Too Many Secrets by E B Corbin

Author:E B Corbin
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2017-07-20T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

They arrived at the farm to find two men sitting in a nondescript gray Buick. The men left the warmth of their car as soon as Chester pulled in. They greeted him with handshakes and watched with displeasure while Callahan parked the truck and helped Roxanne out.

She studied the newcomers from behind her sunglasses. Probably mid-thirties, dressed in cold-weather gear, they didn’t look like government employees. The pale-eyed one sported light brown hair in a conservative cut. The other had a buzz cut with harder looks than his baby-faced companion. She decided both held an air of competence that left her feeling confident in their abilities.

“Gabe, Ron, meet Roxanne Boudreaux.” Callahan made the introductions briskly.

“What the hell, John?” Gabe snarled. He ran his hand through his buzz-cut hair, looking perplexed. “This is business.”

“Tell him about it,” Callahan nodded in his grandfather’s direction.

“Oh, sorry, sir.” Gabe apologized in haste. “Was it your idea to have Ms. Boudreaux here?”

“It was. I believe she deserves to hear what you’ve found out.”

Gabe looked to his partner for support. Ron stared hard at the frosty field, gazing at the bright blue sky, his breath making streamers of translucent vapor which disappeared in a nano-second. He avoided jumping into the conversation. Gabe sighed accepting the situation with no further words of complaint.

The ordinary white farm house blended into the surrounding alabaster snow. A large red barn stood in stark contrast while several smaller outbuildings dotted the area behind the dwelling. The layout was much bigger than Roxanne expected even though she knew zilch about the size of farms and the trappings necessary to run one.

She followed Callahan onto the wrap-around porch, and they all waited while Chester fiddled with his keys. The door opened with a wave of welcoming heat. Roxanne left her concerns behind as she stepped into a by-gone era. A vase of fresh white calla lilies sat on a circular stand in the center of the entryway. To the right, she glimpsed a living room or drawing room as they once called it. An overstuffed green settee faced two matching chairs with a low, oval console between them. The cherry wood of the table gleamed in the filtered sunlight. The furniture invited friends and family to sit, relax, and enjoy brandy around the warmth of the large fireplace—cold and dark now, though filled with logs and ready to spring to life with the drop of a match.

Chester led them through the dining room on the left, a space dominated by an eight-foot table covered in lace. Ten carved wooden chairs surrounded the immense table. A gigantic hutch held delicate, gold-trimmed plates, bowls, cups, saucers, and large serving platters.

None of the furnishings in the first two rooms looked like they belonged in a farmhouse. They would be more appropriate in a grand city dwelling—about a hundred years ago. However, when ushered into the kitchen, Roxanne saw the true heart of the home. An oak-plank slab with six black ladder-backed chairs stood off to the side, while a large white-enamel, six-burner stove lined the far wall.

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