“Miss Davis is my fiancé,” Simon said. “She is very much part of my business.”
“Very well,” Brown said. “This way.”
In order to get to his office, they had to pass the huge vault, which had three guards with rifles standing around it. There was a fourth guard by the front door and a fifth on the roof. They all wore blue uniforms. Belinda was happy to see that the number was what she had reported to Jeb.
They entered his office and as Brown crossed to the desk Belinda closed the door behind them.
“Oh, you can leave the door open, Miss—”
“I don’t think so,” Belinda said.
“I don’t und—”
Belinda reached into her purse and came out with a nickel-plated .32 revolver. She pointed it at the bank manager and said, “Shut up.”
“Belinda—” Simon said, aghast.
“I’m sorry, Alvin,” she said. “I decided a whole bank is better than one man. Now move over there with him.”
“But—what are you doing?”
“Just do it!” she said. “Don’t make me shoot you.”
“You better come over here, Alvin,” Brown said. “She looks serious.”
Slowly, Simon walked across the room and joined Brown behind the desk. The manager started to sit, but Belinda stopped him.
“Stay standing and put your hands on your head. Don’t go for a gun in your drawer and don’t press any buttons.”
“Miss,” Edmund Brown said with confidence, “you can’t really think you’re going to get away with this. There are guards—”
“Mr. Brown, if you don’t shut up right this minute, I will shoot you.”
Brown fell silent.
“Alvin, go to the window.”
“What?”
“Go to the window—that one, at the back—and open it.”
“The window?”
“Goddamn it, Alvin,” she snapped, “don’t keep repeating everything I say. Just do it!”
Alvin Simon walked to the window and opened it. In seconds a leg appeared and he backed away to allow Jeb Collier to enter.
“Oh my God,” Brown said.
The saloon was down the street, but on the other side of the bank. Shaye didn’t feel he had time to go there and fetch Thomas and James. And even if the men waiting in front of the saloon were a decoy, they were still dangerous. As it stood now, there would be four bank robbers—five, if you counted Belinda—against the two of them and five bank guards, although he was pretty sure Jeb Collier had plans for the guards.
Delay and Tanner followed Collier through the window and they all brandished guns.
“Put him in a corner,” Jeb said, pointing to Alvin.
Tanner pushed the shocked hardware store owner into a corner and said, “Stay there and keep quiet.”
“You, Bank Manager.”
“Yes?”
“You’re gonna open the door and call two of the guards from the vault in here.”
Brown, seeing this as his chance to alert the guards, started for the door quickly.
“Slow!” Jeb said. “If you try to warn them, you’ll be the first one to die. I’ll put a bullet in the back of your head. Do you understand?”
“Y-yes, I understand.” For the first time Edmund Brown wished he had accepted the offer of help from the sheriff.
Shaye and Cotton reached the front of the bank.
“Now what?” Cotton asked. “Do we rush them?”
“We don’t know what’s going on inside the bank,” Shaye said. “If we rush in, they might start shooting and somebody will get killed.”
As they watched, a woman approached the front door and entered. She was obviously a customer.
“They’re letting people in,” Cotton said.
“Okay,” Shaye said. “Let’s take a chance, Riley.”
“What do you mean?”
“One of us has to go inside, without a badge on, as if we’re just another customer. The badge would attract immediate attention. This way maybe we buy a valuable second or two.”
“And the other one?”
“Around back.”
“Which one of us will they recognize easier?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Shaye said. “They’ve seen us both. I’ll go inside, you go around back.”
“Maybe I should—”
“We don’t have time to draw straws, Riley,” Shaye said. “Let’s just do it.”
“All right,” Cotton said. “All right. Let’s do it.”
73
“I need two of you gentlemen in here, please,” Edmund Brown said from the doorway of his office.
“Sir?” one of the guards said.
“Two of you,” Brown said, “in here.”
The guards all exchanged glances.
“Sir, we’re not supposed to leave the—”
“I have an important depositor in my office and I need two of you in here…now!” Brown snapped.
“Yes, sir.”
The three men exchanged another glance and then two of them broke away from the vault and moved toward the office. Brown backed away so they could come through the doorway.
“What’s the prob—” one of them started, but he was literally cut off. Vic Delay grabbed him from behind and, using one of his knives, cut the man’s throat.
The other guard got a gun barrel shoved up in his nose by Lou Tanner, who growled, “Don’t move.” He relieved the guard of his rifle.
Belinda stifled a scream by placing both hands over her mouth as a torrent of blood ran down the guard’s chest. Delay caught the man beneath the arms and lowered him to the floor.
“That’s to let you know we mean business,” Jeb Collier said, pointing down at the dead man.
“W-what do you want?” Brown asked, finding his voice with difficulty.
“Money,” Jeb said, “and lots of it.”
“There are still two guards outside,” Tanner said.
“I know,” Jeb said. “We’re goin’ out there in a minute.”
“How are we gonna play it?” Delay asked.
“You take the manager,” Jeb said, “and I’ll take the girl.”
“What?” Belinda asked, surprised.
Jeb smiled and said, “Relax, sweetie. You’re gonna be a hostage.”
Before entering the bank Shaye relinquished the shotgun to Sheriff Cotton. Next he took off his badge and put it in his shirt pocket. Hoping he wouldn’t garner too much attention, he opened the door and entered.
Everything looked quiet inside. Three of the five teller cages were manned. The woman who had entered before him was standing at one of them. To his left was one security guard, who gave him a hard once-over, his gaze lingering on Shaye’s gun.
But nobody else was looking at him, so he sidled over to the guard, removed his badge from his pocket, palmed it, and showed it to the guard.
“There may be a robbery going on,” Shaye said.
“What?” The man took a good look at Shaye’s badge. “What are you talkin’ ’bout, Deputy. It’s quiet in here.”
Shaye looked around again. Belinda and her beau, Alvin Simon, were nowhere in sight.
“You know Belinda Davis? Alvin Simon?”
“Yeah, they came in a little while ago. First customers.”
“Where are they?”
“In the manager’s office.”
“How many other guards?”
“Three at the vault.”
“Do me a favor,” Shaye said. “Without attracting any attention, go and see if they’re all there.”
“Where would they go?”
“Humor me.”
The guard, a man in his mid-thirties, said, “Okay, Deputy.”
As nonchalantly as he could, the guard walked across the floor. He had to go behind the tellers’ cage to check on the vault, which was not visible from this part of the bank. In a few moments he came back, looking worried.