Making my way into the bathroom, I hung my dress on the hook on the back of the door intended for shower robes. Peeling my jeans from my body, slowly so as not to disturb the healing that had already begun on my knee, I stretched my leg and propped my heel up on the edge of the marble vanity. The double sinks gleamed as though no water or soap scum had ever seen their surfaces and the faucets were polished to a high shine. Was this what women did when they didn’t have kids? Clean all day? Because it would take me all day, every day to keep this house in such a high standard of order.
Grabbing a pristine white cloth from a basket of folded towels on the counter, I dampened it with a bit of water from the excessively shiny faucet. I hated to use a white washcloth on the blood and dirt but I couldn't find anything else.
Once my knee was cleaned, I could clearly see the large black and blue mark that covered the knee cap with a couple of deep scratches in the middle.
After digging around in some drawers, I managed to dig up an extra-large bandage that I used to cover the open cuts but there was nothing I could do to disguise the bruise so I just left it alone.
Changing quickly, I grabbed my discarded clothing and shoes and left the master bedroom. Descending the stairs was more painful than I had expected but I made it just in time to see Laura and Becca loading their fancy new weapons gifted to us by Claire. Becca was singing We wish you a Merry Christmas as she worked but Laura was scowling. Every so often she shot Becca a nasty look.
“Hey, Laura.” I stepped close to her, speaking low. “How are you holding up ?”
“Just fine and dandy!” she snapped as she locked the magazine into the handle of her weapon. “Ouch!” she yelled, dropping the gun and grasping her right index finger in her left hand.
“What happened?” I asked, although I was pretty sure I already knew.
“I pinched my damn finger when I was putting the magazine into my gun!” She stuck the injured finger into her mouth. I could see a bright, angry red mark on the side of the finger before it made it between her lips.
“That sure looks painful, Laura. Maybe you should get some ice?”
“I’m fine!”
I held up both hands in surrender and backed away. I had never seen Laura in such a rotten mood. I really hoped her aggravation, anger, and frustration over Mia didn’t throw off her balance this morning. We needed her to focus if we were going to pull this off, not run into the bank all hotheaded and emotional, waving a loaded gun at people.
Claire came up the stairs from the room below the house and handed me my weapon. I ran my finger over the engraved letters spelling LUCY on the handle. The loops and swirls were reminiscent of the fifties and seemed so elegant to be on the side of a gun.
“Are we ready ladies?” Claire asked cheerfully.
“I am!” Becca called from across the room where she had been dancing around excitedly. Both Becca and Claire seemed exceptionally thrilled over what we were about to do. The adrenaline already had them both wired. I wished a little of it would rub off on Laura. She had worked herself into a real nasty funk and I worried about her keeping her head on straight.
Suddenly, I thought about Claire’s shortcake. The last few meetings we had skipped the tasty dessert and I didn’t see any this morning either. I was extremely disappointed. It had been the shortcake that had brought us together in the first place. Perhaps its absence was a sign?
“Remember, we have to be quick and flawless. Get in the doors, spread out and start making demands. I will get the money and then we will make a break for it. Sixty seconds or less. Any questions?” Claire looked at each of us expectantly, one hand on her hip. She was so confident and sure of herself. I actually envied her the confidence that seemed to come so naturally.
Laura continued to scowl and I could tell her mind was somewhere else, probably on Mia. My friend really needed to get her head in the game and quickly. This one was for Mia so she would have everything she needed to fight the war against cancer. I wondered if she needed reminding of that.
“Laura? Don’t forget, this is to help Mia. Once we get through this, the take will set you up for the rest of her treatment. Anything she needs, you will be able to get for her.” I spoke in quiet, relaxing tones, hoping to calm her down some. Laura was as wired as a watch spring and as set to pounce as a hungry lion. I could almost see the tension wrapping around her, thick as bread pudding.
“Who says I am worried?” Laura mumbled. “I just want to get this over with so I can get back to my baby.”
“Well, you are in luck!” Claire interjected pleasantly. “It’s time to leave!” She literally skipped down the hallway from the family room to the back door leading to the garage. Becca followed immediately.
Laura slowly headed in the direction the other women had gone and I brought up the rear, limping all the way.
25
One For The Money
The atmosphere inside Claire’s car was tense on the ride to the bank. Laura stared out the window and I knew she could only think about Mia. I really hoped that she could keep it together long enough to take care of business this morning. What we managed to get our hands on would go a substantial distance in Mia’s treatment plan.
I had no idea at all what Becca was thinking about but she'd stayed extremely quiet, especially for her. The throbbing in my knee cap constantly reminded me of my run in with Joan Crawford. That woman annoyed the crap out of me.
Ten minutes later, Claire pulled up at a curb on the one-way street that ran along the side of the bank. The armored truck stood parked three spots in front of us. One guard remained in the truck, another stood at the back of the vehicle, one hand on the gun at his hip. The third guard left the bank and returned to the truck. He must have made his drop because his hands were empty.
“It looks like things are on schedule,” I said.
The other girls chimed in their agreement. Laura’s face was still tense but her eyes were trained on the truck in front of us, focused.
The guards climbed into the back of the truck and secured the latch as the large, heavy vehicle pulled away from the curb.
“This is it, ladies,” Claire said cheerfully. “Are you all ready?”
“I am, for sure!” Becca responded clapping her hands together.
“Let’s just do it and be done,” Laura grumbled.
“Are you sure about this?” I asked her. “I mean, if you heart isn’t in it, maybe we could try another day?” I didn’t want to, I had taxes to pay and a mortgage to catch up, but I didn’t want to get caught. And I certainly didn’t want anyone getting hurt.
“I’m fine!” she snapped. There was just something in the sound of her voice that frightened me. A knot formed in the pit of my stomach. I tried hard to ignore it.
“Okay, then, let’s go,” Claire said and jumped from the car, throwing on her mask and hitching up her weapon. The rest of us jumped from the car, doing the same. We went through the routine like clockwork. We crossed the grass as one unit and entered the lobby of the bank in the same way, waving our glossy new guns and yelling, “Get down! Everyone on the ground! NOW!”
Laura had a fierce expression that emanated even through the cut outs of her mask. Shoving people out of the way and commanding them to floor, she made her way over to her position waving her gun around indiscriminately.
From around the room, I heard whimpers and cries of fear but I ignored them. We were there with a purpose. Fear and terror reverberated against each other in the large room.
“What the hell is going on?”
“Mommy! What’s happening?”
“She’s got a gun!”
“They all have guns!”
“Someone call the police!”
“No!” I bellowed above the din. “No one is calling the police! Not if you want to make it out of here alive!”
The room fell almost eerily silent. A child whimpered into his mother’s side. She whispered to him in Spanish, trying to calm him.
; Suddenly feeling very powerful, I brandished the weapon Claire had provided me with and began waving it around, ignoring the sharp pain that suddenly slammed into the left side of my brain.
“Oh crap,” I whispered. “Please, God, not now.” The pain subsided slightly but did not go away.
I positioned myself by the door. Just like the week before, the ancient security guard had been asleep in the metal folding chair. He woke up with a start when we entered the building and scrambled to get to his feet. I pointed my gun at him.
“Don’t even think about it old man!” I growled at him. He cowered back into the chair his right hand over his heart, his face pale.
Claire quickly made it to the teller’s counter, shoving her duffel bag across the scratched metal surface to the head teller with one hand and pointing her gun with the other. “Take this bag to the holding safe! Now!” She shoved the barrel of her Glock into the woman’s face. “Move it!”
The frightened woman took the bag and pretty much ran to where Laura stood. Laura shoved her by the shoulder down the hallway toward the vault room and recently filled holding safe.
“Move it, bitch!” I heard Laura command her. “Fill that bag now! Come on! Open it! Open that safe! Everything in the bag!”
There was a quality to Laura’s voice, even above the din of whimpering customers and my own banging heart that I had never heard before. The harsh undertone was a side of my friend that I'd never known and it made me wonder what she might be capable of. Especially under duress. And we were all certainly under duress. I suddenly questioned the choice to carry loaded weapons.
Becca was strutting along the length of the back of the bank waving her gun, occasionally sticking it in someone’s face and telling them to shut up. Her eyes scanned the room rapidly, in search of sudden movements or momentary heroes attempting to call 911 on a cell phone. She must have caught someone because I heard her call out “You there! I wouldn’t think about that for even a second if I were you!”
Claire was still at the counter barking out orders. “You!” She moved in front of the second teller. “Put your hands on the counter! Don’t try anything funny and no one will get hurt!”
She handed a second, slightly smaller canvas bag to the second teller. “Fill the bag! Everything in your drawer. And hers!” Claire pointed her gun at the third woman sitting at the last teller’s station.
Glancing back at Becca, I could see that she had lost all her nervousness. Using her gun to point at various people, she moved quickly from person to person issuing threats to each one.
My left eye had begun to twitch. I tried hard to ignore it. Instead, I turned my attention to the old man in the chair. He didn't look so great—like he might be having a heart attack. His eyes rolled back in his head and beads of sweat ran down his temples. His gasps for air were strangled.
The pain in my head had become so intense that my vision blurred. I told myself to hold on; in another forty-five seconds we would be out of here and on our way home. Then I could stroke out for all it mattered.
“Let’s go! Get that bag full!” Claire was demanding of the last poor girl behind the counter, tapping the barrel of her pistol on the counter.
I heard a man whisper to the person next to him that he was going to call for help. I cast him a hard look through the eye openings of my mask. He instantly dropped his head down into the crook of his arm.
The Hispanic woman clutching the hand of the little boy made the sign of the cross as she prayed quietly to herself in Spanish. “En el nombre del padre, del Hijo y del Espiritu Santo. Amen.” I waved my gun at her gesturing that she should be quiet. She pulled her little boy closer and buried her face in his thick, black curls. For the first time, I felt a slight twinge of guilt over what we were doing.
Laura suddenly appeared in the lobby again, a frightened woman walking in front of her with Laura’s gun jabbing her in the back. “I’ve got it!” Laura called out. To the teller she commanded, “Get down on the ground! Over there!”
The woman at the counter finished filling the smaller bag with shaking hands and pushed it across the surface toward Claire.
“I’ve got my bag too! We’re done!”
Sudden movement caught my attention. From the corner of my eye I could see that the little boy with the Hispanic woman was trying to get up and run away. She pulled herself up to grab him at the exact same time that Laura turned to see what I was doing.
“Get him now!” I yelled at the woman. I will regret that moment for the rest of my life. Had I kept my mouth shut, things might have been very, very different. In an instant, time stood completely still. The flash of the muzzle, the sound of the bullet leaving Laura’s gun were dreamlike. I watched as if from some distant place, powerless to stop her.
“No!” I screamed. “Laura! What have you done?”
The bank was suddenly deathly quiet. The woman, still clutching the hand of her toddler had collapsed to the ground, a pool of deep, red blood slowly forming beneath her. I could hear the rasping sound of a collapsed lung as the woman struggled to take a breath despite the fluid filling her chest cavity.
As if on cue, the old security guard fell from his chair hitting the floor with a dull thump.
“Get out of here! Now!” Claire commanded. She was already running for the door as the words left her mouth. Becca looked dumbfounded as Claire screamed at her to follow her. Laura stood, blank-faced, mouth hanging open, eyes glassy. The customers and bank employees were frozen in place as they all stared at the woman on the floor. The only sound in the bank was the whimpering of the little boy crying out in Spanish to his mother to wake up. “Mama! Depart!”
I wanted to go to him and hold him and tell him a thousand times how sorry I was and reassure him that his momma would be fine. Laura had shot her. She might die. She could already be dead. We had just graduated from felony bank robbers to murderers.
We had to get out of there. I had to get out of there. The police would call for EMT’s and they would get her to the hospital. The woman would be fine. She had to be fine.
The right side of my body started to gather a familiar numbness. I knew if I didn’t move then, I never would. I shook my head as if to shake away the oncoming seizure. Claire and Becca were gone and on their way to the getaway car. I grabbed Laura’s arm and dragged her toward the door.
“Come on, we have got to get out of here!” I hissed in her ear as I dragged her toward the back exit. I could see through the glass Becca and Claire were almost to the car. I wasn’t sure that they would wait for us if we didn’t get moving. I dragged Laura along faster as we busted through the swinging glass door and made a break for it toward the car.
And ran right into the body of Joan Crawford. Suddenly, I heard her tinny voice in my head bragging that she went to the bank every Tuesday morning at ten to check on her safe deposit box.
“Shit!” I cursed as I plowed straight into the annoying woman knocking her to the cold, hard stone steps. I froze as she stared me directly in the eyes. For a brief moment, I saw fear and then for an even briefer second, I was pretty sure that I saw a flicker of recognition. Her eyes traveled down my body stopping briefly at the large bandage on my knee. When she looked back at me I knew she knew it was me.
“Susie Timmons,” she whispered so quietly that I wasn’t even sure if I actually heard her.
Laura pulled at my arm. “Come on! We have to go! They're gonna leave us!”
I couldn’t seem to move. The right side of my body was already nearly immobile but it was more than that. I felt hypnotized—held in one place by Joan’s accusing stare.
She knew what we had done and she was going make sure we paid for it.
I broke eye contact with Joan and allowed Laura to pull me along as the full impact of what had just happened slammed into me.
Joan Crawford knew it was me. If anyone believed her, we were all going to be in a shit load of trouble.
26
After Shocks
�
�Damn it!” I cursed loudly as I jumped in the front seat of the car. Laura threw herself in through the back passenger door and Claire yanked the wheel of the car away from the curb. It was the last thing I remembered before the world went black around me. As I fell into the dark abyss, the accusing eyes of Joan Crawford swirled around me, taunting me.
When I awoke again we were in the garage on Claire’s property. Laura sobbed and Becca was whimpered.
Claire cursed, trying to get someone to answer her question. “What the hell happened back there?” she demanded over and over.
“Ooohhh,” I groaned as I reached up to rub my temples. “My head.”
“Susie!” Claire’s eyes were immediately on my face. “You’re awake?”
“Yeah, I guess so. I feel like I was run down by a Mack truck though.”
“You might as well have been. I’m not certain but I am pretty sure you had another massive seizure in the car. The way your body was thrashing around, you are gonna be sore.”
“Oh crap.” I held my head in both hands. “Did I hit my head again?”
“I don’t really know.” Claire sighed in exasperation. “I was trying to get us the hell out of Dodge before we got caught. That woman you ran into came after us. I think she was trying to get the tag numbers to report us.”
That woman I ran into…Joan Crawford. Ugh.
“Um, Claire, I think we might have a problem.”
“A problem, Susie?” she bellowed. I couldn’t remember ever seeing Claire so emotional. “A problem? Laura shot someone! I am pretty sure we have a really big problem there.”
Laura sobbed even louder then and my heart went out to her. She cried for so long and so hard her breath was coming in short gasps as her body heaved with sobs of devastation.
“Good work, Claire,” I said quietly. “I wasn’t actually referring to what Laura did. There is a more imminent issue actually.”
The Heist Page 15
