by Lisa Harris
“We have a witness that said they saw him here yesterday.”
“Then they were mistaken. Maybe they saw my brother.” Kira let out a puff of air. “So why are you looking for Ben?”
Madison hesitated, carefully studying Kira’s expression. “He’s wanted in connection with a string of bank robberies across the state.”
“Bank robberies? Ben?” Kira let out a low laugh. “Yeah, you’ve definitely got the wrong person. Ben’s an accountant. He spends his days crunching numbers, not robbing banks.”
“That might be true, but we still need to speak to him. I’m assuming you can tell us where we could find him. From what we were told, he works from home.”
“I have no idea where he’s living now,” said Kira. “When we broke up, I told him I didn’t want to see him again, and I haven’t.”
“Did he normally work from the houseboat when the two of you were together?”
“Either that, or he’d hole up at a coffee shop. He had this weird habit of being able to focus better when there was more noise around him.”
“Why did you break up?” Madison asked, needing to push her, but not hard enough that she completely shut down.
Kira scowled. “I don’t see how that is any of your business.” She turned away for a minute, looking out over the water. “But our relationship had gotten a bit . . . stale. When he wasn’t working, his attention consisted of getting takeout, playing video games, and watching ESPN. And, I don’t know. I guess I got tired of the rut. He worked fifty hours a week, which meant when he wasn’t working, he was tired. I decided I needed a bit more . . . sizzle . . . in my life that went beyond work.”
“So you never saw anything that implied he might be involved in anything illegal?” Jonas asked.
“If you knew Ben, you’d know it’s just not possible. I mean, when would he have done it? Until recently, he was always either working or with me.”
“And you have no way to get ahold of him?” Madison asked.
“Since you found me, I’m assuming you probably know more about him than I do and would have a better chance of tracking him.”
“So no forwarding address or new telephone number?”
“I have one number for him. I don’t even know if he uses it anymore. And like I said, I have no idea where he’s been staying since he moved out.”
“We’ll need that number.” Madison pressed her hands against the bench. “Are you dating anyone new?”
“Yeah, actually. I joined a dating site. Had a date last night, in fact.”
“Think you’ll see him again?”
“My first date made Ben look like James Bond, but last night’s . . .” Kira shrugged. “I might see him again.”
“My sister met her husband online,” Madison said.
“I’m not surprised, though it all depends on what you want, I suppose.” Kira shrugged. “And if you’re lucky.”
“That definitely wouldn’t be me. I do have one last question for you, Kira.”
“What’s that?”
Madison pulled up a photo on her phone. “We found this box of ammo in your house but couldn’t find a gun registered to your name. Do these bullets belong to you?”
Kira’s brow furrowed. “I don’t own a gun. Maybe they’re my father’s since this is his place. Where did you find them?”
“In the back of a bedroom closet,” Jonas said.
Kira shook her head. “I’ve never seen them before.”
“Does your father own a gun?”
“I don’t know, to be honest. I know he does a lot of shooting at the range, so it’s possible.”
“We appreciate your talking with us,” Madison said, slipping her cell phone back into her pocket.
“Not like I had a choice. And by the way, if you ever decide to try online dating, try Tally. It’s discreet and they do a great job of matching interests.”
“I’ll think about it.” Madison pulled out a card and handed it to her. “And in the meantime, if you do hear from Ben again, call me. It’s in both your best interest.”
Kira nodded.
“I think we need to see about putting more pressure on the brother,” Jonas said as they walked away. “See if he isn’t more willing to talk.”
“Before his sister bails him out.”
Jonas gave instructions to the team on finishing up, then headed toward the car with Madison.
“Your sister actually joined an online dating site?” Jonas asked.
She laughed. “Is that all you got out of that interview?”
“That was the most interesting part, though now I’m wondering if you’ve ever joined one.”
Madison stopped next to his car. “I was just trying to connect with her. It felt as if she was trying too hard to convince me she was single.”
Jonas unlocked the car. “So you don’t believe her.”
“No, I don’t.” She pulled open the passenger side door. “And for the record, I would never join a dating service.”
“I’m just trying to imagine what your profile might say if you did. I’ve heard it’s more important than even a good photo,” he said, smirking at her from across the top of the car. “You have to put information out there that really gives insight into who you are. You know, things you’re passionate about or who has influenced your life. As long as you’re sincere—”
Madison groaned as they both slipped inside the car. “I got the information I needed. That’s what’s important right now.”
“And what information would that be?”
“I saw her screen saver when she got that call.”
“Okay. And?”
“It was a photo of her and Ben,” she said while securing her seat belt. “On top of that, she seemed genuinely surprised when her brother was arrested. It totally set her off-balance. But when we talked about Ben, her body language changed.”
“I’m not sure I follow,” Jonas said, starting the car.
“It was as if she’d rehearsed what she needed to say in case she was questioned, including the entire bit about the dating site. She had all the right answers on the tip of her tongue, and more than likely a profile to match, but I’m pretty sure Ben is not out of the picture.”
“She could be hoping they’ll get back together,” Jonas said.
“Maybe, but I think it’s more likely that they never broke up in the first place.”
“You’re basing all of this on a screen saver?”
“You’re the one who said I should take the lead because of my intuition.”
“While we might have had enough for a federal warrant, Kira had a point,” Jonas said, as he sped through traffic on the way back to the office. “From all we know about Ben Galvan, he doesn’t exactly seem like the type who would rob banks.”
“You don’t think an accountant needs some adventure in his life every once in a while?” Madison turned toward him. “Maybe the risk is what fuels him, because it seems like it has to be more than just the money they’re after.”
“Money still has to play into motive.” He pulled off the freeway.
“But not everyone commits crimes solely for the money,” Madison said.
Jonas glanced at her, then flipped on his turn signal, merging into the next lane. “Whoever it is, they have to know that it will end at some point. Their luck won’t last forever.”
“Our only lead was Ben’s fingerprints found in a stolen getaway car,” Madison said. “How perfect of a match are the fingerprints?”
“The match was declared based on fifteen points in common.”
“So there is a possibility they could be wrong?”
Jonas’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel as he considered the theory. “I guess it’s possible.”
“It seems like the place to start is back at the beginning. We need to go through all the evidence again. Bank camera footage, witness testimonies, everything. Because something had to have been missed. These criminals can’t be that good.”
&n
bsp; Jonas’s phone rang and he answered, putting the call on speaker. “Michaels, what’s going on?”
“911 just got a call. There’s a robbery in progress at the bank on Hillside and Chapel Road. Three suspects all wearing black masks, which matches the MO of the previous robberies. Law enforcement is on the scene as we speak.”
Jonas checked his mirrors, then made a U-turn. “We’re on our way.”
FOUR
Jonas pushed down on the accelerator and headed toward the city. Normally, their job consisted of early morning raids, prisoner transports, and judicial security. Involvement in a bank robbery wasn’t exactly in their job description, but today the rules had shifted significantly. If Ben Galvan was involved, Jonas was going to make sure this was the last time the man ever held up a bank.
“I’ve only got a few minutes to catch up on this case,” Madison said, interrupting his thoughts. “All I know is what I’ve seen on the news and what you’ve mentioned to me over the past couple months. I want to make sure I’m not missing anything.”
“Okay.” Jonas turned down the news that had just come on the radio. “There are four of them, three who hit the banks and a fourth who drives the getaway vehicle. They wear black ski masks and are armed with automatic weapons. They are usually in and out in under five minutes. A bank employee was shot a couple weeks ago, but so far, no one has been killed. The fear, though, is that with the right mix of circumstances, that could easily change. They don’t seem to have a problem intimidating tellers and customers or firing their weapons in the air.”
“Hasn’t security footage caught some of this?”
Jonas shook his head. “They do their research before they go in and always take out any lobby cameras. They’ve managed to never show their faces.”
“What about any footage that shows them casing the banks before the robbery?” Madison asked.
“That has been looked at as well, but so far we haven’t found anything. The only real lead we’ve gotten so far is a witness who was able to get a license plate number off the getaway car. Local police found it abandoned about ten miles from the bank in an old field. It had been stolen the night before and nearly wiped clean. That’s where forensics found the fingerprint that led us to Ben Galvan.”
She tapped her nails against the console. “Any hostages taken in previous robberies?”
“No.” Jonas took a right turn. “They’ve always managed to get clear of the buildings before law enforcement arrives.”
“So their execution is well planned out.”
“Extremely well. According to witnesses, they carry backpacks and wear comm devices so they can talk to each other. We also can assume that whoever’s in the getaway car is feeding them information from local police dispatches.”
“Could they be getting their information from inside the banks?”
“Several leads were followed up on, but nothing came from them, though having an inside informer to so many different banks doesn’t seem reasonable.”
His hands gripped the steering wheel as he caught her expression. Her brow had furrowed like it always did when she was thinking over a problem. He knew she was thinking the same thing he was. How was it possible for someone to have hit so many banks without leaving a trail of evidence? There had to be something law enforcement was missing.
“And the customers and employees?” she asked. “What are they told to do during the robbery?”
“Each time they’re told to lie on the ground, hands behind their heads, or they’ll be shot. Apparently, the threat works.”
He glanced at his GPS on the dash. They were sixty seconds out. So what had gone wrong this time? Why were the robbers still in the building when the cops arrived?
“You said a bank employee was shot in one of the robberies,” Madison said.
He nodded. “In Yakima, one of the tellers disobeyed their instructions and tried to make a call. They shot him in the foot.”
“So they aren’t opposed to stopping anyone who gets in their way, and this time they’re stuck inside the bank and desperate to get out.”
“With detailed reconnaissance before each robbery, they’re going to have an exit plan,” he said.
Jonas felt his blood pressure rise as the bank came in sight. They just didn’t have any idea what that plan was.
The lights on top of the squad cars flashed outside the bank that was already cordoned off by FBI and local law enforcement, who were setting up a mobile command center. It wasn’t the first time Jonas had been involved in a hostage situation. Two months ago, he’d gone in with a team of US Marshals and a local task force in order to serve a warrant on an escaped prisoner who’d barricaded himself into the back room of his house, using his girlfriend as a hostage. He ended up walking out after five hours with no one getting hurt.
But situations didn’t always end that way.
Upon exiting the car, they went directly to the commander in charge of the scene and introduced themselves. “I’m Deputy US Marshal Jonas Quinn and this is my partner, Deputy US Marshal Madison James.”
“Special Agent Dean Osborne with the FBI.” The man shook their hands, then tugged on his tie. “I was just notified that you were on your way and that you have a connection to the suspects inside.”
“At least one of them, we believe. We executed a warrant for him this morning. Unfortunately he wasn’t there, but we did interview his ex-girlfriend.”
“Anything you know is more than what I have to go on. Witnesses outside the bank said that at least three shots have already been fired, but we don’t have enough of a visual to see what’s going on inside. We assume they must have everyone on the ground.” He hollered at a uniformed officer to help hold back the growing number of spectators now crowded against the yellow tape. “Sorry. What can you tell me?”
“For starters, they always have a fourth man,” Jonas said. “A driver.”
“I’ve already got Seattle PD searching the area, though without the IDs of our suspects, it isn’t going to be easy.”
Jonas nodded, then asked for the man’s binoculars. He zeroed in on the frosted glass windows on one side of the lobby that gave them a limited view of the situation. The agent was right. It was impossible to get a full picture of what was going on inside.
“How many hostages?” Madison asked.
“We’re estimating between fifteen and twenty customers and five bank employees from a witness who left right before they locked the front doors.”
“What about interior camera footage?” Madison asked.
Osborne shook his head. “That was the first thing they took out. They knew exactly what to do.”
“They plan everything, down to the last detail,” Jonas said, handing the binoculars back. “Bank layout, time of day, exit strategies, and alternative escape routes.”
“So you think they have a plan to get out of this?” the agent asked.
Jonas nodded. “Definitely.”
They just had to figure out what that plan was.
A phone rang behind them, and a second later another FBI agent stepped out of the mobile command center. “Sir, I’ve got them on the line.”
“It’s about time. I want the two of you to come with me.” Agent Osborne motioned to the van that was set up inside with a long workstation, a conference area, computers, and phones.
Osborne took the phone from the other agent and put it on speaker. “I’m Special Agent Osborne with the FBI. I understand there were some shots fired, and I want to make sure everyone is okay.”
There was a pause on the line and the sound of arguing in the background. “We’re fine. Everyone is fine.”
“I hope that’s true because I’m concerned and want to make sure everyone stays safe. Who am I speaking to?”
“Just . . . just call me . . . Mike.”
“Okay, Mike. I’m hearing some hesitation in your voice. Right now I just want to make sure that everyone inside is okay. Then I’m open to hearing what you need.”
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“The . . . the security guard was shot. He’s hurt pretty bad.”
“Thank you for telling me that, Mike. Can you tell me where he was shot?”
“On his side. There . . . there’s lots of blood.”
Jonas glanced at Madison and frowned. No matter how many scenarios their bank robbers had run through, this had to have been their worst nightmare.
“I need you to listen very carefully to me. You need to press something against his wound right now to stop the bleeding, but he needs medical attention,” Osborne instructed. Jonas was impressed with the steadiness of the agent’s voice. “And if he doesn’t get any medical attention, you need to understand that there’s a good chance he could bleed out in the next few minutes. I know you don’t want that.”
“This isn’t my fault. If he just would have listened to me, no one would have got hurt.” Mike’s voice rose. “No one was supposed to get hurt.”
“I understand, but you need to follow my instructions so he can get help. Can you send him out?”
“I can’t do that. Not unless you guarantee us a way out.”
Osborne’s jaw tensed. “There isn’t time for that, but if you’ll let him go, I’ve got medics on standby who can give him the help he needs, and then I promise you and I can continue our conversation. You’ll still have a room full of hostages, and we can come up with a solution.”
There was a pause. “I don’t know.”
Jonas read the concern on Osborne’s face as he spoke to the man on the other side of the call. They had all been trained in the importance of active listening in the middle of a negotiation, and of the value of gaining a rapport before trying to influence a suspect into a specific course of action. But waiting to get Mike to act could prove deadly in this situation.
“Listen, Mike. I know you have to be scared right now and I don’t blame you,” Osborne continued. “You probably have a job and a family and never imagined finding yourself in this place, but life isn’t always black and white, is it?”
“So now you’re trying to patronize me.”
“Not at all. But I’m concerned about everyone in there. Including you.”