Steal

by Jeff Elkins

  Moe looked with relief as three ambulances and four police cars sped into the parking lot. Stepping from behind the tree, she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed the number Mr. Thalberg had given her.

  “What’s up?” Stacie asked, noticing Moe’s urgency.

  “I think Hayes and Hersch are going to kill Thalberg,” Moe said.

  “Ms. Watkins?” Thalberg answered.

  “Where are you, sir?” Moe asked.

  “I’m in my car on the way to a meeting,” he replied.

  “Am I on speaker phone?” Moe asked.

  “No,” Thalberg replied.

  “Is Hayes with you?” she asked.

  “Yes,” Thalberg said, masking any emotion he might be experiencing.

  “Are you on your way to meet Melvin Hersch?” Moe asked.

  “Well, I do have a full schedule today. I’m going to see my attorney now, something about estate planning. Then I have a few meetings after that. Why do you ask?” Thalberg replied. Moe respected how he hid her question with his response.

  “Hayes and Thalberg are in on it together. They’re going to force you to sign a new will that gives them both money and then kill you,” Moe said.

  “Hmmm. It may be a little late to change those plans,” Thalberg said, his voice still impressively cool.

  “I’ve got a plan. Can you stall? Stacie and I will meet you there,” Moe asked.

  “Thank you. I understand. I’ll be there in a moment,” Thalberg said. Then, before the line went dead, Moe heard him say, “Mr. Hayes, we need to take a slight detour, I’m afraid I’ve left my wallet at High Tops again.”

  Moe looked at Stacie and said, “Call Detective Mason and tell him what’s going on. Tell him to meet us at Hersch’s office.”

  “On it,” Stacie said, pulling out her cell.

  Moe dialed another number and held the phone to her ear.

  “What’s up?” Ami asked on the other end.

  “I need you to do the impossible and I need it done an hour ago,” Moe said.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Moe and Stacie stood in the long hallway and admired the framed landscapes. Whatever Thalberg had done to stall had worked. Moe and Stacie had made it to Hersch’s office with time to spare.

  In the lobby, they’d stopped to ask the guard at the front desk to make sure the security cameras were turned on. To no one’s surprise, the guard informed them that the entire building was off-line. He explained that two days ago an emergency systems update had been ordered for today and that the entire building was closed because there was no internet or phone service during the update. Outside of a few workaholics, the building was empty. Hersch and Hayes had planned this well. None of the cameras in the building would catch them with Thalberg and there would be a limited number of witnesses in case something went wrong.

  “I think this is my favorite part,” Stacie said.

  “What part?” Moe asked.

  “When we get to deal out some justice,” Stacie said with a smile.

  “Let’s just try to not get shot,” Moe laughed.

  Stacie gave Moe a playful nudge and said, “There’s no one I’d rather be shot with than you.”

  Moe squeezed her friends hand and said, “Agreed.”

  There was a bing from the elevator door around the corner.

  “Game time,” Stacie said.

  It only took a moment for Theo to turn the corner with Hayes walking casually behind him. “Ms. Watkins. What a surprise. Unfortunately, I regret to inform you that I am here under duress,” Theo said.

  “Well, good. You just made my job easier,” Hayes said, showing the gun in his hand to Moe and Stacie.

  “Put the gun away, Hayes. Let’s talk,” Moe said.

  “It’s better that you are here now. Mr. Brains won’t love it, but it saves me having to round you up. Everyone put your hands up and step into the office please,” Hayes said.

  Once they were inside, Hayes pointed his pistol at Stacie and said, “Gun on the floor.”

  Stacie removed the piece from her ankle and laid it on the ground.

  “Everyone’s hands against the wall,” Hayes said.

  Moe, Stacie, and Thalberg all complied. Reaching behind the receptionist’s desk, Hayes retrieved a cylinder with pulsing blue lights. Moe recognized it as the EMP he had used on them when they first came to Thalberg’s house.

  “Told you it was a good idea to leave our phones in the car,” Stacie said.

  “You are wise,” Moe said, as Hayes outlined her with the wand.

  After frisking Moe and Stacie, Hayes said, “Alright, everyone to the back.”

  As Moe, Stacie, and Thalberg walked slowly down the hall toward Hersch’s office, Thalberg said, “I’m sorry I involved you both in this.”

  “We knew the risks when we took the job,” Moe said.

  “Well, if we get out of this, I’ll double your fee. You’ve earned it,” Thalberg replied.

  Hayes laughed.

  As they entered the office, Moe surveyed the room. Everything was the same except that the space had been cleaned. The piles of folders and papers were gone, save one. A single legal sized manila folder sat open on the small table revealing neatly organized legal documents. The heading on the first page read, “Last Will and Testament of Theodore Thalberg.”

  “Well, this is an unexpected crowd,” Melvin Hersch said, as they entered his office. Seeing Hayes’ gun, Hersch added, “And that wasn’t supposed to make an appearance until after the documents were signed.”

  “Couldn’t be helped. He was stalling. I think he got tipped off by these two,” Hayes said, motioning with his gun to Moe and Stacie.

  “It doesn’t matter. Theo, please take a seat,” Hersch said.

  As Theo took a seat, he said, “Mel. You can’t actually expect me to sign any of this?”

  “I’d prefer you did,” Hersch said.

  Theo flipped through the pages and said, “No one is going to believe that I gave you all my money. And what is going to happen when I turn up dead? This will be contested immediately. This is a sloppy plan. I expect better from you.”

  Hersch signed, “Just sign, Theo.”

  Moe looked at Hayes, and then, at Hersch. She needed them talking. She made eye contact with Stacie, who immediately got the message and leaped into action.

  Casually walking to the table, Stacie moved to look over Thalberg’s shoulder. “What does this even do?” she asked.

  Hayes laughed and pointed his gun at Moe. “Take a step back or your friend’s brains are going to be splattered all of the wall.”

  “You can’t shoot me here. The clean-up would be too much,” Moe said.

  Hayes pressed the muzzle to her scalp and said, “Maybe, I’ll just start another fire.”

  “Mr. Thalberg is right,” Stacie said, reading again over his shoulder. “This is a sloppy plan. I can see the headlines now, ‘Billionaire Murdered after Signing a New Will.’ You’re going straight to jail.”

  “No one is going to find his body. Everyone will just think he’s going into retirement and leaving everything to his son,” Hayes said.

  Moe smiled.

  “Shut up, Hayes,” Mel said.

  “What? It’s not like they can do anything about it,” Hayes said.

  Stacie grinned and said, “There’s another problem you haven’t considered, and that is that Thad is a moron who can’t even tie his own shoes, much less take over for his father.”

  “That’s true,” Theo said regretfully.

  “That’s what makes him so much easier to steal from. When he can’t handle it, he’ll ask his trusted uncle Mel to step in and help. That’s when the real money starts flowing,” Hayes said.

  “Enough!” Hersch barked, then composing himself, he added, “Theo, sign it, please.”

  “What he going to do if you don’t?” Stacie asked.

  “Don’t sign anything,” Moe said.

  Hersch sighed. “Sign it. Don’t sign i
t. It doesn’t really matter. I’ve got contingency plans. You signing the documents is what works best for Thad. He’ll be taken care of this way. Don’t sign it, you still disappear and I’ll make sure your estate loses everything. Thad will be on the streets in a few years. See, you’ve paid me so little over the years that I don’t need all your money. Just a fraction of it will make a huge difference.”

  “Exactly,” Hayes said, pressing his gun into Moe’s head again.

  Moe smiled and said, “I think that’s enough. Let’s wrap this up.”

  “Thank you. Sign it and let’s go,” Hersch said.

  “No. That’s not what’s going to happen. Stacie and I didn’t come alone. There are cops in the hallway to arrest both of you,” Moe said.

  “Bullshit,” Hayes said.

  “On what evidence. You have no proof. It’s your word against mine,” Hersch said.

  “Not exactly,” Stacie said.

  Moe smiled and said, “We’ve got your confession on tape. You get all this, Ami?”

  There was a zipping sound as Ami appeared outside the window. Hanging from the roof by a rope, she waved a hand-held recording device and gave Moe a thumbs up.

  “Son of a bitch,” Hayes yelled, pointing his gun at Ami.

  Ami’s eyes filled with fear. She pressed a button on her belt and at alarming speed, she dropped out of sight.

  Hayes turned his gun back on Moe and shouted at Hersch, “What now?”

  Detective Mason’s deep voice came from the hallway, “This is the Baltimore Police. Now you put that gun down and come out with your hands in the air.”

  Hersch sat down in his office chair and sighed. Looking at his partner, he said, “Put it down, Hayes. It’s over.”

  A shadow of hopelessness came over Hayes face. “But—you’ve got to have a plan for this,” he said.

  “It’s over,” Hersch affirmed.

  Hayes placed his gun on the floor and Moe snatched it up.

  “We’re all clear,” Moe yelled over her shoulder. In reply, Detective Mason and three other uniformed officers entered the room.

  Smiling at Stacie, she said with her best Hannibal from the A-Team impersonation, “I love it when a plan comes together.”

  “Yes!” Stacie laughed.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Moe took a sip of her beer and smiled. The Thirsty Horse was hopping. Mike stood behind the bar making drinks, waiters buzzed around the room delivering food, and happy customers talked quietly together.

  “So, you two do this at the end of every case?” Ami asked.

  “Girls have to have their traditions. It’s like Hannibal’s cigar,” Stacie said.

  “From the A-Team?” Ami asked.

  “I should have never humored you. Now, you’re never going to let it go,” Moe said.

  “If we’re the A-Team, I call Face,” Ami said.

  “You can’t call Face. I’m Face,” Stacie said.

  “Look, Moe is clearly Hannibal. And, I’m Face. You can be the crazy one. Or Mr. T. You can be Mr. T!” Ami said, as she took a drink of her scotch.

  “You know what, you don’t get to play. This is my and Moe’s thing,” Stacie said.

  “Leave me out of it,” Moe said, taking a bite of her burger.

  “Say, ‘I pitty the fool.’ Just do it. One time,” Ami goaded.

  “I’m not Mr. T. I’m clearly Face,” Stacie complained as picked a fry off of Moe’s plate, ate it, and then took a sip of her martini.

  “Say, ‘I ain’t getting on no plane, Hannibal,’” Ami teased.

  “I’m not saying that because Face would never say that,” Stacie replied.

  “Ladies,” Francine said from behind them, causing them all to jerk with surprise.

  “That’s Mr. T.,” Stacie said.

  “No. She’s way too classy for Mr. T.,” Ami said.

  “Moe, can I speak with you outside for a minute,” Francine said, ignoring the conversation at the table.

  “That sounds serious,” Ami laughed.

  “Sure,” Moe said. She stood from her chair and followed Francine through the restaurant to the front door. Waiting for her there was her new landlord, Mr. Hudson.

  “Ms. Watkins,” he said in a low grumble.

  “Mr. Hudson. What’s going on?” Moe said, looking from him to Francine.

  “Mark – I mean, Mr. Hudson said he has some news. I didn’t know if you wanted it shared,” Francine said. Turning to Mr. Hudson, she said, “Well. Out with it.”

  “Give us a minute,” Mark said.

  “I’m not a taxi service. You said you needed to talk to her. I brought you to her. So. Talk,” Francine order.

  “I need to talk to her. Not to you. Go wait in the car,” Mr. Hudson said.

  “I will not. Start talking,” Francine shot back.

  “Well, then we’re just going to stand here. I’ve got all night,” Mr. Hudson declared, as he folded his arm.

  Francine looked at Moe for help.

  Moe shrugged in reply.

  “You old fat bastard. I’m not your damn taxi,” Francine said, as she stomped away.

  Mr. Hudson smiled. “Sorry about that,” he said.

  “So what’s going on?” Moe asked.

  “I don’t know. That’s the problem.” Mark pulled from the pocket of his coat a small notebook, opened it, and handed it to Moe. In meticulous handwriting, the page contained three columns: one for the date, one for time started, and one for time ended. There were nine entries all spanning the last four days. As Moe studied the entries, Mr. Hudson explained, “Ever since you moved in, I’ve been having blackouts. Several hours missing during the day that I can’t account for. When I realized they were happening, I started setting up surveillance cameras. But, the cameras wall disappeared as well.”

  Moe’s heart beat faster and a knot formed in her throat. She looked down at her rainbow shoelaces. She focused on the contrast in color using it as an anchor to calm the fear threatening to overtake her. “What do you think is happening?” she asked.

  “I realized I had to get smarter about it. So I set up a camera on the roof across the street.” Mr. Hudson pulled from his coat pocket a stack of photos and passed them to Moe. “Do you know who that is?” he asked.

  Moe’s heart caught in her chest. The photos were of a man in black suit leaving the office. Emotions rushed through Moe. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to cry or scream or run away. “Can I keep these?” she said.

  “Sure,” Mr. Hudson said. “And I should warn you, he seems to be friendly with your dog. I asked the neighbors. They said Bosley never made a peep.”

  A revelation hit Moe like a truck. “That’s why he wasn’t eating. Lance was feeding him. Stupid dog,” she said to herself.

  “Who’s Lance?” Mr. Hudson asked.

  Moe looked at her shoelaces and tried to decide how much she should share. “I appreciate you keeping this between us. Lance is my twin brother,” she said.

  “I take it you aren’t on the best terms,” Mr. Hudson said.

  “He’s dangerous. Keep your distance. Let him come and go as he pleases, and he’ll leave you alone,” Moe said.

  “I don’t like people screwing with my head,” Mr. Hudson said.

  “I know the feeling,” Moe said, as memories of her childhood threatened to flood back into her mind. She looked down again and pushed them away.

  “You gonna be alright?” Mr. Hudson asked.

  “I’ll be fine. I appreciate you keeping this between us,” Moe said.

  “Let me know if you need anything,” Mr. Hudson said with a nod, before he turned and walked back to Francine who was waiting in a car across the street.

  Taking her phone out her phone, Moe sent a group text that read, “Family meeting. Baba’s diner. Two hours.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Moe yanked open the door to Jake’s Diner and charged inside. As she walked to the back of the restaurant, Desire called, “They’re all in the back waiting for you,
hon.”

  “Thanks, Des,” Moe called, as she pushed open the back door.

  Chasing behind her, Stacie said, “Thank you. We appreciate it.”

  The table in the back alley was full. Moe’s brothers were all listening as Baba told a story. Robert, ever the FBI poster boy, dressed in his usual suit and trench coat, sat next to Baba. Joseph, off the clock as a priest, sat on Baba’s other side. Across from Baba sat Calvin, the largest and strongest of Moe’s brothers. Having come straight from work, his face and coveralls had black marks from the welder and forge he wielded all day. In the middle of them all was Baba, smoking his cigar and going on about something that may or may not be true. The sight of the men gave Moe pause. She hadn’t seen them together like this in years. She wondered if she should ruin it with the news.

  “There she is,” Robert said.

  “What’s with all the urgency, Sis?” Joe asked.

  Stepping out the back door, Stacie came to Moe’s side. “Gentlemen,” she said. Then, realizing she had never met Calvin, she extended her hand and introduced herself. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Stacie Howe. Moe’s partner.”

  Calvin kept his arms crossed and gave her a nod.

  “That’s my twin, Calvin. He’s the least friendly brother,” Joe said.

  Robert laughed in reply. “That’s the understatement of the decade,” he said.

  “So, Baby Girl. Why’d you pull everyone out of bed?” Baba said.

  Moe took a deep breath. There was no avoiding it. She dropped the pictures on the table and announced, “Lance is back.”

  The men stared at the pictures in fear. None of them dared touch them. It was Robert who broke the silence. “How long?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure. My landlord has been losing time for a little under a week. Lance has been breaking into my new office. But, for about a week-and-a-half my dog has been acting weird. I think I’ve been seeing Lance at night. Maybe two weeks? I don’t know.” Moe said.