seven

A sandy-haired woman in an expensive Moncler coat stepped out of her Mercedes and looked across the parking lot at the glut of police cars behind the bank. She surveyed the area until she saw a familiar face—one of the bank tellers—sitting in an old Toyota across the street. The woman brushed her feathered hair from her face and walked over to the teller’s car.

At the Toyota, she bent and knocked on the driver’s-side window, startling the young girl inside. The window rolled down and the smells of fresh coffee and cheap perfume drifted out.

“What’s going on?”

“Oh, good morning, Ms.—”

“Call me Lee—everyone does. What’s going on at the bank?”

“Someone tried to rob us.” The teller gestured toward the bank and her voice got low and uneasy. “I shouldn’t say—but I know you are a close friend of Mr. Mendelson—well, Mr. Mendelson was murdered.”

“Murdered?” Lee leaned down to look into the teller’s car window better. “Which Mendelson did the robbers kill—Marshal?”

“No, the police found the Chairman dead. But it wasn’t the robber who killed him. At least, that’s what I heard.”

“Wasn’t the robber?” Lee glanced toward two policemen watching her from the bank parking lot. “Did they catch him?”

“No, but almost. Larry got shot and Mr. Thorne shot the guy, but he got away.”

“Who’s Larry? A cop?”

“Nope. He’s our security guard. Mr. Thorne shot the robber when he tried taking a hostage.”

“Dear God.” Lee checked her watch. She had to be back by ten, and this might change everything—especially if her transactions were involved. “Did the robber get much? Or did the security guard stop the robbery?”

“That’s the funny thing, you know?” The teller leaned out the window. “That guy tried to rob the administration annex. You believe it? He wasn’t even at the bank. I guess he knew.”

“Knew what?”

“About the Mendelson’s big secret.” The teller took a long sip of coffee from her First Bank and Trust of Frederick County travel mug. “Which ain’t secret.”

“Big secret?” Lee tried to sound surprised. “What secret do the Mendelsons have?”

The teller’s face lit up. “He has a private stash in the annex! Everyone talks about it, but it’s supposed to be a big family secret. Some kind of safe or vault or something. Stuffed with cash and some kind of treasure.”

Lee blinked several times. “Treasure? Really?”

“But I don’t know—maybe it’s just gossip. Anyway, bank’s closed. Check back this afternoon.”

Lee thanked her and returned to her Mercedes. She started the engine, turned down the Andrews Sisters CD, and activated her Bluetooth. A moment later, an aged, tired voice answered.

“Good morning, my dear. Your lunch date hasn’t changed plans, I hope?”

Lee watched a police cruiser pull out of the rear bank parking lot and drive slowly past. The policeman driving glanced over and made eye contact with her. She feigned a smile and focused on her call.

“No, Nicholas—at least, not yet. I’m at the bank and there’s something you need to know.”