The Pineville Heist

by Lee Chambers

  “Hey!” Aaron felt himself being yanked backwards. He let out a surprised yelp and carouselled around to see Carl, who was now resting his arm around Aaron's shoulders.

  Carl began to lead Aaron away, keeping his arm firmly closed around him, squeezing a little too tightly. Aaron had no opportunity to escape again, and he slumped against Carl in defeat.

  “We need to look somewhere else.” Aaron had spent every last ounce of 'fight' on this mad dash, and he was about ready to relinquish the reins of the search to someone else. But, there were so many questions and fears rattling around his head. What about the money?

  Walking back to the wooded path, Aaron stepped over a plank that was covered with a layer of dirt; below it was the hole where Jake hid the other backpack.

  Amanda straightened from her leaning gait to meet Aaron and Carl as they approached the cruisers. Her face was etched with concern, and she smiled for Aaron's benefit. Aaron was never happier to see a familiar face than now in his exhaustion.

  Carl led Aaron to the tail end of the cruiser, and Aaron sat on the bumper. He kneaded the back of his neck and stared off into space, tired and worried.

  Carl seemed satisfied that Aaron wouldn't try another cross-country run through the woods again, so he turned to Amanda.

  She leaned forward and tried to read Carl's expression. Exasperated to find no clues in his poker face and no forthcoming words, she asked, “So?”

  “We didn't find anything,” Carl said, looking away.

  “Nothing? At all?” Amanda looked over at Aaron, who was still posed in a slightly comatose stare. He looked stricken and shocked. Amanda looked back at Carl and asked again, “Nothing?”

  Carl shook his head “no” and glanced over to Tremblay's cruiser. Behind the wheel, the shiny-lensed eyes were watching them as the Sheriff conversed with the radio. Tremblay waved Carl over.

  Amanda stared at Carl and Tremblay as Carl walked away. After a moment, she shrugged and turned to Aaron, looking him directly in the eyes. She placed a hand on his shoulder. Startled, Aaron's unfocused stare began to focus on his teacher. With concern lacing her voice, Amanda asked, “What's going on, Aaron?”

  Aaron wiped at his dirty face in frustration and answered, “I don't know.”

  “Did you even see something out here or is this just another of your…”

  “You don't believe me either? Thanks a lot, Miss Becker.” Aaron looked away from Amanda and scuffed his toe against the dirt.

  Carl was back. “The Sheriff wants to talk to you,” he said, with a serious tone. “He just wants to ask you some more questions about what happened.”

  Sucking in his courage, Aaron knew that he would need to dig into his reserves; Tremblay wasn't done with him yet. Without another word, he headed for Tremblay's cruiser. Amanda and Carl watched him walk away like a man on death row, on his way to the chair.

  Aaron stopped at Tremblay's window. He looked down at the Sheriff, who stared straight ahead, stone-faced.

  “Get in,” Tremblay said, through the open window. He pointed to the back seat.

  Aaron slid into the back, closing the door just as Tremblay started the engine. “I thought you were just going to ask me some questions,” Aaron remarked, trying–and failing–to appear unconcerned.

  “At the station, not here.”

  Aaron's stomach sank, along with his courage. They were going downtown.

  The cruiser pulled away, leaving Carl and Amanda arguing at the edge of the woods.

  thirteen

  The red glowing tinge of a setting sun bounced off the roof of Tremblay's cruiser as it sharked through the streets of Pineville, with sirens in the place of a predatory fin. The cruiser chased the smaller fish, the civilian cars, to their hiding places on the side of the road. As the cruiser swam past, the drivers breathed sighs of relief that the sirens were not meant to capture them. At least not for today.

  Aaron watched this game of justice and civility, cat and mouse, shark and fish. He found it unfair. “The Law” could force people to obey traffic symbols but could do nothing for his two friends.

  About to burst with frustration and concern for his friends, Aaron tapped on the wire cage between Tremblay and himself. Tremblay turned almost imperceptibly. Without saying a word or looking at Aaron, Aaron knew he had the Sheriff's full attention.

  Aaron considered what he was about to say. Did he really want to tell the Sheriff about the money? That he knew about the bank robbery? Would that make him a suspect? He opened his mouth to talk, just as the cruiser prowled into the parking area and stopped at the groaning mouth of the station's main doors. Tremblay flicked off the engine and adjusted the rear-view mirror to stare at Aaron, sizing him up.

  “You do realize making a false report is a serious crime,” Tremblay's words shot with intent to wound.

  “But I didn't! I can prove it all happened just like I said,” Aaron pleaded, still clinging to any remnants of fight left in the depths of his body and soul.

  Suddenly, Tremblay was the one who appeared to be cautious. “Prove it? How?”

  Aaron drew in a sharp intake of breath. “I found the bank money.”

  Tremblay immediately stiffened and turned to lasso Aaron with a steely glare. “The bank money?” His voice was different, strange, urgent, concerned, excited. Not the cardboard cutout Sheriff who talked about drugs in class. This was a motivated individual, with goals, dreams, aspirations, fears. Tremblay was human after all.

  “Yeah,” Aaron said, feeling like he was finally getting someone on his side. Maybe Tremblay, of all people, believed him.

  “If this is some sort of…”

  “I'm telling the truth. It was in a backpack under the canoe.”

  “Then why the hell didn't you say something back there?” Tremblay cursed, about to start the engine again.

  “Because it's not back there anymore.”

  Tremblay froze. “Where is it, Aaron?”

  “I brought it to the school with me.”

  Tremblay cranked the key in the ignition so fast that Aaron thought the entire car might flip over with the sheer breakneck momentum of the hand's turn. Then Tremblay slammed the cruiser into gear, pulled away from the station and zipped out on to Main Street.

  The cruiser sped down Main Street at breakneck speed, with the sirens blaring and Tremblay cursing the entire way back to the school. Arriving, the Sheriff screeched to a halt in front of the school.

  Back at the entrance to the high school, Amanda and Carl were hugging, making up, not expecting to see Tremblay's cruiser lining up beside Carl's. Their night wasn't over yet.

  Aaron flew forward in response to the sheriff's abrupt halt. Carl tucked his hands into his pockets and stepped away from Amanda, as he watched the cruiser grind to a halt.

  Dispatch crackled on the radio: “Sheriff, you still on?”

  Tremblay put the cruiser in park, cursed and grabbed the radio. “Go ahead.”

  “Mister Stevens is back.”

  “My dad?” Aaron balked, as Tremblay brought the mic up to his mouth to speak.

  Aaron leaned forward to the mesh-wall separating him from Tremblay. He clasped the tips of his fingers around the mesh and plastered his face to the metal. With desperation, he pleaded, “Please don't tell him I took his money. He'll kill me if he knew I had something to do with this.”

  “Where the hell are you?” Derek's furious tones were unmistakable, masked unsuccessfully in a cold, steely and distant business voice; Aaron knew them too well. “You said ten minutes, Tremblay. I have other things to do besides sit around waiting for you! I want to know what…”

  With a light clink, Carl tapped on Tremblay's window with the end of a lollipop as Aaron listened to his Dad drone on; hot air, as usual. “Everything all right, Sheriff?” Carl said, peering inside.

  fourteen

  Amanda walked into the school with Aaron, leaving Carl and Tremblay to their discussions in the parking lot. The door clicked shut behind them and a f
lustered-looking Principal Parker jangled his keys as he approached the pair. “Miss Becker, I was just about to lock up. Any luck?”

  The door clicked again behind Carl as he slipped into the school, causing all three to turn in his direction. “Okay, Aaron, the Sheriff just told me. Can you show me?”

  Aaron nodded and set off down the hall with Carl beside him, Amanda behind and Principal Parker trailing at the back of the pack, still appearing puzzled and out of the loop. “What happened out there, Carl? What did you find out?”

  “It's under control, Mister Parker,” Carl said with a flippant tone, a purposeful glare in his eyes.

  “What's under control? You're not telling me anything,” Principal Parker barked, getting his back up.

  “Yeah, Carl,” Amanda chimed in, causing Carl to flick his eyes at her, hoping to silence her sharp tongue.

  The fiery embers in Amanda's eyes told Carl that this wasn't over. “Look, Amanda, you really need to leave this to us and not get any more involved,” he snapped, a final shot.

  “They're my students. Of course I'm going to get involved,” Amanda hissed at him, with no plans of letting Carl get in the last word. She'd put up with his attitude for too long. He was always dismissing her out of hand, especially in front of other people, including her students, and now her boss, Principal Parker. How dare he treat me like a second-class citizen. Not today, not again.

  Carl didn't have time to put Amanda in her place, though. He kept moving, focused on Aaron, as they arrived outside the library. Could this kid really have the evidence, sitting neatly tucked beneath a few rolls of plastic? Apparently not, if Aaron's sickly gasp was anything to go by. His face was pale as a sheet when he turned to his followers. “It's gone!”

  “What?” Carl rasped.

  Aaron pointed to the empty spot, where just a box of rags and some assorted tools remained strewn haphazardly on the ground.

  “I stashed it right here.”

  Carl frowned and pursed his lips, before curling them into a displeased grimace. “Now I suppose you're going to tell me it just vanished into thin air–like the bodies did?”

  Aaron felt the bottom fall out of his stomach, like a weight crashing at his feet.

  Principal Parker gruffly pushed past Amanda. “Bodies? What the devil is-”

  Glancing at the 'Danger' sign beside the doors, Aaron's heart skipped a beat. “Maybe… maybe someone moved it?”

  Aaron's suggestions fell on deaf ears, as Carl grabbed the boy by the arm and yanked him away from the library. “If your nose was Pinocchio's it would be as long as my…”

  “Carl!” Amanda cried, cutting Carl's remark short.

  “I'm done listening to his stories,” Carl spluttered, the indignation getting caught in his throat.

  “But, I really found.”

  “Shut up! You've wasted enough of our time.” Carl's 'good cop' veneer had slipped, revealing a hot-headed and frustrated man who's had enough crap for one day. Amanda shot him a warning glance, but Carl didn't care. He knew a wild goose chase when he saw one. Missing money, missing bodies. There was a real search to do but this kid was just wasting time.

  Principal Parker slowly coughed and interjected in the silent aftermath of Carl's outburst. “What's going on? Aaron?”

  Aaron swallowed and began to answer: “I found the…”

  “I said shut up!” Carl's voice was sharp and fired at Aaron with a violent velocity.

  “But…” Aaron's face was strained and weary. Why wouldn't anybody believe him?

  Carl pulled a cell phone from his pocket and flipped it open. Yet, Principal Parker raised an index finger in polite protest. “That won't work in here.”

  “Why not?”

  “We installed a ‘no cell phone’ system this year. Too many students were spending all their time texting and so forth…”

  Carl didn't wait for Parker to finish his rambling thought and instead walked away, down the hallway. “Wait here. I'll be right back,” he said, directed at Amanda. “I have to call the Sheriff.”

  Principal Parker shook his head, clearly feeling vexed by his sudden lack of authority in his own school. Watching Carl leave, Parker touched Amanda on the arm, snapping her out of a glazed expression. “Look, I have to finish locking up, and then I'm heading home for a bit,” he told her. “Call me with an update, if they tell you anything.” He rolled his eyes, as she nodded back at him.

  As Parker ambled down the corridor, out of view and earshot, Amanda leaned towards Aaron, in a friendly, collegial way. “What did you find, Aaron?”

  Aaron studied her face. “What?”

  “Carl said to show him something.”

  “The money,” he said, clearly and loudly. Triumphantly the words came out of his mouth. Finally somebody wanted to hear what he had to say. Somebody was actually listening. “I found the money the robbers took from the bank.”

  fifteen

  Amanda was quiet for a moment or two. “Oh my God,” she muttered absent-mindedly. “Aaron, this is important–where's the money now?”

  “It was right there…” Aaron pointed to the empty space of floor, just as the library doors burst open with a loud slam–a monstrous hulk clambering toward them, part Darth Vader, part Sponge Bob Squarepants. Amanda screamed, before realizing that what first appeared to be a Space Monster was in fact Chuck in a large bright-yellow biohazard suit, with an air-filtered helmet.

  “Jesus, Chuck!” Amanda exclaimed, holding her heart as if it might explode.

  “Sorry, guys,” Chuck said in a muffled hiss as he pulled the helmet off, in a fine cloud of dust, unmasking a bemused grin.

  Amanda stepped back, covering her mouth with her hand. She sure as hell wasn't paid enough to inhale any toxins. Yet, Aaron leaned forward, peering into the library to see a bunch of Chuck's tools and materials scattered around.

  “Did you find a green bag out here?” Aaron asked, impatiently.

  “A green bag?” Chuck vacantly repeated Aaron's words.

  “A backpack,” Aaron clarified.

  Chuck shook his head slowly. “No, I don't think so… ” He turned back to the doors and walked into the library. “Come on in–it's still okay to breathe in here… for now.”

  Amanda looked uncertain, but followed Aaron inside regardless.

  Outside the school, Carl was leaning against the door to his cruiser, with his cell phone pressed to his ear. “I think we should just take him back to the…”

  Suddenly, the voice on the other end of the phone cut Carl off. Carl cleared his throat and frowned. “But, what for? It's obviously not here. Okay, okay, I'll look around a bit more and then head over.”

  Carl hit the red 'end call' button and slipped the phone back into his pocket. There was a cloud over his head. It seemed like the goose-chase wasn't over yet. And now he had to look for a bag that a kid–a born-liar, just like his old man -says is hidden in the school all the while facing Amanda's scornful, needy glances.

  Kicking the ground, Carl took a deep breath and went to reenter the school building. Gripping the handle, he pulled, but the door wouldn't budge. “What the.?”

  Carl slammed his fist on the glass. Locked out. He turned around just in time to see a car turning out of the parking lot. “Mister Parker?! Amanda! Where are you going?” Carl screamed in vain. The car was already speeding away.

  Back in the library, Amanda walked cautiously amongst the disarray. She craned her neck upwards. Every third or so ceiling tile was missing–black holes staring down on her -with long sheets of thin plastic cascading down from each square. In the middle of the room, a ladder ascended into a larger ceiling opening. Amanda glanced around at the plastic film, covering the book shelves. All the spines and titles were blurry and obscured.

  On the ground, Aaron noticed the plastic rolls that Chuck had moved. A green blur was amongst the plastic film. Aaron immediately recognized the backpack's shape and size. “Found it.”

  Rushing over, Amanda hovered behind Aar
on as he lifted the backpack out of the plastic rolls. Ceremoniously, he unzipped the bag and, right on schedule, he revealed its contents–stuffed to the brim with bundles of cash.

  “Holy shit,” Amanda gasped.

  “Told ya.”

  “Is that it?” Chuck asked, angling to see past Amanda.

  Aaron zipped the backpack closed. The show was over. “Yeah. Thanks for your, uh, help.”

  Chuck nodded. “Then you two need to get along. It's going to get too dangerous in here. Unless you're a pro, like me.” Putting on his helmet with a quirky grin, Chuck climbed back up the ladder into the ceiling cavity.

  Aaron and Amanda exchanged glances, almost reading each other's minds, and headed for the doors–the backpack tightly grasped in Aaron's hand. Feeling vindicated, his cargo suddenly felt lighter.

  Once outside in the corridor, Amanda whispered sharply, “I can't believe you took it.”

  “It's my dad's.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked, puzzled.

  “He just deposited it for some deal about the mill.”

  “Really? Wow! So the rumors are true?” Amanda said, with a sideways look.

  They stopped by Amanda's classroom and she picked up her purse, slinging it over her shoulder as Aaron waited in the corridor. He was shuffling his feet when she returned. “Speaking of rumors–can I ask you something, Miss Becker?”

  “Sure,” she replied, suddenly looking at Aaron closely for the first time in hours. The scratches on his face. A small scab of caked blood around a knick on his chin. He looked literally beaten up by the day's events. Yet his eyes were gleaming with triumph. He found the backpack. He proved the adults wrong. And now here he was, standing in front of her, with a question to ask. “What do you want to know?”

  “Are you dating Carl?”

  Amanda nodded. “For almost a year now, why?”

  “It's just that I heard Steve mention it; that's all.”

  Amanda smiled. “Well, you need to tell Steve to mind his own…” Her voice trailed off. She put her hand on Aaron's arm, squeezing it. “Oh, I'm sorry, Aaron.”