peace lilies in the center hall.

  To her surprise, that vase still held an abundance of the beautiful white flowers, probably in honor of the deceased. On her right, the formal living room, or parlor, as Chester called it, looked much the same as it had the first time she saw it.

  She noted a few differences, though—a book sat on the low, oval table between the two overstuffed green chairs. The cherry wood of the table still gleamed in the light. However, no logs in the hearth waited to be lit; ashes now lined the grate. Someone, likely Callahan or a member of his family, had used the fireplace during the past few days.

  Roxanne blinked, imagining the sight that must have greeted Callahan when he found his grandfather’s body. She quickly stepped through the dining room and felt tears welling in her eyes when she entered the kitchen. The big oak-planked table with six surrounding ladder-back chairs was where she and Chester had last sat before Pearse and his gang of thugs arrived.

  Puka’s nails clicked on the hardwood floor as the dog followed her and the two men fro
m room to room, sticking close to her side. She lay a hand on his head to keep herself grounded and bit on her lower lip as she struggled to contain her emotion.

  Callahan glanced at her before he said, “Let’s take the back stairway. You have your choice of rooms since there’s six of them upstairs.”

  With a nod, she silently followed him, not trusting her voice. Ron brought up the rear and Puka scrambled up the stairs behind them.

  “Probably best to pick a room close to mine.” Callahan stopped and pointed to his right. “Either directly across from me or adjacent.”

  Roxanne had no preference. She told him that as soon as she could speak past the obstruction in her throat.

  Callahan made the decision for her. “How about the one across. It’s at the end of the hall and Ron can take the room next to it. That way we’ll have you surrounded.”

  He rolled her suitcase into a pleasant room with windows overlooking the backyard. A red barn was visible in the distance.

  “Unless someone comes in through the window,” she said.

  “That’s what you have Puka for.” Callahan rubbed the dog’s neck. His tail wagged in delight before he wandered through the room, sniffing everything.

  “Yeah, look at him, he’s more interested in all the new smells than in protecting me.” She smiled, to let both the man and the dog know she was teasing. As she watched the golden retriever turn in circles then settle down with a loud half snort, half sigh, his head in his paws, she figured the dog had caught the drift. The man, not so much.

  “There’s your glass half-empty again.” Callahan took her good arm to lead her to the bed. “Try the mattress. My grandmother was real proud of it. The best money could buy at the time.”

  “Ch…Chester told me that…” Her voice trailed off as she swallowed hard.

  He pretended not to hear her unfinished sentence. “I’ll show Ron his room and we’ll be downstairs if you want to join us.”

  “I…I think I’ll unpack a few things and try to get some sleep.” Assuming she could close her eyes in a place with the god-awful memory of Chester surrounding her. She headed for the suitcase he’d left in the doorway.

  He blocked her forward movement by grasping her shoulders. When she tipped her head up, he lowered his lips to hers in a slow, gentle kiss. “Sleep well.”

  Ron shuffled around in the hall, obviously uncomfortable with their show of affection. She watched Callahan lead him to the next room, then softly shut her door before she collapsed on the bed. As she landed on her right side, pain shot through her upper arm reminding her of the gunshot wound.

  “Dammit,” she mumbled before she allowed her tears to flow. How much of her anguish was caused by the physical pain and how much by remembering Chester? She didn’t know or care. By twisting her head into the pillow she managed to muffle the sound of her sobs. Puka rose from the corner where he’d settled and nudged her hand in sympathy.

  Eventually her crying eased and she drifted into oblivion.

  Sunlight slanting through the window teased her eyes open. She’d fallen asleep in her bloody white silk blouse and navy skirt. It didn’t matter since both items were going in the trash as soon as she stripped them off. She speculated about the possibility of taking a shower without getting the gauze on her arm wet and decided against risking it.

  She unwrapped the bandage with care and found the two-inch gash in her upper arm didn’t look nearly as serious as she’d expected. Whatever gunk the paramedics had applied kept the wound moist and supple. A couple of Band-Aids from her suitcase would cover it well enough.

  The hot shower drained yesterday’s depressing memories and brought fresh resolve. She’d go into the office today and help Sylvia deal with the aftermath of the shooting. Roxanne also needed to get away from the farmhouse and its disturbing reminders of Chester.

  With Puka whining at the door, she dressed quickly. Poor pooch! He needed to go out. It had been so long since she’d been totally responsible for him, she’d forgotten their morning ritual. The one they’d adopted when they had a home. She used to let him out as soon as she woke then made coffee while waiting for his bark to signal he was done. No more rituals, but Puka still had to relieve himself.

  He shot out the bedroom door, looking back at her from the top of the stairs. As soon as she took a step in his direction, he scrambled down the steps and into the kitchen.

  By the time she reached the bottom, Callahan had let Puka into the yard. Ron sat at the oak table with a steaming mug.

  “How’s your arm today?” he asked while Callahan poured her coffee.

  “Better. It really was just a scratch.”

  Callahan raised an eyebrow and reached for her arm. When a long-sleeved cashmere sweater prevented him from inspecting the injury, he said, “Are you telling the truth?”

  “I’m no martyr, if it was bad, I’d be whining and complaining.” She stepped closer to the window in the back door to keep an eye on her dog. She didn’t need Puka running off.

  Callahan stood behind her. “He’ll be fine. He spent time here with Gramps when Roxy was out of town. He’ll go as far as the barn and head back.”

  Roxanne nodded but continued to watch the retriever romp in the snow.

  Callahan gently turned her around. In spite of a reassuring smile, his words brooked no argument. “I’d still like to see your arm.”

  “Really? You want to undress me in front of Ron?”

  “Oh, for God’s sake.” Callahan’s lopsided grin took her breath away as he handed her a mug. “Sit down and drink your coffee.”

  Ron waited until she’d pulled out a chair. “I take it you’re going into the office today.”

  “I have several meetings and the glass in the front door needs to be replaced.”

  “Sylvia can take care of that.” Callahan took a seat next to her.

  “She shouldn’t handle everything herself. Besides, she can’t meet with the clients.” Roxanne sipped the rich brew. “This is good coffee, by the way.”

  Her remark didn’t lessen the scowl on Callahan’s face. “We’ll be ready to go in a few minutes if you’re firm on going with us. Pete’s meeting us at your office.”

  “Great. Maybe he found our elusive shooter.” Roxanne drained her mug.

  She insisted Puka accompany her to the office. Not that the well-behaved canine would do any harm to the farmhouse, she just wanted him by her side. Besides, he might get lonely after having Jonathon and Kate around most of the day.

  The dog jumped into the rear seat as soon as the door to the SUV opened.

  She climbed in the front passenger seat while Ron crawled in the rear, pushing Puka’s butt aside to make room. The frown on Callahan’s face did little to encourage conversation so she twisted to speak to Ron. “Wouldn’t it be easier if you had transportation of your own?” As soon as the words flew out of her mouth, she realized how it sounded. “I mean, you could cover more territory that way.”

  Ron smiled. “I’m glad to still be here, period. With manpower at State spread so thin, I could be pulled off this assignment any time. I don’t want to poke the bear and ask for a vehicle.”

  “I guess I understand. Still, how can they expect you to do your job with the two of you relying on one vehicle?”

  “We’re partners.” Callahan kept his eyes on the road as he answered. “Partners ride together. That way someone has your back.”

  Noting his sour mood, Roxanne decided to keep her mouth shut. She faced front and let her mind wander as she admired the untarnished mounds of snow in the State Game Lands.

  A few hundred feet from the driveway to Roxy’s cabin, a dark shadow behind several small pines caught her eye. Her head turned to keep the image in sight as they sped past. “I think I just saw that black SUV back there behind the trees.”

  “I saw it, too.” Callahan kept driving.
>
  “Well, aren’t you going to do something?” she demanded.

  “I’m going to stop at Roxy’s and warn her she has a tail.”

  “That’s it? You’re not going to see who it is? What if it’s Pearse and Seamus?”

  “Where would they get a vehicle like that? I imagine they’re holed up in a cut-rate motel somewhere. At this point, they should be more concerned about escaping the long arm of the law than keeping an eye on Roxy.”

  Roxanne figured he was probably right, so she fell silent once more as they pulled into Roxy’s drive. The generic rental car sat at the side of the cabin behind a snow-covered shrub.

  Callahan threw his arm over the passenger backrest to face Ron. “You stay here with Puka and keep an eye out. I shouldn’t be long.”

  “We shouldn’t be long.” Roxanne had her door part way open. “I’m going with you.” To her surprise, he did not protest.

  Through the half-window on the kitchen door, they saw Roxy and Conor seated at the island, their heads together over some papers. When Roxanne tapped on the window, her mother jumped up while Conor reached below the counter for something—more than likely his gun.

  Roxy met them at the door. “What brings you two out so early?”

  “I was taking Roxanne to the office and we saw that black SUV parked behind some trees on the Game Lands. We thought you should know.”

  She nodded. “I assumed they’d be back. We kept an eye out yesterday when we were driving all over creation with Jeanette and I thought I spotted it a time or two. Whoever it is, they’re good. I’d have never noticed them if I wasn’t watching closely.”

  “You have any idea who it is?” Callahan asked.

  “Not a clue. It sure isn’t Pearse or Seamus since neither of them has the patience or skill to follow me around all day and stay so well hidden.” Roxy paused and stared out the window. “Whoever it is, they’re familiar with the area. We turned down a couple of dead-end lanes on purpose but they knew enough to not follow. We even cut through Old Man Jenkins field to another road but they picked us up again on the other side.”