Free The Collectors by David Baldacci

undress before?”
    “No. I mean,
yes,
I have.” He looked down at his hands.
    “What’s wrong with you?” Leo asked.
    Tony looked up. “I think she just called me a talented con.”

CHAPTER 11
    I T WAS THE LAST PASS. T ONY was standing in front of the teller, a cute young Asian woman with shoulder-length black hair, flawless skin and walnut cheekbones. Clearly intrigued, Tony leaned closer and rested his arm on the counter.
    “You lived here long?” he asked her.
    “A few months; I moved here from Seattle.”
    “Same sort of weather,” Tony said.
    “Yes,” the woman answered, smiling as she worked away.
    “I just moved here from Vegas,” Tony said. “Now, that’s a fun town.”
    “I’ve never been.”
    “Oh, man, it’s a blast. You’ve gotta go. And like they say, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.” He looked at her expectantly. “I’d love to show you around.”
    She looked at him disapprovingly. “I don’t even know you.”
    “Okay, we don’t have to start with Vegas. Maybe we just start with lunch.”
    She said defiantly, “How do you know I don’t have a boyfriend?”
    “As gorgeous as you are, you probably do. But that means I have to work all that much harder to make you forget him.”
    The woman blushed and looked down, but now she was smiling again. “You’re crazy.” She hit some keys on her computer. “Okay, can I see some ID?”
    “Only if you promise you won’t say no when I officially ask you out.”
    She took the ID from him and let her finger graze his. He gave her another smile.
    She glanced at the ID and looked puzzled. “I thought you said you just moved here from Vegas?”
    “That’s right.”
    “But your ID says Arizona.” She turned it around to show him. “And that really doesn’t look like you.”
    Oh, crap!
He’d pulled the wrong ID from his pocket. Despite Annabelle instructing him to only take one ID pack at a time, he’d stubbornly carried them all. In the photo his hair was blond and he had a small goatee and was wearing Ben Franklin eyeglasses.
    “I lived in Arizona but worked in Vegas, it was cheaper,” he said quickly. “And I decided to change my style, new color, contact lenses. You know.”
    As soon as he delivered these lame lines, he knew it was over.
    The teller stared at the check, and her look became even more suspicious. “This is a California bank check and a California company, but the routing number is for New York. Why’s that?”
    “Routing numbers? I don’t know anything about that,” Tony said, his voice now quavering. From her expression Tony knew the woman had already pronounced him guilty of bank fraud. She glanced in the direction of the security guard and placed the check and Tony’s fake ID down on the counter in front of her. “I’m going to have to call my manager over,” the teller began.
    “What is going on here?” a low voice said sharply. “Excuse me.” The woman pushed Tony out of the way and confronted the teller. She was tall and plump with blond hair and dark roots. Her glasses were slim designer models hanging on a chain, and she was dressed in a purple blouse and black slacks.
    She spoke quietly but firmly to the young woman behind the counter. “I’ve been standing here for ten minutes while you two play cutie-pie with each other. Is that the kind of service this bank provides? Why don’t we get your manager over here and see?”
    The clerk took a step back, her eyes wide. “Ma’am, I’m sorry, I was just—”
    “I know what you were
just
doing,” the woman interrupted. “I could hear it, everyone in the bank could hear you two flirting and discussing your love life.”
    The clerk’s face reddened. “Ma’am, we were doing no such thing.”
    The woman put her hands on the counter and leaned forward. “Oh, really, so when you were talking about boyfriends and Vegas and he was telling you how gorgeous you were, that was what, official bank business? Do you do that with all your