Authors: Maxi MacNair
The smile wiped off her face. She knew everything about Randi. Knew about her abortion, knew she and Devon had tried and tried. Had heard Randi tell the story of how Devon killed himself, cold and emotionless though.
“Are you okay?”
“I think so.”
“And this guy…did you tell him?”
She nodded.
“Is he down with it?”
“I don’t know yet. He seems pretty into me. He was upset I never called.”
“Well, that’s kind of a no brainer.” Chris gave her a sad smile. “You’re keeping it.” She didn’t need to make it a question, she knew her friend and partner almost better than she knew herself.
“I have to. I don’t regret what I did, but I can’t do it again. I need to do this.”
“Whatever you need, I’m here for you. I’ve got a bunch of Teddy’s old stuff you can have, we’ve got furniture, clothes, we’re not using any of it. I kept thinking about getting rid of it or donating it. I guess I was keeping it for you.”
“You’re sure you’re not going to have another one?” Randi smiled.
Chris balked at her. “Another one? A fourth one? Once you have that baby, you let me know how many more you want to have.”
“Hey, you did it three times.” Randi hugged Chris, and could feel she was more careful than usual with her. “I’d be lost without you.”
James spent about an hour before the robbery making sure his prosthetics were in place. A longer, hooked nose. Wider lips. Bushier eyebrows. He put brown contacts over his blue eyes. Caps on his teeth, including one to made it look like his front tooth was broken. If one examined him closely, it was easy to tell it was blacked out, but at a glance, say, from a frightened teller, they would remember a man with a broken tooth. His disguises were something he learned over time. With his first big score he took theatre classes, bought every book on movie makeup he could find. If he could safely live in the country he could probably get a job designing costumes and makeup in the movies.
He took the Mercedes to a parking garage about a half mile from the First Consolidated Bank, and took his ticket from the automated teller. He parked and walked three blocks to a 1992 Toyota Corolla in another three storied parking lot mostly held together with Bondo and duct tape. The whole thing was had been being orchestrated for so long now. The cars stolen from a junkyard and fixed up so they could drive, and then planted in the parking lots yesterday. The only thing that could stop this part of the plan was if the car wouldn’t start. Calrissian and Skywalker would be in the subway bathroom right now about finished applying their own makeup and prosthetics in the stalls. This part of the plan took longer for James to teach them than he had wanted, but they had it down now and would be starting their two block stroll to the bank. The Corolla was going to take them two blocks in less than thirty seconds where they had everything stashed in the alley, the bleach the gasoline and the matches, and a nearby door that hid clothes they could throw on and boxes they could stuff the cash into and blend into the crowd like they were just any other shoppers that day.
The car wheezed to life and James drove it to the bank. He made a loop around the block, checked the time on his cheap watch, and parked the car right outside the bank, but just far enough outside of the sight of the cameras he knew about.
He saw Skywalker approaching, knew Calrissian would be fifteen seconds behind him. He left the key in the ashtray and the doors unlocked for a quick and unassuming getaway, that part in the last heist definitely did not go as planned.
They walked in like normal customers, the same adrenaline flooding him like he used to get before raids at war. He missed the soldiers who walked beside him. These guys were okay, but he didn’t know them. They weren’t his brothers, like the other army guys had been.
They got in three different lines, and James approved when Skywalker let a sweet little old lady go ahead of him. He only did it so he and James would hit their tellers at the same time. But it would be remembered as a nice gesture. They’d had a long talk about not getting too hot, not like Blitzen had.
The lines crawled. Calrissian was lagging behind them but James didn’t sweat it.
He pushed his thoughts away from his unborn child. It wouldn’t do to be distracted now. He needed a clear head.
When his turn came he got the young teller he had already cased—better for a stick up. She seemed flustered and tired her big brown eyes went wide and she started to cry when James slid her the note. He flashed her the sight of the gun to scare her straight.
He tapped the note and quickly glanced around to see the other two in the same process he was. Their tellers though seemed less obviously nervous and scared.
She bobbled her head up and down.
“No dye packs please,” he said it like he was asking for tens instead of twenties for change, which didn’t elicit a reaction from the person next in line standing five feet back from James.
The dye packs weren’t really the end of the world—Jesus, if he got one, though, he wouldn’t be able to see Randi until it all wore off, and it would take a while. She would be pissed though not broken like if she discovered he was the bank robber she was hunting for.
The girl fed money into the bag he’d provided. He didn’t glance over at Skywalker, confident the man was still handling it.
She pushed it back towards him. “Is that it? It’s insured, so it’s not worth risking your life over money that’s gonna be paid back anyway.”
She sobbed and fished out a few more stacks of cash.
“And no dye packs?”
She shook her head no.
“Don’t call the next person in line until I am out the door okay Jessica. She snapped to attention the moment he said her name, and just do what the last line says okay. Count to thirty before you call the cops, Jessica and then this is all over.
He took the money and calmly walked out. The other patrons knew something was up, but weren’t sure what.
Skywalker followed him a beat later, Calrissian was already a few steps ahead of them.
Alarm klaxons blared as they stepped out into January cold. Once they got outside though the plan was to stay calm and briskly walk to the car. No scrambling, no calling attention to themselves. They calmly slid inside, James up front, Skywalker in the back, Calrissian driving now.
No one spoke as Calrissian eased the car into traffic. The two who weren’t driving worked to pull off the latex prosthetics. The noses, teeth, eyebrows. James yanked out his contacts. Didn’t dare peek in the bag at his feet, yet. It was heavy. The last few bundles she’d put in would really make the difference. Still seated, he shimmied out of his sweatshirt and baggy jeans, revealing crisply pressed dress pants, a button down shirt, and a tie. He pulled the stocking cap from his head and arranged his hair. A glance in the back seat showed Skywalker in a similar condition. James quickly reached over and started working on Calrissian and soon they were just three well-dressed businessmen on their way back from lunch. James collected all the discarded items, put them in a trash bag and double bagged it just as they pulled into the alley where like experts they doused the car in bleach then followed by gasoline as James grabbed the matchbook. The sound of sirens could be heard as the three of them went separate ways away from the alley, James asking two homeless men in his path if they could see the fire happening in the alley. Then on to the warehouse. They divided the money into three even stacks, a little over thirty-five grand for each of them. Not the best take, nor the worst. They got into a Subaru outback, Skywalker’s personal vehicle, and he dropped them at each of the other cars.
James drove past the First Consolidated Bank, and sure enough, a throng of cops were outside. He looked for Randi, but didn’t see her. His gut was twisting again as he thought of what was happening. He called her cell and when she answered she sounded frustrated.
“I wanted to check in and see how your day was going.”
“Ugh.”
“That good? Want to come for dinner tonight? I’m cooking?”
“You cook, too?”
“Sure do!”
“I can’t. There’s been another robbery.”
“Another one?” He tried to make his voice sound surprised, but he sounded like he was in pain. He didn’t like lying to her.
“These guys are getting bold. I’m really worried about it. That’s too many heists in too short a time.”
“So come over after.” James thought that being with her would make these terrible feelings go away.
“I might be here all night.”
“So come over in the morning. Whenever you’re done.”
“James,” she said. “What do you do for work? We’ve never talked about it.”
It was the last question he wanted to answer, but he let out what he had been rehearsing: “Investment stuff. All online. I work from home. I’ll be around. Come over when you’re free. Any time, day or night.”
“At this rate it will be tomorrow.”
“I’ll be here.” Just then he caught sight of her through the car window on her cell talking to him.
“Okay. I have to run home first. Grab clothes, take a shower.”
“Grab clothes. I’ll have a bath run for you here if you let me know when you’re on your way.” He couldn’t help but twist his face while telling that lie.
“Wow. I can’t say no to that.”
“You really can’t.”
“Okay. I’ll let you know when I’m coming.”
* * *
This time the doorman smiled at Randi and welcomed her to the building, even though it was a few minutes before four in the morning. As she rode up to the penthouse, an overnight bag over one arm, the elevator operator didn’t even bat an eye. Did James do this a lot, or was the doorman being discreet?
It didn’t matter. Randi’s eyes felt like they’d been wrapped in sandpaper, and she could barely stand she was so exhausted. When she called James she tried to tell him not to bother with the bath, all she wanted was a quick shower, then about sixteen hours of sleep. Which wouldn’t even be possible as she and Chris were back on duty as soon as she could pull herself out of bed.
The elevator doors slid open without a sound, and Randi stepped into James’ hall. She didn’t see him, so she hung her coat in the closet, and ventured into the apartment. Maybe he’d forgotten she was coming and fallen asleep—
No.
She saw the rose petals on the floor, lit by flickering candles. Oh, he didn’t…
Randi grinned as she followed the path he laid for her. She lingered in the bathroom door and discovered him, already immersed in bubbles up to his neck. The tub was huge, more like a small swimming pool, really, and steam swirled up around his face.
“You must be so tired. Any luck catching him?”
“No. Nothing. I caught you, though.”
A weird look flickered across his eyes.
“You okay?” she asked.
“Right as rain. With you here, I couldn’t be better. Get on in here.”
“Okay.” For whatever reason, she was blushing. She felt on display as she undressed. He leaned back in the huge tub, watching her shrug out of her sweater, her slacks. Now she stood before him in a tight cami and her panties. She pulled the cami over her head, and unclasped her bra. It felt so good to let her breasts bounce free. She needed new bras, next size up. She’d always been a C, now she needed Ds. At work she dressed to minimize them, to keep them seeming smaller than they were. Now she paraded them for a naked man.
She daintily stepped out of her panties, and did a little twirl for him.
He moaned. “Do it again.” She did. “Now get your ass over here.”
She did.
Any hotter and the water would have been too much, but he had the temperature just right as she sunk into the tub’s depths. He pulled her on top of him, nuzzling her breasts.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said.
In Randi’s past experience, sex in a tub had been an awkward, uncomfortable affair, lots of water sloshing, not quite enough lubrication. She wasn’t sure if it was the size of this tub, or her massive arousal—which shouldered aside all of her exhaustion—but she slid onto his massive girth easily. He filled her and she sucked in her breath with pleasure. She leaned her head on his shoulder and they rocked together in the warm water, his hands roaming her soapy, wet back.
They didn’t come. Their motions grew more and more gentle, slow, luxurious thrusts. Then they stopped, enjoying one another’s company, him inside her. Nestled against him, her eyes drooped closed.
He let her doze, then roused her, whispering, “let’s get you to bed.” He toweled her off with a big fluffy towel, wrapping her hair, and carried her to his giant bed. The silk sheets had been replaced with flannel and her warm, naked body nestled into the sheets. Randi was asleep as her head hit the pillow.
* * *
When she woke up, she didn’t know what time it was, but she could see sunlight peeking through the edges of James’ blinds. His voice came to her from the living room. Hushed tones sounding worried about something. She wrapped herself in a blanket, and stepped out of bed. The lush carpet felt like heaven under her bare toes.
She eased opened the bedroom door and he froze like a startled cat.
“Not a good time. Gotta call you back.”
Suspicion flickered in her. She tamped it down. She’d become part of his life only about forty-eight hours ago, and he’d welcomed her with open arms. He may have other things to clear up.
He hung up the phone and she noticed it was a cheap burner phone, the kind you could get for a few bucks at any Walmart or corner store. He slipped it in his pocket.
“Hey you. I didn’t know how late to let you sleep, so I figured I’d let you go for it.”
“I can wait until late in the afternoon to go in.”
“Plenty of time. Are you hungry?”
“I should get dressed.”
“I disagree. Breakfast in bed.”
She nodded, still tired, happy to relax for a bit and let someone pamper her a little while longer. She fell back asleep until he came in with a tray with eggs, bacon, orange juice, and a single rose.
“I had one left over from last night.”
“You’re a romantic.” They talked as she ate. He told her about his time in the Army.
“I always hoped to go to school on the GI bill, but it didn’t happen.”
“You seem to be doing pretty well for yourself.”
He shrugged, and averted his eyes. For all the wealth he flaunted, he was modest.