by David Horne
One by one, the detective spoke to the patrons of the bank. Individually, they left the bank, escorted in part by deputies. Then the last of the patrons, the tall man in the expensive suit, spoke at length to the uniformed deputies, and eventually to the detective in the sports jacket, loose black tie that went to the collar of the unbuttoned shirt. If the guy wanted to button the top collar button, he’d have to lose twenty pounds or go back in time five years when he first purchased the button-down shirt.
The patron gave several glances toward Alex. They even made eye contact over the course of time they were in the bank together. Alex knew better than speak to anyone at the bank about the incident. He wanted everyone to have their own stories without the influence of someone who’d overtaken three armed robbers. He had his own story and convoluting the tellers or customers was counterintuitive to the investigation. But his alone time allowed Alex the freedom to make notes in his pocket notebook. It wasn’t leather-bound, but he had a strong ink pen to use on the generic pages. He used up half the journal to help when he filed the report.
“You’re the hero.” It was the first statement from the detective directed at Alex. He waited to respond.
“Alexander Harper,” the detective read from the little notepad. He didn’t fill in as many pages as Alex when it came to the incident. He looked directly at Alex then and inhaled deeply through his flared nostrils.
“Security guard with Logistique Security.” His words were slow and precise. One thing Alex picked up from observing the detective was his repetitive questioning from witnesses. Either hard of hearing or a tactic to trip up answers, the detective wanted everyone to repeat their statements.
“I figured,” he commented. Again fingernails crawled against the flesh on the back of his neck, between the collars and cropped gray hair. “Your supervisor is waiting outside with your partner still.”
Alex only nodded. While inexperienced, at least the Stafford Sheriff’s officers were professional enough to know not to contaminate a crime scene more than needed.
“So,” the detective started, pointing over his shoulder with the pen he used for notes, “Mr. Haynes is under the impression that after the incident, you apparently winked at him.” There was a cross between bewilderment and amusement on the detective’s pasty and puffy face.
Alex didn’t respond immediately. Recollection after the adrenaline wore off was relatively mild. He’d experienced enough high-tension events in his life to know when gaps in memory happened because of sensory overload. He just shrugged.
“We’re reviewing the footage. I don’t think we need to hold you here any longer.” Surprisingly for Alex, the detective extended a hand. “Thank you, Mr. Harper.”
Alex took the man’s hand and felt the chubby fingers squeeze his palm. He held fast.
“That was stupid and dangerous, and you could have got everyone killed.” The words came out in a quick stream of whispers.
“You know where to find me,” Alex responded. It wasn’t meant as a threat. But it came out with an edge.
Instead of leaving immediately, Alex rounded the doorway that separated the bank staff from the general public. Propped open during the investigation, Alex sought out Marjorie who he hadn’t seen in the last few hours since the incident.
She fell into Alex’s embrace. “Are you okay?” he asked.
She held him. Face blotchy from crying. She sniffled before answering. “You’re a God damned crazy fool.” Alex felt her warm body trembling. He did his best to console her.
“It’s fine.”
“Are you kidding me?” she snapped. “How can you be so calm?”
But it was impossible for Alex to explain the internalization of the incident. He felt the tremors that manifested in Marjorie. But unlike his lifetime friend, Alex had training that took over when he was danger-close.
“I have to get going.” His words were low enough for the two of them. The other bank employees looked at Alex as if he was a monstrous social leper and if he glanced in their direction, they’d spontaneously grow infectious tumors. So he looked at Marjorie. The curls of her mousy brown hair went limp. The mascara around her chocolate eyes gave up and turned into muddy smudges.
“You saved my life today,” she breathed in his ear before Alex pulled back enough to smile at her.
Without another word, Alex turned from Marjorie. He gave an encouraging nod to her coworkers before they averted their eyes from him, and Alex went out the back door; the same door where he’d entered the building earlier that day.
***
Mark wasn’t in the security vehicle. But his supervisor, a stern woman named Ruby Jenkins stood close to the sheriff detective who’d briefly interviewed Alex after the attempted robbery. On his way to meet with the woman, Alex caught movement from the front of the bank. The striking man in the classy business suit who’d sustained an assault by the third robber, made eye contact with Alex. A sleek black Lexus was waiting for him in the parking lot.
A crowd of spectators and media crews gathered around the bank, held back by the Sheriff’s yellow tape. Alex turned from the media cameras. But one last look at the man he’d saved and given a playful gesture that Alex knew was wrong, actually winked before slipping into the passenger seat of the luxury sedan. Alex had more notoriety above what he’d accomplished in under two minutes within the bank, and that simple exchange was worth the whole wasted day.
“Thank you, detective,” Ruby said as Alex sidled closer to his supervisor. The detective nodded to Alex as he moved back into the bank through the rear entrance. Alex stood to wait for the inevitable from his boss.
She wore the customary uniform. The black pressed polyester slacks, long sleeve matching button-down shirt. The security uniform badge was nothing more than a canvas patch instead of metal. Security officers had a choice between pullover golf shirts with the Logistique Security logo or the traditional uniform top. Mark wore the generic pullover golf shirt. It was usually wrinkled and untucked. But Alex understood the presence of the outfit wasn’t just a mantel, it was a motto that he followed and felt comfortable wearing.
“You understand the job description of your post?” Ruby asked as she stormed away from Alex. Expected to follow his supervisor, he immediately fell into step with her. But he had a foot height over her and longer legs. If he wanted to walk with the purpose Ruby had marching toward the SUV with the security logo on the doors, Alex could do it in half the steps it took for two of hers. “You made a real mess of this day.”
He waited to speak. She had rank and privilege. That meant if Ruby asked rhetorical questions, he had to wait until she finished ranting before giving a solid answer. “This is a real shit show,” she went on.
He waited outside the passenger side of the SUV for Ruby to climb into the driver seat. The security truck Mark drove to the bank was loaded on a tow truck while Alex watched. He got into the SUV and waited for Ruby to stop swearing once she felt her words were protected from the outside by the surrounding steel of the vehicle.
“What’s your duty, Harper?”
“You mean besides patrolling property, transporting currency, and monitoring surveillance equipment?”
“I think you left one out.” Ruby had a heavy foot on the accelerator. The SUV broke through an opening in the traffic but didn’t make it very far in the wedge of vehicles pressing forward through the intersection light not far from the bank. “You’re not in the military anymore, Harper.” Her words slipped through her clenched teeth.
Instead of turning toward the Interstate, Ruby drove north on Route 1, heading toward the main office on the north side of Garrisonville. The Stafford County community was just shy of Quantico. And like most of the businesses around the Marine Corps base, the security company had a reputation of dignity and respect. That time of night, traffic north on Route 1 wasn’t as crowded as 95 but would take a little longer. Alex suspected Ruby chose the path because it forced him to stay with her.
“Are makin
g a veiled notion about the ‘obtaining help by sounding alarms’ rule?” he asked pointedly. Quickly his hand gripped the handhold by his head as Ruby made a poor calculation driving too close to the pick-up truck ahead of her and had to dart into the other lane, cutting off the car beside them.
“Are you joking right now?” she asked the shrill of her voice painfully loud. “Is that how you deal with this? Are you making jokes?”
Before he could hold back, Alex replied, “It was a rough day, I thought a little humor was good for the soul.”
Ruby’s face matched her name after the comment. While she directed her fury at Alex for doing his job, he understood it was a more out of panic that she acted irrationally. And it was just something that she needed to use, her command over Alex by rank, to offset her real concerns.
***
Back at the office, Alex arrived in the building to resounding applause. It only added to the frustration that strained Ruby as he followed her through the hallway among his coworkers. Security was boring, now everyone around Alex had something to talk about at the next Christmas party. For this moment of fame, he was a topic, and Alex knew it burned Ruby to the core.
He had to wait, seated in the small chair on the opposite side of Ruby’s immaculate desk for her to return to the office. The door closed behind him, alone in the office, Alex finally took a quiet and long, deep breath for himself.
He closed his eyes and undid the top buttons on his collar. Ruby returned to the office with a manila file. Alex had experience with data; they usually held records that followed his career. In the five years, he’d been employed with Logistique, that manila file arrived on Ruby’s desk twice before.
Each time was a matter of infractions to job security. But Alex only saw the safety of others as a reason to go beyond to make sure people and property were safe.
“Do you remember the last time you came in here?” she started. By the manner of her speech, Alex surmised that Ruby had rehearsed a little of the dialogue outside the office. “We had a conversation about how to handle trespassers at the worksite.”
“I remember.” Alex squared his shoulders and sat up straight. It forced Ruby to look at him at an angle that was slightly above her. Even at a distance on the other side of the desk, he was almost a foot taller. “And I followed procedures.”
She nodded, watching the paperwork in front of her instead of Alex’s face. “You apprehended the two youths and held them for the police.”
“They were carrying controlled substances and using meth in an onsite smoking shack. What was I supposed to do, let them go?”
Ruby stopped shuffling papers and neatly folded her hands on the desk. She smiled. “Yes, that’s what you were supposed to do. Instead, you put on of the two kids in the hospital.”
“That’s embellishing,” Alex added and immediately regretted it.
“You broke his wrist.”
“It was a mild fracture from the armbar.”
“You pulled on the girl’s hair.”
“She was small and wiry and had a lot of hair to hold onto.”
“But your job is simple. It’s straightforward. Every time we set you up in a position, you find a way to make things happen around you that are completely compromising to this company.”
Alex twisted his lips into a half smile and raised one eyebrow. “That’s a little unfair. That’s suggesting I’m a magnet to trouble.”
“Why did you get reprimanded the first time?” she stammered. Again her face flared ruby red, and Alex watched her trying to keep from losing composure completely. Inside, the little piece of humor Alex clung to in order to make normal the day of insanity, he wanted to know how far he could needle Ruby before she started frothing at the mouth.
“I was in the right to eject that man from the party.”
“He was the Woodbridge mayor’s son.”
“He was drunk and causing a disturbance, and he’d already mistreated his girlfriend.”
Ruby didn’t speak right away. Alex watched as the blood drained from her face. She’d learned some breathing tactics that helped security officers to deflect anger when dealing with hostile people. “Now we’re here.”
“I did exactly what any security officer would do.”
To respond Ruby shook her head. “You’re to observe and report. That’s it, that’s all.”
“Look, Ruby, I know if you faced the same situation, you’d have done exactly what I did.”
“You’re not going to butter me up, Harper. This is a disciplinary action. This is your third violation of company protocol. You can call it whatever you like, but there’s only one viable solution to your constant disregard to Logistique standard operating procedures.”
And it was at that moment Alex felt he’d made a choice that made his home life, with copulating roommates, timid in comparison to what came next.
Chapter Four
On a rare occurrence, Alex had the house to himself. Gary and Angelica were gone. He didn’t want to know where and he hoped it was for the rest of the night. After eight and maybe they planned to spend the night at Angelica’s apartment. If she still paid rent somewhere else.
Before Alex took a shower, he cleaned up the living room of dirty dishes and empty beer bottles the roommates left on the coffee and end tables. When the doorbell sounded, Alex pressed his hand against the black leather weaved basket on his hip. But the holster was empty. He checked the eyehole before opening the door.
There stood Marjorie on the porch wearing her bank suit. She hefted a bottle in each hand by the neck. “I’m not sure what’s best for after an attempted bank robbery, red or white wine.”
Alex stepped back as she slipped inside and stepped out of her heels. “I think I want something harder than both.” He gave her a tilted head and asked, “Aren’t you working tomorrow?”
“They’re closing the branch for internal investigations. I had a choice of going to another branch, but I have some vacation time.” Marjorie made herself home, shed the light sports jacket, draped it over a dining room chair and continued into the kitchen. “I thought this was a good time to use it.”
“Great,” Alex agreed. He shed the uniform shirt and the tank top underneath. He caught Marjorie watching him.
“Why do you have to be gay?” she asked with a sigh.
He smiled at her. “I don’t think it’s that simple. Can’t we be best friends and leave out the other complications.”
“That’s perfect.” After she popped open the refrigerator, Marjorie folded to peer inside. “You have any soda for that whiskey you pulled out?” she asked from inside the box.
“There might be some of Angelica’s cola in the bottle drawer.”
“Found it.” Marjorie slammed the door closed. She grabbed two clean glasses from the cupboard and split the can between the two glasses. She filled the rest of the space inside the glass with thick whiskey. She took a sip. “Oh my,” she breathed. “Well, I guess I don’t have to ask about Angelica still living here now.” She peered around the dining area.
The open kitchen gave way to the dining room and living room. The house had an arched ceiling and a stairway that led to a hallway loft and the other rooms of the house. Marjorie saw peppering of feminine items, candles Alex didn’t have before, a sweater over the back of the couch, and high heel shoes that Marjorie wandered over to by the entertainment center.
She picked up the shoe and gazed at it admiringly. “She’s got great taste in shoes.” Dropping the heel, Marjorie wiped her hand and carried the glass to the couch and dropped into the cushions. “What time you going to work tomorrow?”
“That’s a good question.” Alex retrieved the glass of whiskey and cola Marjorie poured for him and added ice cubes to the glass, overflowing the contents. He took a sip before wiping the glass and countertop with a dishcloth and joining Marjorie on the couch in the living room. “I might not have a job to go back to.” He put his feet on the coffee table after he sat down next to her.
Staring at him in shock, Marjorie said, “Let me guess, that high and mighty little bitch reprimanded you for doing your job.”
Alex held up his index figure. “Correction, I was reprimanded for not doing my job.”
“So she just expected you to just run for the hills and let all of us end up on the news as a hostage situation that went wrong?” Marjorie took a deep pull on the contents in the glass and shook her head. “If it weren’t for you, we’d probably still be in that bank waiting for those assholes to think up demands.”
He just nodded. Marjorie pressed her head against Alex’s shoulder. “You’re a hero, and she’s just jealous.”
“Well, I’ll agree with half your statement.”
“Alex, what you did was incredibly brave.”
“It was brash and incredibly stupid. People’s lives were at stake, and all I did was get damned lucky.”
“You did more than that. Do you know who was there today?”
“Besides three hygienically challenged would be bank robbers?”
“Connor Haynes was there,” Marjorie announced a revelation.
“Am I supposed to know who that is?”
“You don’t know Connor Haynes? He’s one of the richest men in the county. He’s in clean energy and waste management.”
“So your shit is his bread and butter?”
Ignoring Alex’s quip, Marjorie continued. “He’s the guy you saved when that jerk knocked him down.”
“Oh,” Alex said quietly.
“What’s the matter?”
“Well, on top of likely losing my job, I may or may not have winked at him today after it was all over.”
She squinted at Alex and shook her head. “That’s so you.”
“It was as impulsive as what I did today.”
“You saved my life, my friends and coworkers’ lives. They’re all grateful to you.”
Alex took a few healthy swallows of the mixed drink and felt the burn in his throat before he said, “I shouldn’t have done it.”