Morrow's Horizon (The Morrow Women Series Book 1)

by Sierra Kummings

  The hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention while she passed the vacant car slowly. Though its engine idled, the owner—tall, fortyish, roughly two hundred and fifty pounds—lurked by the bank’s windows. Once he saw her, instead of getting back in his car, he walked around the side of the building, avoiding her gaze.

  Premonition had her stepping on the gas.

  The third robber still remained at large.

  Oh, stop being ridiculous. Drive past and wait around the corner. It’d been a month. No way would the guy have stayed in the area that long.

  Without waiting to see if the man outside would leave, she drove through the lot toward the back entrance, only parking at the curb once she’d turned the corner. Regardless of it making her feel ridiculous, Marc had told them to trust their gut.

  She quickly shot Yolanda a text.

  Sara: There’s a man lurking outside. I’m around the corner. Text when you’re a minute out. Don’t go in alone.

  While she waited, she searched on her phone for the email with the robber’s photo. The picture was grainy, but the description attached reported a guy at least fifty pounds lighter and twenty years younger. Get a grip, Sara. State and federal law enforcement still hunted the one guy not in custody. Only an idiot wouldn’t have moved on by now. The ring leader didn’t have over a dozen robberies under his belt by being stupid.

  Still, Sara wasn’t willing to be stupid either. She had Marc’s number programmed in her phone. It wouldn’t hurt to give the head of security a call.

  Or would it?

  If she called Marc, she’d most definitely get a follow-up call from Jacob.

  What would she say to him? What if he saw it as nothing but a pathetic attempt to talk to him?

  Sara checked the time then put her phone down, too full of pride to find out. Yolanda would be at the branch any minute now. If the guy was still there when she showed up, they’d do what needed to be done. If not…

  Her phone vibrated an incoming message.

  Yolanda: Be there in two.

  See? Nothing to worry about.

  Yet worry she did.

  Sara’s fingers tapped a nervous beat on the steering wheel.

  Should she let go of her pride and call?

  She put down her phone again.

  Her and Jacob’s first conversation since everything had gone south should be because he wanted to talk to her, not because she forced his hand. Besides, what robber announced his presence by peering through windows in broad daylight? Not anyone who expected to get away with it, that was for sure.

  So where were Christopher’s cowardice taunts now? Her overreaction clearly deserved, at minimum, a few jabs.

  In the answering silence, Sara tried to force a laugh, but it did nothing to calm her nerves.

  41

  Jacob drove in silence for a good fifteen minutes before casting a sideways glance at his phone. Not for the first time, he wished he hadn’t fucked things up so completely with Sara. His apology burned the back of his throat, wanting to be freed. Now.

  But he needed to do it in person.

  His drive up the Pacific Coast Highway hadn’t taught him anything he hadn’t known the second he’d left Mama’s house—or hell, the second he’d watched Sara walk away. He didn’t need to go to therapy to figure that out. She’d shown him who she was from the first moment he’d seen her.

  He loved her. He could say it now without a doubt in his mind or heart. But she deserved to hear it in person. He needed to say it in person, where he could watch the waterfall of colors in her eyes and see for himself that all wasn’t lost.

  He didn’t know if he could give her forever yet, but he damned sure knew he wanted to try.

  If she’d have him.

  Jacob pressed on the gas, willing his ancient jeep to go faster. She’d be at work in a few hours. He had all of one to get to her and explain himself, if he wanted to have time to do it right.

  Damn, but he wanted to do things right.

  42

  Sara nosed her car around the main entrance for the second time that morning.

  Thankfully, the parking lot now stood empty.

  See? Nothing to worry about.

  Still, tension only left her after Yolanda pulled up and gave a quick tap to her horn.

  Neither of them delayed hurrying inside.

  “Sorry for being scared over nothing.” Sara relocked the branch doors on shaky legs as soon as they crossed the threshold. Wearing her favorite boots might have matched her celebratory mood, but they weren’t the smartest accessory if she had to make a run for it.

  “No apologies needed. Seriously. I’d rather you be cautious than us held at gunpoint.” Yolanda punched in her alarm code before jutting out her hip saucily. “I have a hot date this evening I’d hate to miss out on.”

  “Yeah? Which Matthew McConaughey movie are you watching tonight?” The smile Sara sent Yolanda over her shoulder turned to a yelp as she stumbled. “Oh, fuck you, boots!” Once again, they’d proven that Sara didn’t need to be running for her life to slip on the shiny floor.

  Sara readjusted her blouse after regaining her footing, but her coworker’s snort didn’t help her ego. “Hey, at least I didn’t fall down.”

  “There is that.”

  It was a small comfort, though, when her thigh burned as if she’d pulled a muscle. So the day’s going to be like that, then?

  No, it wouldn’t. Sara didn’t have time for an attitude like that anymore. The day would be whatever she made it, just like what last night had turned into once she’d given each of Ray’s projects the jump-start they’d needed.

  Sara limped over the rest of the way to her desk, then powered up her computer. After doing the same with Bel’s, she pitched her voice for Yolanda to hear through the open door off to the right of the teller line. “At least I didn’t call security.” Her falling flat on her face would have been nothing compared to the mortification she’d feel if she had to talk to Marc. She hadn’t seen the man since that night at the karaoke bar, and she’d love it if she never had to see him again after that.

  Yolanda’s loud cackle echoed from inside the vault before she stepped behind the teller line. “Does it matter? You know we’re still going to call you Rosarita all day today, right?”

  Riiiiiight. The name they’d made up to alert each other of a robbery in progress. Even though Sara probably deserved them joking about her because of her overactive imagination, she stuck her tongue out at her coworker, happy that they’d all learned to have fun at the job again. Still, though… Sara called upon her sternest voice, managing to only crack a hint of a smile as she said, “You wouldn’t dare. I am still your boss, you know.” For a little while longer, at least.

  “Good morning, Mr. Shriver. What brings you in again this week?” Sara kept her smile in place as she opened the door for their first customer. Man, was he one person she wouldn’t miss seeing when she said goodbye to this position.

  Unaware of her inner glee, Mr. Shriver stalked past her. “What do you think brings me in here? Another damn bank error, what else?” His clipped pace toward the teller line never slowed as he muttered about employee stupidity.

  RJ waved her off when she went to follow, and she gave him a grateful nod.

  She’d have to mention to Harrison that he’d make a nice replacement for her when the time came. He and Yolanda had really stepped up to the plate since she’d had to take so much time off.

  Sara held open the inner lobby door for the rest of the waiting customers. A lot more than usual greeted her for an off-Friday morning. One after another they said their hello then walked past her to the teller line, and since no day was complete without the dynamic duo, as part of the entourage, Mrs. Williams’ boys ran into the entryway, whirls of energy, sliding their sticky fingers down the lower portion of the glass paneling.

  The little hellions dissolved into a fit of giggles at her stern look.

  Though there was little point in cleaning
until they left, Sara followed their wriggling bodies inside for cleaning supplies. This might prove to be her only chance to rid the doors of their fingerprints if the pace of the day kept up the way it was starting. To the kids’ delight, she made faces at them before she veered off to the supply closet. When she came back out, she gave a conspiratorial wink to their mother. The boys were a handful, but they never failed to entertain.

  Thankfully, Harrison wasn’t there to glare at them. He, Bel, and four of their tellers didn’t come in until noon.

  Sara kept watch through the lobby doors for any customers who might make their way over to her station. Until Bel showed up, not only was she the assistant manager, she was the only sales staff too. So hurry it up then. Sara bent to her task, spraying the glass and wiping it down with paper towels. When she was almost finished, a breeze behind her from the opening front door ruffled her hair. “Good morn—”

  “Take me into the vault.”

  The whisper breathed against the back of her neck as Sara stood, and the glass cleaner fell from her hand.

  The missing robber.

  Or was it the guy from earlier?

  His hard grip on her arm didn’t allow her to turn around and find out. As she bent to retrieve the dropped bottle, her pulse beat a rhythm so loud in her ear, she almost missed his next command.

  “Don’t pick it up. Face forward and open the door.”

  Despite his gruff command, everything in her screamed to disobey. Her staff was inside. Mrs. Williams’ boys.

  “Open the door!”

  His hiss should have made her move, but doubts kept her hand frozen on the handle. They’d used a gun at Sand’s. And the three assailants had locked everyone inside. Since no weapon had been drawn yet, and there was only one man behind her, could BCF’s set of double doors here work to Sara’s advantage? Could she push him outside before they went further? She stepped back into him to do just that—and something hard and unyielding dug into her spine.

  “Try that again, and I use this.”

  Sara knew what it was without looking. The cool barrel of the gun chilled her even through her blouse.

  Fear kept her immobile. Once she crossed that threshold, the boys would freak. There was no way they’d understand. And then what would the robbers do?

  Sara should’ve called Marc. She should’ve listened to her gut. If anyone got hurt, it’d be all her fault.

  Follow his orders, sis. You guys have a plan. Remember that. You’re all prepared. You’ll get through this. Just do as he says.

  Christopher’s voice steadied her. She could do it. She could get the guy in and out, unless he expected Hollywood miracles where cash lay free for the taking. “I do-don’t have keys to the main vault.” Each employee only had access to a limited amount of funds except for the teller coordinator, who happened to be one of their staff not coming in until noon. Sara had the backup box as assistant manager, but that carried less than fifty thousand in it, a good portion of which was in change.

  “I didn’t ask for you to talk! Do what I say and no one gets hurt.”

  As much as Sara wanted to believe him, what guarantee did she have that he meant it? The weapon he yielded spoke volumes to the contrary.

  Her heart rate spiked again.

  Stay calm. Do as he says. Get him in and get him out quickly.

  But what would happen once they were alone in the vault and the guy realized she hadn’t been lying? “I to-told you. I only have mine—”

  “Move it! If you alert anyone, they die.”

  “D-die?” Oh, good God. See! She’d been right to worry. Though “right” didn’t feel good at the moment. She pushed Christopher’s voice from her head. She needed to think clearly. She needed to think on her own. “I can’t take you into the vault without everyone knowing. It’s behind the teller line.” Sand’s setup couldn’t have been much different, not to mention all the other banks he’d robbed. Why hadn’t this guy known that?

  Brute force knocked her forward yet still no demand came for her to lock the doors.

  Something didn’t feel right. This guy didn’t seem like a pro.

  That meant Sara either had a chance to save everyone, or no chance at all. “Please listen to me. I’ll give you all the money I have, but I don’t want anyone to die. As soon as we go back to the vault, everyone will know we’re being robbed. Let me help you do this quietly.”

  Jagged fingernails dug into Sara’s arm as the man shoved her stubborn feet forward. She stumbled through the doorway, her boots hindering her progress, hot breath and steady steps close behind her.

  “Act natural.”

  The gritted command almost had her stopping on principal. How was she supposed to act natural with him up her ass? If he’d only listen to her, he’d realize their whole charade would end in seconds anyway. And then what? Would he shoot everyone?

  Sara’s entire body shook at the thought. Yet “act natural” she did when RJ glanced her direction from where he helped behind the teller line. She plastered on a smile she hoped fooled him and pointed toward her damning boots. His answering grin assured her he was none the wiser. Good! For the moment, at least. But she still needed to act fast.

  The phone rang, providing an instant opportunity to slow things down and hopefully give her a chance to seek help. If she could get close enough to the emergency call button under her desk… Sara rushed forward, only to be slowed by a yank on her blouse. Instead of letting it deter her, she infused complacency in her voice. “If you want me to act normal, then you need to let me answer that. Everyone else is busy. If I don’t get it, my coworkers will suspect something’s wrong.”

  As if on cue, Mr. Shriver escalated at RJ’s window. When RJ glanced at her again nodding to the phone, he confirmed what Sara had said.

  “Do it.” The guy nudged her forward, staying in position behind her.

  Well at least he utilized some intelligence.

  Sara vowed to use that to her advantage. Having him that close meant she couldn’t press the emergency button, but she still might have an opportunity to notify the others without him knowing. If she could get a few of them out to safety, she’d feel better at pushing him to do things her way, especially if the phone call stalled things long enough for Mrs. Williams and her boys to leave.

  Sara snatched the phone before it went to the call center while inching her hand to her breast and palming her name tag. “Good morning.” After tossing it under her desk, Sara raised her voice to carry across the lobby. “Thank you for calling BCF Bank and Trust. This is Rosarita, how can I help you?”

  Yolanda smiled in Sara’s direction, but kept busy at the teller line while directing Naomi to go to the back for more supplies once she finished with her customer.

  Fuck! Based on their joke that morning, Sara had hoped Yolanda would understand. Her coworker’s normality suggested she hadn’t.

  Left with no other choice, Sara gripped the phone and prayed for a miracle. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you, sir. How can, how can I help you?”

  “Sara?”

  Jacob? Thank you fucking Jesus!

  “I’m so glad I got you. I stopped by your apartment but you weren’t there.”

  I love you! Sara tamped down the urge to scream that and her apology to Jacob while the gun dug harder into her back. Think, Sara! “Management’s in a meeting. Can I help you?”

  Sara hoped he understood, despite her not having alerted security, and figured things out because she’d run out of time. The robber’s hand snaked out from behind her and disconnected the call.

  43

  Sara’s voice tempted from the jeep’s speakers, washing over him and settling his nerves, all a split second before she hung up.

  Jacob had expected to have to work for things. He hadn’t expected to be shut down so completely. Or quickly.

  He hit the steering wheel in frustration. Traffic in his lane stood still as cars further ahead tried to merge from two lanes into one. The entire drive had been mad
e without the common southern California stop-and-go. To have it kick in five minutes away from his destination had him itching to ditch his vehicle and run the rest of the way.

  He shouldn’t even be attempting to see her at the branch, but he hadn’t been able to stop himself. Just like in the beginning, he was drawn to her. How could he wait another hour, let alone eight?

  “When you find the right woman, it’s like magic.” Private Moorhouse’s smiling face drifted in Jacob’s field of vision.

  That man had loved his wife more than life itself. He’d said he’d signed up for the Marines right after he’d met her because he couldn’t imagine living in a world without her in it and he’d do anything he could to protect her.

  Jacob’s chest tightened. What a cabrón the man had been. Who signed up for war and left the woman he loved?

  A man who’d still be alive today if not for Jacob, that’s who. How could he blame Moorhouse for his own mistakes? His comrade would’ve never died in the desert…

  Jacob hit the steering wheel again. No, dammit! He couldn’t risk those thoughts now. He needed to plan. Sara hadn’t even listened to him before she’d hung up. Mama had told him he’d screwed things, but he hadn’t thought he’d gone past the point of no return.

  Looking for a hint of softening, Jacob replayed Sara’s words, desperate for a sign things weren’t as hopeless as they’d seemed, but with only four sentences, that didn’t leave him much to go on.

  Thank you for calling BCF Bank and Trust. This is Rosarita, how can I help you? ...

  Why the switch of her name to that of Moorhouse’s wife? Had she researched his service record like Elise and found out about his men?

  No, that didn’t make sense. None of it made sense. Sara wasn’t like Elise. She wouldn’t taunt him.

  Once again Jacob forced those thoughts aside. If Sara came back to him, he’d tell her the truth of his past, but that’d never happen if he didn’t figure out a way to make her listen.