"No. There were a couple of explosions that shook the floor, then one of the robbers called out to the others before they ran out the back. It was all over pretty quickly."
"Sit tight for a few minutes, sis'. Jord, grab a couple of officers and we'll take a look behind that door," said Garrett.
"I think a code and a pass are required. I saw the bank manager use them," I added.
"Jord?"
"I'll find someone to open it," said Jord and they both took off.
I looked around, wondering what to do. They told me to sit tight so I decided to take them literally, dropping to the floor and resting my back against the wall, with my legs crossed. It was a convenient place to watch what was going on now that the room was flooded with police officers. None of the customers were allowed to leave without first being interviewed by the uniforms with their signature notepads and pens out. The EMTs checked over an elderly couple but otherwise, everyone looked fine.
The tellers finally emerged from behind their security glass and huddled together not far from me, a pair of officers with them. I figured they couldn’t really see anything but I couldn't resist straining to listen to their conversation.
"...don't know why the police took so long," said one man in the bank's uniform of black slacks, blue shirt and tie. I couldn't quite read the nametag on his shirt. "I pressed the buzzer as soon as I saw the robbers walk in."
"Police officers should have arrived in a few minutes," said his colleague, a tall, thin woman. "I pressed mine too, before they even warned us not to!"
"They didn't even come up to us," said a third. "I hid on the floor under my desk, waiting for someone to start shouting for the money in the tills!"
"Maybe they got spooked and ran off after the shooting. I heard one of the police officers say he was an undercover cop. He's so brave!" cooed the tall woman.
I rolled my eyes. I didn't think so. I regarded Officer Andersen as a lesson in stupidity since he was out-manned and outgunned, although I wouldn’t voice that to a room full of his colleagues. Instead, I continued waiting, obsessively checking my watch as the minutes rolled past. Garrett and Jord and a couple more officers went through the security door into the bank and didn’t return. What could possibly be keeping them so long? Did they find the bank manager? I hadn't seen any EMTs rush through so he couldn't have been found injured. Did that mean he was dead? I hoped not. That would be a terrible outcome from what so far looked like a very crappy bank job.
By the time my brothers returned, twenty minutes had passed and the atmosphere in the bank moved from adrenaline-fueled chatter to softer, calmer conversation. Garrett walked over to me, brushing dust from his shoulders and arms.
"What happened to you?" I asked, looking over his shoulder to see who followed him. Jord had a man in a suit by the arm whom he was talking to gently. The man had a bandage taped to his head and cradled one arm awkwardly. He looked vaguely familiar, possibly one of the customers, until I glanced at his shoes. "Is that the bank manager? Is he okay?" I asked.
"It is. We found him on the floor, conked on the head. He's going to have a nasty headache for a day or two but he's fine otherwise."
"That doesn't explain this," I said, reaching out to run my finger over Garrett's sleeve. I retracted it when it became smeared with dust. "What happened?"
"They needed the bank manager to access the employee zones. They took him downstairs and put a gun to his head until he opened the vault."
"That poor man!"
"He saw one of them pulling dynamite from a pack and figured they were going to get inside anyway, so he opened the gates. They hit him soon after that. He doesn't remember anything else until now."
"So they were after the contents of the vaults? Is that where they keep surplus cash or are they gold ingots?"
"You've been watching too many movies. The vault contains the customers' security boxes."
"They must have valued that stuff far more than cash. I guess they didn't want to go to the hassle of laundering the money," I said, still confused.
"You can't repeat any of this," Garrett warned me. "I'm only telling you because I expect you'll start poking around anyway."
"I have no idea why you would think that." I held back the smile that threatened to creep onto my lips. I knew exactly why he thought that.
"Glad to see your good spirits have returned. Uh oh..." Garrett trailed off. I glanced over my shoulder, wondering what rattled him only to see Solomon storming towards me.
"I just heard," he said, coming to a stop in front of me. His worried eyes assessed me quickly. "You're covered in blood but I don't see any wounds."
"It's not my blood," I said, reaching for his hand. "I'm okay. So's the cash." I held up the bag.
Solomon took one look at my dried blood-encrusted fingers. "Screw the cash."
I frowned. "You don't want it? Can I keep it?" I had my eye on a great outfit at a cute, little boutique. It would barely make a dent in the money. Also, I decided as I looked down, I really needed a new pair of pants and sneakers. Maybe a jacket too. And if I were shopping for all those things, a new purse couldn't go amiss.
"Nice try," said Solomon. He put his arm around my shoulders, drawing me close despite my protestations about the mess, and I rested my head against him. That was nice, although now that I thought about it, those bank robbers could have killed me. Solomon better whip off his shirt and offer me a naked cuddle to make up for that. The request was on the tip of my tongue when I saw two familiar men walking into the bank.
Special Agent Adam Maddox was a former detective, my ex-boyfriend, and now a fully fledged federal agent. Since the police/boyfriend days, we managed to ease into a companionable, trustworthy friendship. It didn't hurt that he was especially nice to look at with a shock of brown hair and piercing, blue eyes. I may have had a smokin' hot husband but I wasn't blind. Special Agent Sadiq Farid was Maddox's new partner, an intelligent, cheerful man who viewed me like a science experiment gone wrong. I liked both men a lot. We recently collaborated on a case together but I couldn't imagine what could possibly motivate them to come to the bank, not for a simple robbery. Unless, this was part of a grander scale of theft?
"Heads up," I murmured, nodding towards the two men. "FBI."
Garrett peeled off to approach them and as Maddox looked over, I saw the flash of concern in his eyes when he noticed me. I held up my hand and gave him the “okay” sign and a smile. There was no point in worrying him too. A moment later, all three walked back to us.
"So this is the Graves Mafia at work," said Farid, glancing at my brothers dotted around the room.
"Something like that," I said. "If you can spot an officer we're not related to, you get a piece of chocolate candy."
"Gee," said Farid, pushing a fist under his chin and looking for all the world like he was trying to guess.
"Ehhh!" I squeaked a noise like a buzzer. "Too slow! I'm related to everyone in this room."
"No shit?" Farid grinned amiably. "What about her?" He pointed.