Lewis Security

by Glenna Sinclair

  No. It was more than that, I decided as I got to my feet. A terrible thought hit me, and I looked down at myself in a panic. My clothes were all in order—buttoned, zipped. I could feel the silk of my panties against my skin, too. I was in one piece, thank God. So that wasn’t the issue, unless somebody had tried to attack me. I asked myself if that was the case and closed my eyes, hoping that would jog my memory. It didn’t help. Everything was blank.

  I looked around again. Something didn’t feel right. Something was out of place. What was it? I had worked there for six years and knew the place like the back of my hand. Other than the sound of blood rushing in my ears and my short, fast breathing, there wasn’t a sound in the bank.

  Finally, I realized the problem. The vault was open! My blood ran cold. There must have been a robbery, and I was there when it took place.

  I fumbled with the nearest phone and called the police, then slid down to the floor with my back to the teller’s drawers. My legs were suddenly very weak, and my vision blurred a little. Maybe I had hit my head harder than I thought—but I didn’t know what to think, did I?

  ***

  A lot of concerned faces, a lot of creased foreheads. I sat on the stretcher the EMTs had wheeled in for me, wrapped in a blanket. Why a blanket? I wondered about that as I picked absently at the fibers along the edges. They were frayed a little. Why did EMTs always wrap a blanket around people who’d gone through trauma? Was it to help with potential shock? I guessed so—otherwise, I wasn’t cold. The room was very comfortable. How many people had felt this very blanket wrapped around them? How many of them died? What a morbid thought. I couldn’t seem to get my head straight.

  I looked up at the handsome, concerned face of one of the detectives who’d arrived not long after my phone call. I hadn’t been able to get up to answer the door for them, so they’d broken it down and set off the alarm. Well, the cops would’ve come, anyway. The thought made me giggle a little. George was going to be so pissed at his broken door.

  “What was the question?” I whispered to the detective. I wasn’t paying attention to a word he said. I told myself to focus.

  “I asked if you remembered anything, even the littlest thing. Why were you here? What did you see? Did you hear anything?”

  I stared at the wood-paneled wall and tried my hardest to give him something, anything. “I think I came back to get something from my desk, but don’t quote me on that. It’s all mixed up right now.”

  Another cop came over. “Assistant to the bank manager. Lauren Jones. She checks out.”

  “Did you call George, my boss?” I asked.

  The cop nodded. “Yes, and he’ll meet you at the hospital.”

  “I’m going to the hospital?”

  One of the EMTs overheard me and butted in. “You should’ve been at the hospital ages ago.” She shot the cops a dirty look.

  The detective held up his hands. “Okay, okay. I just wanted to get as much info as I could. Get her checked out. I’ll come over to the hospital later.” Oh, terrific. He was nice to look at, but I didn’t feel like going through the same round of questioning over and over. It wasn’t like I would magically remember anything in that short time.

  The EMT, who was much nicer to me than she was to the detective, helped me lie down on the stretcher. I winced when the back of my head made contact with the pillow. All eyes were on me as they wheeled me out the door—there had to be a dozen cops there, maybe more, running around like chickens with their heads cut off. Or the ants my brother used to keep in an ant farm in his room, milling around in the tunnels they had dug out of the dirt. Why was I thinking about that? Maybe I had a concussion?

  The siren pierced my brain. “Does it need to be so loud?” I asked as we sped through the streets. It was dark outside, night. Right. I had gotten out of work and was already home when I remembered leaving something in my desk or on my desk. Something like that. But what? Not that it mattered much—still, I wanted to remember even the littlest thing about what happened to me. It would help the police, too.

  Nobody answered me, so I closed my eyes and willed myself to block it all out. I wished I could go to sleep, but even I knew it wasn’t good to sleep with a concussion. I didn’t know if I had one, but the way my thoughts seemed to be spinning out of control, it made sense.

  The next thing I knew, I was in mid-air. They were carrying me out of the ambulance and into the hospital. It was all chaos—people everywhere, back and forth, and a doctor ordering tests.

  “Do you remember anything that happened?” he asked as he shone a light in my eyes.

  “Not a thing,” I whispered. I wished my mom was there. Somebody, anybody. I felt so alone.

  “I want a rape kit after she comes back from the CT scan,” he rattled off to a nurse.

  “I don’t think I was attacked. I’m all in one piece.”

  He smiled kindly. “Just in case. We only want to be sure.”

  “Okay, I guess.” I didn’t have much say in the matter. He was right, too. Just because I was all put together didn’t mean something hadn’t happened. Somebody might have tried to hurt me and maybe I scratched them. Who knew? I could have evidence under my nails.

  An hour later, I was in a room in the ER. Well, not a room, per se, though it felt like one. Instead of a bunch of curtained-off sections for each gurney, there were actual walls and sliding doors. A flat-screen TV hung from the corner, up by the ceiling. I told myself to pay attention to the movie that was on and stay awake. That was one thing the doctor was adamant about. I shouldn’t go to sleep.

  “Your rape kit was clean,” he’d said. I’d let out a sigh of relief. “However, it does look like you have a concussion. The nurses will be in to check on you regularly, and the police should be in soon for questioning.”

  I was so glad I wasn’t attacked, it didn’t even matter that they’d just ask the same questions they had before. I let myself get sucked into the movie to give me something to think about other than general hopelessness. Some brainless action flick that was still entertaining, even if it was completely contrived.

  I was so into it, I didn’t hear the glass door slide open. “I like this one,” the detective murmured. “But they probably took out all the really good stuff for TV.”

  I laughed a little. “You scared me. Not a nice thing to do to a girl in the hospital.”

  “Sorry, sorry.” He entered the room. “I hear there was no attack. That’s good news.”

  “You’re telling me,” I said with a shaky laugh.

  “But you do have a concussion. From the size and location of the wound, and the way you describe waking up on your back on the floor, it seems like you might’ve slipped and fallen before hitting your head. So there’s no proof that your injury wasn’t self-inflicted—even if it was accidental.”

  Then, I remembered. “The vault! The vault was open! What happened? Was there anything missing?” I sat up a little. He touched my shoulder lightly, pressing me back down on the bed. His dark eyes were kind.

  “Relax. Don’t get yourself all worked up. There’s nothing you can do.” He stepped away once I settled back down. “The security cameras were disarmed, but we’re fairly certain we can put together a timeline. The robber or robbers were in the middle of the job when you entered the bank.”

  “Oh, no.” Just my luck.

  “I’m afraid so. You don’t remember anything about it? Anything at all?”

  I squeezed my eyes shut, but that only made my head pound even harder. “I wish I could. I remember going back after work to pick up something, but that’s it.”

  “You just so happened to be there at the same time the robbery was taking place.” He squinted a little. “I want to believe you had nothing to do with the robbery.”

  I practically felt my face go as white as the sheets under me. “Detective, you need to believe that. I would never. I couldn’t. I mean…no way!” I sputtered and stammered. Things had certainly taken a turn I never expected.

/>   He gave me a half-hearted smile. “I believe you. Still, it’ll be easier to move forward when your memory comes back.”

  “Don’t you think if I had something to do with it, I would have a story prepared for you?”

  His smile widened. “You have a point. Now get some rest. I understand your boss is here, and I want to speak with him before you do.” I nodded as he turned to leave. He thought I did it! It was unfathomable. Me? Little old me? I wouldn’t say boo to a ghost, much less plan a robbery. I didn’t remember much about that night, but I knew who I was. It wasn’t in my nature to do anything like that. I wouldn’t even be able to pull it off—I was such a klutz, I’d end up screwing up the whole thing before I got started.

  I folded my arms and sank deep into thought. I could almost forget about the pain in my head when I was busy trying to make sense of the night. If it meant proving I had nothing to do with the robbery, I would think as hard as I could for as long as I could until I came up with something to prove my innocence.

  Not to mention the fact that I sort of wanted to remember what happened to me. That would be nice, too.

  Chapter Three – Lauren

  “Oh, my God.” George rushed to my side. “They told me you were hurt, but I didn’t want to believe it.”

  “It’s okay—nobody hurt me but me. And the floor.” I tried to joke around, but the strain on my boss’s face didn’t shift. He wasn’t exactly a young man, but he looked even older all of a sudden. I told myself it was the fluorescent lighting in my hospital room. Nobody looked good under that kind of light.

  “They told me you fell. Do you remember anything?” His eyes searched my face.

  I shook my head. “What about the bank? What happened there? How much did they take?”

  “Don’t worry about that now. The police are taking care of it. What I’m more concerned with is you. You know I’d be lost without you, right?”

  I grinned. He wasn’t kidding. The man could barely tie his shoes on his own. “You don’t have to worry about that. Like I said, I’m the reason I’m lying in this bed. Me and my clumsiness.”

  “I always said you live inside a giant bubble.” He finally sat down with a heavy sigh. “What a night this has been. There are police all over the bank, and they broke down the door.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. I couldn’t get to them in time.”

  He waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t worry about it. Just one more thing to take care of, is all. I’ll have to go back there at some point tonight to start comparing what’s left in the vault with what was there when you closed out earlier.”

  “I hope it’s not too much.” But I had the feeling it was. Why would they bother robbing the place if they weren’t going to clean it out? There was always plenty of cash in there, not to mention the cash boxes locked in the teller drawers. Hundreds of thousands of dollars. Then there were the safe deposit boxes—anybody who knew how to pick a lock could get into them.

  “We’ll see.” He sounded grim and looked even worse.

  “Who could’ve done something like this?” I whispered.

  “I have no idea. However, what I’ve heard so far suggests the people responsible knew their way around the place. There was minimal damage done—they even knew how to disable the video cameras.”

  “An employee?” It felt like my stomach had turned to ice. I couldn’t imagine who would be capable of something like that. We were all like a family, or so I naively thought. The idea that any of us would secretly be plotting a robbery threw all of that into question. Was I wrong to trust those people?

  “The police will call all of our staff in for questioning,” he confirmed. “Or they might come to the bank to do it there. Nobody knows for sure yet. It’s all up in the air.” He held his head in his hands. “In my branch. Why did it have to be in my branch?”

  “I’m sorry, George.” It sounded pretty pitiful, but I couldn’t lie there and say nothing when he looked and sounded so miserable.

  “You couldn’t have done anything.”

  “I could’ve made them leave. I mean, if I walked in on them, I could’ve scared them off instead of hitting my stupid head.” I rolled my eyes.

  “Or you could’ve gotten yourself killed if you tried threatening them.”

  “No way. If it was an employee, no way would they have killed me.”

  “You don’t know that,” he reminded me. “Just because an employee set it up doesn’t mean an employee went through with it. They could’ve hired somebody, a stranger, to actually pull it off. And then where would we be?” He reached over and took my hand. “No amount of money is worth your life. You know that’s what I always remind the tellers, even the security guards. Yes, we have a responsibility to the bank, but we have a responsibility to ourselves, too.” It was times like that when I remembered why I always thought of him as a father figure. If I had a father, that’s exactly the sort of thing I would want him to say to me.

  The door opened, and I looked up to see the detective again. “Don’t you have any other cases to worry about?” I asked with a smile.

  “I just like hanging around hospitals,” he grinned. He exchanged a meaningful look with George, who nodded. The hair stood up on the back of my neck. They were up to something.

  “What am I missing?” I asked, looking back and forth.

  George cleared his throat. “I’ve done a lot of talking with Detective Montez, and he brought it to my attention that you could be in danger.”

  “Danger? Me?” I laughed it off. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “Miss Jones, if I may.” Montez took a step closer to the bed. “If the theory we’re working with is true, you came in during the middle of the robbery. Whether or not you saw the robber or robbers, well, we won’t know until your memory returns. However, there’s a good chance the guilty party saw you.”

  “And if we’re talking about an employee,” George added, “they know who you are. And they might be desperate enough to do something despicable.”

  It dawned on me. “You think they’ll come after me,” I whispered.

  “There’s a good chance,” Montez murmured.

  “I just want to be on the safe side,” George said. “Please. Do this for me.”

  “Do what for you? What am I supposed to do?” It was a nightmare. That was it. It had to be a nightmare. No way was I in a hospital bed, staying overnight for observation after maybe witnessing a bank robbery. No way was Detective Montez looking at me the way he was, like he still didn’t totally believe in my innocence.

  “I would like to place you under protection,” Montez concluded. “I think it would be best all-around if we knew you were safe, looked after.”

  “Please, Lauren. This means a lot to me. I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you—not just because you’re the only person in the bank who knows my schedule,” he added.”

  I snorted. “This is crazy. What are we talking about, exactly? Patrol cars outside my apartment?”

  “Something more than that,” Montez explained. “Something a little more…hands-on.”

  “Just how hands-on?” I asked, suspicious.

  “I work closely with a private security agency. They assist me on many cases where victims or witnesses need protection for some reason—violent ex-spouses, people waiting to testify against a criminal organization. That sort of thing. And I would like to bring them in on this to ensure you remain safe until we find the responsible parties and lock them up.”

  “I don’t believe it. Is this some weird concussion thing? Am I hallucinating?” I laughed and expected them to laugh with me, to tell me it was all a big joke. Instead, they looked at me with expressions I would expect if I had a deadly disease. “You’re not joking,” I muttered.

  “No, we’re not.” George stood. “I’m afraid I have to insist on this. I’ll take care of all costs incurred—you don’t have to worry about a thing.”

  “Why do I feel like I don’t have a choice in this?”
I whispered.

  “That’s easy. Because you don’t, I’m afraid.” Detective Montez went to the door, opened it, and waved someone in. A tall, bald, bulky man stepped into the room.

  “Miss Jones, I’m Paxton Lewis.”

  ***

  By the time I got home the following afternoon, it was like the entire world had flipped upside down. My apartment was a beehive of activity. And all I wanted to do was take a nap, too.

  Paxton was waiting for George and me when we arrived—George had insisted on seeing the set-up he was paying for. To call me apprehensive would’ve been an understatement. I was shaking in my boots. Paxton, or Pax as he’d asked I call him, was a very intimidating guy. Even if I didn’t know he was ex-military, I would’ve guessed it by the way he carried himself.

  I had done a little research on my phone once everybody left me alone in my room the night before. Lewis Security liked to fly under the radar, it seemed, but the little bit of information I found told me they had a sterling reputation. If anything, knowing they were so exclusive and had such a limited online presence gave me even more faith in them. If they were some cheesy agency with friends and family discounts and a Facebook page, I would’ve been skeptical of their professionalism.

  “How are you feeling?” Pax asked when I stepped into my apartment, which suddenly felt nothing like my apartment. I was the sort of person who liked my privacy. I wouldn’t be getting a lot of that in the days to come, it seemed.

  “Better. Still a little woozy, but the doctor said I could expect that. Otherwise, tired.”

  He nodded. “Nobody gets much rest in a hospital, even without a concussion.” He gestured around the living room. “As you can see, we’re almost finished here.”

  I noticed a small camera in the corner of the room, up by the ceiling, facing the front door. “How much of the room does that capture?” I asked.

  “The entire thing. It’s a wide-angle lens. You’d be surprised how much power is packed into those tiny devices.” He led me to the combination dining room and open kitchen, and I noticed another camera there. “There’s another one outside your apartment door, as well as two on your fire escape.”