particular bank. And it was reason enough for Melanie to believe that Jared might actually be able to pull this off.
Jared was now fiddling with his wristwatch. Melanie wiped the palms of her hands on her jeans, trying to be casual, trying not to draw Charlie’s or Jared’s attention. She kept the car engine idling with the vents blasting cold air, and she felt a chill. She examined the other cars in the lot. The bank’s drive-through lane was empty. The access road was empty. Even across the street at the dealership there was no activity. It almost seemed too quiet. Too perfect. She glanced up and in the rearview mirror saw Jared pull two guns out of his duffel bag.
CHAPTER 14
4:15 p.m.
“Jesus, Jared. Where the hell did you get those?”
“Where do you think?”
“You know how I feel about guns.”
“That was a long time ago, Mel. Get over it. Besides, what did you think we’d do? Slip them a note and they’d simply hand over a bag of cash?”
Melanie gripped the steering wheel, keeping herself from spinning around to get a better look. Out of the corner of her eye she could see that Charlie sat sideways, his arm slung over the seat back, watching Jared and smiling. He seemed excited to get his hands on one of those guns. Melanie tried to catch his eye, hoping he’d notice her disapproval. But at the moment the boy couldn’t notice anything other than the shiny metal Jared was sneaking forward to him over the middle front console.
Charlie took the gun, keeping it low and out of sight but turning it over and over as if it were a new toy.
Melanie wanted to grab it away from him. She wanted to tell Jared to forget it. She wanted to speed away and not give him a choice. Instead, she sat there frozen, continuing to grip the wheel, trying to ignore the trickle of sweat that slid down her back.
“We’ve never had to use a gun before.” She finally found her voice, though it sounded like someone else’s, small and weak. But it was something she was proud of. Charlie and she had never used any kind of weapon. Unless you counted the wire clothes hanger Charlie used to pop the locks of Saturn doors.
She checked the rearview mirror. Jared was transferring the contents of his duffel bag to the pockets of his coverall. “We’ve never had to use a gun before,” she repeated, this time a little louder.
“I heard you the first time,” her brother said without looking up. “You don’t need a gun when you’re pulling off piddly little shit jobs.”
She wanted to tell him that those piddly little shit jobs had kept her and Charlie off the streets and living quite comfortably for almost ten years. But there was no way she could stand up to Jared with her cheeks burning and her voice shaky. He didn’t seem to think they were piddly shit jobs five years ago. She met his eyes again in the rearview mirror, calm, dark eyes. How could he be so calm?
“Remember everything I told you, Charlie?” His eyes never left Melanie’s.
“Yup,” her son answered so quickly, so confidently that Melanie jerked around to look at him, shocked to find the red kerchief up over the lower part of his face and a black stocking cap pulled down over his forehead. All she could see were his eyes. She stared at him as he shoved the gun into one of the coverall’s oversize pockets, treating it as if it were something he handled every day.
“Leave the car running.” Jared lifted his kerchief over his nose and mouth.
Melanie looked from one to the other. Didn’t they realize how ridiculous they looked? Then suddenly she decided she wanted this over with, the sooner, the better. Of course, she’d leave the car running, and she reached to turn off the A/C.
“We don’t need the engine overheating at a time like this.”
“Good idea, Mel,” Jared muttered through the cloth, and his rare compliment actually seemed to soothe her a little.
Jared hesitated, checking out the parking lot, craning his neck and looking in
Barbara Samuel, Ruth Wind