in sudden overdrive, Reese looked around and saw a young woman with a baby in a carrier standing in front of the teller’s window. As his adrenaline spiked, details came into focus. The teller’s nameplate said Lori Anglero. The woman with the baby had soft blond hair that fell to her shoulders in pretty waves. The man behind him had bad breath and needed a shower.
Reese’s time as a cop on the streets of Washington, D.C., now served him well. He didn’t even blink. “You think this is going to work for you?”
“Yep. You’re the only man in here. I don’t need you having a hero complex because I’m trying to do this without killing anyone. But I will if I have to. On the floor. Now.”
The door chimed one more time, and Reese caught sight of two more masked men entering the First National Bank of Rose Mountain.
“Everybody down! Now!” The man behind Reese gave him a hard shove.
Reese dropped, grateful he wasn’t wearing his uniform and that the gun hidden under his coat in the small of his back had gone undiscovered.
Screams echoed and Reese saw the woman in front of Lori’s window drop down to become a human shield for the baby.
“Down! Down!” The man who’d taken Reese by surprise aimed his gun and pulled the trigger.
* * *
The bullet slammed into the wall above Maggie Bennett’s head. With a scream, she tightened her protective stance over her eight-month-old daughter’s carrier.
Terror spiraling through her, Maggie whipped her head to the left to see three gunmen in black masks. One stood by the door, his broad shoulders and tight grip on the pistol in his left hand saying he’d be a force to reckon with. Another, tall and lanky, hovered in a threatening stance over the man on the floor. The third held his weapon in a way that said he knew how to use it—and would. The tall, skinny one with his weapon trained on the man on the floor grunted, “Charlie, get the cash.”
Charlie leaped over the counter. As he did, his foot caught the nearest silver pole holding the red velvet ropes used to separate customers into lines. The pole crashed to the tile floor with a loud clang, and Maggie cringed. Charlie cursed, regained his footing and pointed the gun in bank teller’s terrified face. “You deaf? I said get down!”
The teller dropped.
So did Ashley O’Neal, the other teller who’d been so friendly to Maggie last Sunday at church.
At three o’clock on a Monday afternoon, Maggie and the man now on the floor were the only customers in the bank. She watched his hand angling under his heavy suede jacket.
What was he doing?
Her eyes darted from robber to robber, to the door then back to the man on the floor.
There was no security guard and no help in sight.
The broad-shouldered one who stood by the door appeared to be in charge. He jutted his chin toward the man on the floor. “Cover him, Slim. He looks like he might be thinking he wants to put up a fight.”
Still hunched over Belle’s carrier, Maggie felt strangled by her fear and she wasn’t sure what to do. She was frozen in place, watching the incidents playing out before her as though they were on a big screen and she was in the audience.
But she wasn’t. This was real. And it was happening to her.
Her first reaction was to look for a way to protect Isabella. Her second to silently screech out a desperate prayer as she slumped to the floor next to the fallen pole, keeping herself between the men and her baby. Her foot became entangled in the rope now snaking the floor, but she ignored it. Her only thought was to keep her cool and survive. Old instincts surfaced, and a chill that matched the November air outside the bank swept through her.
As her eyes jumped from one robber to the next, she let her gaze land on the other bank customer. He lay still, left hand away from his side, right still hidden by his jacket. His sharp green eyes took in the unfolding scene. Maggie could see the tension in his shoulders and face and prayed he didn’t do something stupid, like try to be a hero.
He’d get them all killed.
“You!” Charlie yelled at the teller who’d been helping Maggie. “Stand up!”
The woman obeyed, tears tracking her cheeks, hands raised as she backed up away from her station. “D-don’t shoot me. Take what you want.”
Slim continued to hold his gun on the man on the floor while Charlie threw a large bag at Maggie’s teller. “Load it up. Now.”
The woman caught it, fumbled it, shot a terrified glance at the man, then went to work. Even from her spot at the last teller station next to the wall, Maggie could see the woman’s hands shaking.
“Hurry up!” The lookout man next to the door shifted, the chink in his calm demeanor grabbing Maggie’s attention. So he wasn’t as cool about this as he’d first appeared.
Charlie shot him an aggravated look, his eyes piercing and hard behind his mask. “Just watch the street.”
Then he turned back to jab the teller with his weapon. “Move! Move! This ain’t a tea party!”
Lori’s hands shook so hard Maggie was afraid she’d drop the cash and the man would shoot her. She almost offered to help but bit her tongue. As long as Lori was getting the money in the bag, Maggie would stay quiet and keep her body covering Belle’s. She darted a glance in the direction of the offices. One door was closed. The bank manager in hiding?
She prayed that no one else would walk in and this would all be over in a few seconds. Dark spots danced before her eyes, and she realized that she was holding her breath. She gasped in air. The dancing spots disappeared, but Belle started to cry. Maggie froze.
The lookout lifted his gun and pointed it at her. “Shut the kid up.”
Immediately, Maggie knelt and unbuckled Belle from her car seat. Picking her up, she settled the baby against her and turned her back to everything going on. Belle sniffed and lay her head on Maggie’s shoulder, thankfully content to be out of the carrier and to suck on the pacifier Maggie shoved in her mouth.
Maggie glanced over her shoulder as Charlie hauled himself back on the other side of the counter and held up the bag. “Got it!” His gaze landed on Maggie and she stilled, not liking the look in his eyes.
Slim spoke. “Get the other drawer.”
“We don’t have time for that, Slim,” the lookout protested. So maybe Slim was the one in charge?
Charlie ignored his partner and slung the bag back at the teller who moved to the next drawer.
Sirens sounded and the three masked men exchanged a glance. Slim growled, “Who tripped the alarm? Who?”
The robber nearest the door immediately turned and disappeared through it.
Maggie saw the well-built customer on the floor clench his jaw even as he slowly moved his hand back under his jacket.
The door burst back open. “The cops are almost here! I got the car! Let’s get this
