Brain Storm (A Taylor Morrison Novel Book 1) (24 page)

TWENTY-TWO

THE BANK WAS nearly empty when I went in. The lunch time rush was over and the afternoon crawl towards quitting time was well underway. I was first inside, my job was to take a look around and see if any of my
alarms
went off. If I had any doubts, I was to head back out the doors and we’d abort the job.

I headed over to the display filled with brochures while I tried to access my instincts. This had been so much easier when I just relied on my gut. Back then, I would know immediately when I was in a bad situation. My stomach would clench, I’d feel clammy and my feet would practically itch to turn and run the other way. This was new and I wasn’t picking up anything now, except the fear that I would screw up and someone would get hurt. Or worse.

That everyone was relying on me to keep them safe was pressure enough. The fact that I didn’t have a clue as to what I was doing was the final straw. I didn’t know if my alarms weren’t going off because there wasn’t any danger, or if they were going off like fireworks and I didn’t recognize them. This wasn’t going to work and I wasn’t prepared to risk anyone until I had some sort of a handle on things. I was turning to leave, walk right out of the building, when it hit me, stopping me in my tracks.
 

The stomach clench, the cold clammy feeling, the need to flee. This instinct thing and my gut
were
the same thing. Mac had said they were. My brain knew it, but I didn’t feel it, didn’t believe it, until I turned and saw the man sitting at the desk in one of the personal banker cubicles.
 

He was no more a banker, than I was a customer. I’d found him. I hadn’t lost it after all. I let out a small chortle of laughter in relief, drawing his attention to me. Stupid move. At least I hadn’t danced a little jig too. I nodded at him and turned to pick up a brochure. I had on glasses and a wig. It wasn’t much, but it changed my appearance enough that hopefully he wouldn’t recognize me. I would have preferred a hat and sunglasses, but the banks wouldn’t let you in the doors dressed like that anymore. Rotten crooks had spoiled it for everyone.

I chose another brochure and waited another heartbeat or two before turning around to see what he was doing. He was more interested in watching the hem line on the woman filling out a form at the table in the lobby than in what I was doing. I kept an eye on him though as the door swung open minutes later and Mac came in with Mama D. His eyes shifted over and saw them, and dismissed them, moving swiftly back to the woman in the short skirt. I couldn’t have asked for a better distraction.

I took a seat in the waiting area to open a new account. There were three people ahead of me so I had at least a 30 minute wait. Plenty of time for Mama D and Mac to finish if everything went as planned.

If I hadn’t known it was Mac pushing Mama D in the wheelchair, I would have never guessed. No wonder I had never caught on to him during the past five years. He was good. Real good. Watching him in action made me feel considerably better about my talents as a detective. Mama D looked every inch the rich woman she was portraying, from her manicured fingertips to the veiled hat, to the cashmere lap blanket that was hiding 30 pounds of pennies that they were going to exchange with the gold. When questions were asked later, and they would be, of that I was sure, I didn’t want some bank clerk making note of how much lighter the box had been after they had left.

They called the next person waiting to open an account as Mac wheeled Mama D to the safety deposit counter and she began filling out the forms. I pretended to read about interest bearing accounts as our fake banker watched Miss Short Skirt get in line for a teller.

When I looked back Mac and Mama D were disappearing into the vault. The box belonged to Trinity and she was ‘officially’ dead. They had let Mama D in as she had a box key and was a signer on the account too. It was the way it was supposed to happen, but that didn’t mean it would. Too many weird things had been happening lately to make any assumptions. They had made it past the tricky part. Now came the hard part. Getting back out.

One of the bankers came back from a late lunch or appointment and called in the man waiting in front of me. One more and I was next. I checked the clock on the wall. Only ten minutes had passed. These guys were a lot faster than the people at my bank. If I’d had been in a hurry, it would have taken an hour.

The woman with the short skirt was at the counter now, leaning over to talk to the teller. I glanced over to see how my buddy was enjoying the show just in time to catch the nod he gave to another man who had just entered the bank. Well, great. A second guy. Was he just back from lunch, relieving this guy, or were they onto us?

When guy number two came over and took the seat next to me, it was all I could do to smile and shift over, giving him more room. He barely even noticed me, he was starring so intently at the vault entrance. They’d been made. Probably a flag on the account, which we had been worried about. For whatever reason, though, they were playing this cool. Probably hoping to tail them and find me, or just waiting to grab them when they were outside the bank. I shrank into my seat, trying to become invisible and watched the vault entrance. Mac and Mama D could be coming out at any time, right into a trap.

I had no way to get in touch with Mac and warn him. There was a good chance that transmitters wouldn’t work through the steel walls of the vault and we were afraid they might be scanning the frequencies anyway, so we didn’t even bother with headsets. My brain was scrambling for some way to keep him and Mama D in the vault until I was ready. When a possibility finally did pop up, it was so ludicrous, I almost couldn’t force myself to do it.

Mac said he was an Empath. He said he was more tuned into me than even he had imagined possible. Maybe I could think a warning to him, make him feel that there was a problem. It wasn’t much, but it was the only thing I could think of. Problem was, I had no idea how to do it and there wasn’t time to think it through.
 

“
Don’t come out!
” I shouted in my head, concentrating on reaching out to Mac, hoping he’d somehow manage to feel me willing him to stay put. “
Don’t come out, Don’t come out! Don’t come out!
”

I glanced over at the guard. I didn’t think he was in on it with the others, which probably meant these guys weren’t with the police. I wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing or not, but at this point it didn’t really matter. The guy next to me needed to be gone when Mac and Mama D came out of the vault, and I could think of only one way to make sure of that.
 

When I finally had my plan down in my mind, I reversed my chant, trying to relax and give him a clue that now was the time to get moving. I don’t know if he picked up on it or not, but within seconds, the wheelchair came into sight at the vault door. The man next to me saw them too and I felt him shift his weight forward, ready to stand. I uncrossed my legs and braced myself, praying I was doing the right thing.

Mac walked calmly to the counter where Mama D signed out and thanked the woman. As they started heading toward the bank exit, the man next to me rapidly got to his feet, his eyes fixed on them. As he rose, his jacket rode back and I caught a glimpse of the his shoulder holster. I had assumed he was armed. Knowing he was, made it that much better. I straightened out my leg just as he started moving forward, and swept it backward as I got to my feet, cutting his legs out from under him. He went down hard and fast.
 

“Gun!” I screamed. “He’s got a gun!”

People began screaming and running, giving me enough time and cover to get in two strong kicks to his ribs to keep him on the floor until the guard could get there. I looked over to see the other man lurching up from his desk, hand reaching under his jacket, his attention centered on me, a smile on his face. He knew who I was and he was coming for me.

I focused on the office door and how badly I wanted it closed. Almost instantly, it slammed shut, blocking him from view. It wasn’t going to slow him down for long. I knew he’d be coming through that door within seconds. I waited until I saw it the door handle begin to move and thought about how badly I wanted that door to fly open. It couldn’t have gone any better. It flew back hitting him squarely in the forehead, sending him backward to the floor before bouncing closed again. From the slack jawed look I had caught on his face in the instant before the door slammed shut, I was pretty sure he was out of the picture. At least for a little while. I turned to check that my buddy on the ground was still down and found that the guard was coming fast, gun drawn. I covered my face with my hands and joined the rest of the group, running from the building.

I got out just in time to see Mac and Mama D disappear into the van Jonas was driving. I turned right and headed down the street, slowing my pace to mingle with others on the sidewalk. Police cars went howling by me, screeching to a halt in front of the bank. Close behind them was Trinity, driving the low profile junker Mac and Jonas had shown up with after their morning errands. I was sure I was getting into the right car, but did a double take when I opened the door and spied the driver. It was Trinity, but she’d gone all Mod Squad on me. Big hoop earrings, floppy hat, peasant blouse and vest. She looked like she’d stepped right out of the 70’s.

“Good grief, Trinity. I barely recognized you.”
 

“It’s Candice,” she said, putting her foot down on the gas, as I closed the door and buckled up. “And if you think this is something, wait until you see Jonas.”

I GOT THE shakes around the same time we pulled onto Highway 30.
 

“Adrenaline.” I managed to get out in answer to the look Trinity threw me as we flew down the highway. We were supposed to meet up with Jonas and Mac at a parking lot at a home repair store in Bryant, fifteen miles away, if everything went well. I had checked several times and couldn’t make any tails. I was pretty confident that by the time they had discovered I was in the bank, they hadn’t had time to get the message out. If anyone had a tail on them, it would be Jonas and Mac, but I wasn’t all that worried about them. If a cop and a spy couldn’t shake a tail, something was wrong.

By the time we pulled into the parking lot, my shakes were down to shivers, but I was totally wrung out. Jonas and Mac weren’t there yet. I scanned the area and accessed the situation.

“Mickey D’s or Sonic?” I asked, all the while knowing the answer. Trinity was a Sonic addict, as was I. All I got was a snort and an eye roll as she headed out of the lot.

“Take the exit with the light.” I said, checking my watch. “Schools letting out and we’ll never make that turn without it.”

Sure enough, the cars were backing up down the road. We made it through on the first arrow and managed to get one of the last remaining spots before the kids had them all.

We ordered enough food and drinks for everyone, on the assumption that they would be joining us shortly. We managed to get back to our assigned meeting place without spilling anything, which was no easy feat since the 44 ounce cups didn’t fit in the car’s cup holders. Even with the tray they had given us, it was touch and go for a while.
 

Trinity and I waited in the car, quietly munching our fries and watching the entrance to the lot. She didn’t ask any questions and I didn’t volunteer any information. When I had finally decided it might be time to start worrying, a bright shiny new van pulled in to park next to us. I looked up to see Jonas emerge from the passenger side of the van. In addition to his new earring, Jonas was sporting big baggy jeans, $300 sneakers, and an oversize U of A Razorback football jersey. He’d topped it off with a baseball cap, which he wore backwards, and a pair of the darkest sun glasses I’d ever seen. With the attitude that was rolling off him at the minute, he was one scary dude.
 

“I didn’t know we had a van like that,” I said, rolling down my window, trying not to look intimidated.

“We don’t.” Jonas’ reply was terse. “Mac stole it. Right now, there’s some poor woman coming out of Bed, Bath and Beyond with nowhere to put her sheets and pillowcases.”

He had opened the back door and was helping Mama D climb down out of the back. The combination of his gang look with Mama D’s rich matron look was so bizarre, I had to look away before he caught the smile that had reached my lips. It was obvious he’d had a hard time with the events of the afternoon and I was sure he wouldn’t see the humor in the situation. Reaching in, he lifted out a duffel bag one handed, that I had to assume held the gold coins. Sure. Easy for him.

Mac appeared from around the side, and leaned in, wiping away any prints that remained in the back before tossing the keys inside and slamming the door.
 

“You know someone is going to steal the van again if you do that, right?” Jonas said it more as a statement than a question.

“I sure hope so, or I’m gonna lose my faith in human nature,” Mac returned with a smile, before sliding into the back seat of our car. “Yum - do I smell french fries?”

Jonas threw up his hands in disgust and tucked Mama D into the back seat before getting in himself. It was a tight fit with the five of us, the gold and the food. Fortunately, it turned out we were just going across the highway to the Wal-Mart.

Mac directed us to park at the end of a row, between a van and an RV. Trinity had barely put it in park before Mac was out the door and herding us into the RV.
 

It wasn’t a new RV, but it was clean and roomy and our suitcases and bags from the house were packed inside. We threw the drinks and bags of food onto the table as Jonas opened a cabinet and tossed the bag of gold inside. I looked around, impressed and gave Mac a nod of approval. We had discussed the need for transportation that would be easier on Mama D, not knowing how long we would need to be on the road or when we would be able to make stops. This fit the bill perfectly.