Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 74315 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74315 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
I’d spent more time with his brother this past week than I had with him.
“Mrs. Shepherd, Ms. Shepherd, how can I help you today?” The slimy bank manager asked cordially.
I wanted to punch him in the fucking nose.
“I’m here to pay off the business. I sold my house yesterday, for a good amount more than I purchased it for, thanks for not asking. Here’s the check,” I said, handing it over to him.
His eyes bulged when he saw the amount. “You-you’re paying it all?”
I nodded. “You said, ‘Pay in Full’ on the papers. That’s what I’m doing.”
He nodded and took the check over to the computer nearest to the wall.
“Well, let’s just do that real quick.”
The bank manager I was dealing with was named Elbert Rommel.
He probably was an okay guy at one point in time, but as I’d learned just last night from the private detective my lawyer had hired, Elbert had a little gambling problem. Elbert liked to spend money that wasn’t his, and Linda had, somehow, found out.
The private detective was still narrowing down how Linda had found out, but he’d turned over all his information to the local PD detectives with the hopes that they’d do something about it.
Therefore disabling Linda’s avenue to do more harm to anyone else.
“Alright, Ms. Shepherd, I have you paid in full. The bank will be sending out the deeds in a few short weeks. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
Instead of answering, I turned around and walked towards the door.
My mother had a few choice words for him, though, which was what saved me from getting a glass door to the face when it was shoved violently open from the other side.
“Everybody down,” a woman’s frantic voice said. “Everybody down, and don’t stinkin’ move.”
Stinkin’?
Despite my thinking that the woman’s choice of words were childish, the gun she had in her hands was anything but childish.
I dove to the floor, moving towards the corner, as far as I could, since there was a popcorn machine in the way.
I was fairly well hidden, although my mother wasn’t.
The woman with the gun hadn’t spared her any mind, though, thank God.
“Everybody, I said get down!” The woman screamed once again.
I winced, and felt my phone vibrate in my pocket.
Alarm shot through me as I frantically thought through my morning.
Did I put my phone on silent?
When it didn’t ring out, I breathed a sigh of relief.
I had.
Thank you, Jesus.
That didn’t mean I couldn’t answer it, though.
Who was on the other end?
Turns out, it was the loan coordinator…for the loan I’d just paid off.
After slowly slipping my phone out of my pocket, I grimaced as the same man who’d been calling me night and day for two weeks now started jabbering a mile a minute.
I wasted no time in hanging up on him, though.
Lifting my knees to my chest, I immediately dialed 911, with the phone in between my upraised knees and my chest.
I couldn’t tell you what the woman…or man…was saying.
All I could tell you, was that whomever was on the other end, had me on the line.
It helped that the crazy woman that started to sound more and more familiar continued her ranting.
“I want every single bit of cash out of each and every one of your drawers. Even the ones in the back. Speaking of which, close the windows down and close the curtains. Turn off all open signs,” she screeched.
Bank robber. Got it.
She looked good, too.
She had on tight black pants, high heeled boots that came up to her knees, and a black skin tight turtle neck.
She was wearing a black and white wool scarf wrapped around her face, making the only thing I could see her eyes.
I couldn’t even tell her hair color, but if I could guess, it’d be blonde with lighter blonde highlights. That’s just what her voice made me think of.
Kilgore was a fairly tight-knit community, so it wasn’t every day that I didn’t know who someone was. Which was why it was nagging me to death that the name of whomever was behind the mask wasn’t coming to me, but it was right on the tip of my tongue.
Her hands were covered in black leather gloves, and the bag she held in her hand was a Dooney and Burke.
So the woman needed money? Why?
My guess, was that she spent it all on her wardrobe.
I bet she drove a Lexus.
“Now!” She screamed.
“Two minutes, two minutes, two minutes,” the woman repeated over and over.
By the thirtieth time she said it, I guessed she’d been there for going on five minutes. Making her goal of two minutes comically incorrect.
Curling into myself, as well as my way beyond too tight jeans would allow, I hunched over the phone to see if I could hear the person on the phone.
I wouldn’t be saying anything. I wasn’t one to bring the attention of a killer to me on purpose.
Vaguely I heard the words ‘hostages’ and ‘SWAT.’
Then my stomach tightened.
“Oh, shit,” I said softly. “You need to warn Miller.”
I said it so softly that I didn’t think the dispatcher would hear me, but she did.
“Miller?” I heard repeated.
“Boyfriend. On the force.”
That time I caught the attention of the crazy lady with the gun.
Her eyes swept behind her, totally missing me where I was wedged behind the popcorn maker.
It was one of those actual popcorn poppers, kind of like the ones at the movies, but shrunk into a more manageable size.
It was hot, too. The smell of popcorn was so tantalizing that my mouth was watering.
The butter was sitting in front of me, and the bags of pre-made, ready to melt in your mouth, popcorn was sitting only inches from my face.
“…officer Spurlock. SWAT. Mercy?”
“Yes,” I confirmed once crazy lady turned back around.
“We don’t have any bags,” I heard said hesitantly from the front. “The armored vehicle just picked up our deposit, taking our bags with it.”
The woman screeched. “You’re telling me you don’t have any money, either?”
Oh, shit.
The woman’s hand, the one that was holding the gun, started to wobble.