by Lyn Stone
"Okay, okay!" he interrupted, struggling with his temper. A moment later he had his palms out in a gesture of surrender. "Let's let it go. It's over and we're both alive. Just calm down, all right?"
"I'm calm as a cucumber, Slick. You're the one going ape. Now, why don't you do something constructive like get the hell out of my way?"
His intense gaze remained on hers as his breathing evened out. He jerked one hand toward the dead man. "Be my guest, then. Check the body while I notify the police."
"Fine," she snapped. "Do that."
Ignoring him, Dani crouched beside the dead man and felt his carotid for a pulse. Then she saw why he said it wasn't necessary. There was a bullet hole right between the eyes, which were open and already glazing over. Plus, he had a massive exit wound at the top of his head.
If she hadn't been so much shorter, she would have seen it when she'd jumped him. With that thought, she suddenly realized her hands were gummy. She examined them and began to worry about contamination from the blood.
"Bathroom's that way. Better go wash that off," Michaels said, pointing. He had gone around to the other side of his desk and stood waiting with the phone to his ear.
His perfect features held an expression of worry now. New frown lines forming. Probably his first serious problem, she thought. Men who looked the way he did must have a really easy skate through life. A hiccup like this was enough to throw him off polite behavior.
Dani felt bad about their heated exchange. Adrenaline could do weird tricks with a person's attitude. Unfortunately, it seemed to have affected them both the same way. She would need to apologize later.
In the meantime, she retrieved her purse from the lobby floor, hurried to the restroom where she scrubbed off the blood. Thankfully, she had no scratches to worry about. Her right temple felt completely numb where the pistol had been jammed against it, though that was probably due to swelling from the blow she took. Her hip hurt where she had crunched it against the wall and her arm ached a little. Otherwise, she was okay.
Carol was going to kill her. It seemed every time Dani got within a mile of her sister, trouble exploded. Last visit, Bud's new car had been stolen out of their driveway and found burned to a crisp over in the next county. Dani, a brand-new agent working for the Bureau then, had felt obliged to hunt down the guys who took it and bust up the car-theft ring. Bad call, jurisdictionally, she remembered. This time, she'd stay out of it and let the locals do their worst.
Even when she and her sister were growing up, Dani had been a trouble magnet. She was invariably swept up in the middle of whatever conflict developed anywhere near her, mostly due to her acting on her dratted premonitions. Maybe she had cursed them once too often. Today her Gypsy mother's gift of foresight had all but failed.
Or had it? Maybe it had taken a different form with that pressing need to get out of the house on a day when sane people stayed inside. And that sudden notion of opening an account for the baby had struck her like a hammer just after breakfast. Had that foresight guided her here to stop the robbery?
Maybe she shouldn't have come to Ellerton in the first place, but how could she stay away when Carol had a brand-new baby, Dani's very first nephew? It wasn't as if she was likely to have any children of her own any time soon, maybe ever.
Once again, she reminded herself why she had no business envying her sister the adorable baby, devoted hubby and the white picket fence. Mommies weren't supposed to carry weapons and go looking for danger, like she did for a living. Like she enjoyed doing. It was not a life to be shared with innocents.
But what if she hadn't come? Ben Michaels would probably be dead right now, as well as whomever else the robber would have held hostage instead of her.
She glanced in the mirror again, examined the new bruise on her head and pulled some of her bangs down to cover it. Out of sight, out of mind: one of those sayings that didn't quite work in this case. Later, she'd cover it with makeup, but it would still ache like crazy.
To distract herself, she thought about Michaels as she made herself presentable. It took a certain kind of person to settle down in Smallville and be content. Someone like her sister and Bud, her brother-in-law. And this Benjamin Michaels, big bad bank manager. He had been unexpectedly cool under fire.
The thought made her wrinkle her nose. Hero material, sucked into life as a bean counter. How the devil had that happened? She pushed away from the sink and went back outside. Maybe she would ask him.
He stood near the front door, waiting for the police. From some back office, probably the employees' lounge, she could hear the blond teller weeping dramatically and the other guy mumbling.
She crossed the lobby to Michaels. "So, could you reverse the transfer and get the money back?"
"No. I���" Sirens and the screech of tires interrupted. The police hadn't had far to come. You could span the whole town in about five minutes.
The small bank filled with people. Three uniforms, six emergency personnel and a couple of plainclothes carrying satchels, probably doctors or crime scene techs. Who would guess there were this many people in Ellerton to respond to a call like this? It was comforting to see, given that her sister and her family lived here.
A pleasant-looking, heavyset man in a cheap suit entered and approached them. He removed his hat, revealing a silvery crew cut and a tan line on his high forehead. His bright blue eyes snapped with energy. She recognized him immediately and cringed.
"Hey, Ben," the police chief said, glancing in the direction of the office where the paramedics were hovering. "Everybody okay?"
"Everybody but him," Michaels said, gesturing idly toward the body.
The chief looked at her, head cocked to one side. "Miss, I'm Chief Talbert with the Ellerton police." He cleared his throat and squinted. "Don't I know you?"
Dani shrugged and tried to look innocent.
The chief's eyes narrowed farther. "I need to interview y'all separately. Ben, you want to scram? I know you got things you need to do, calls to make and so forth, and we can talk later."
"I do at that." Turning to her, he said, "I'll see you later. I'd like to speak with you again before you go."
Dani nodded. His low-timbre voice had a newscaster quality to it, softened by a distinct Virginia accent. Nice, she thought. Exceptionally nice, when he wasn't cussing or threatening. That tone matched his polished appearance.
Amazing, how unruffled he looked now. The only evidence of the altercation were his skinned knuckles and minute spatters of blood on his shirt. The man obviously had a tough side, one he masked well. Dani consciously made note of the fact that it was a really good-looking mask. No wrinkles, not even any laugh lines. Smooth. Almost mannequin smooth. She wondered if he was vain enough to be into Botox.
Her budding fascination must have shown as her gaze followed him, because the chief cleared his throat yet again, this time to get her attention.
Dani ignored him for another few seconds as she watched Michaels head for the other unoccupied office. She liked the way he moved, how he led with his left, leaned forward and swung one arm in a John Wayne kind of stride. But the Duke on his best day had never looked that good. She allowed herself a silent little whew before she looked away.
"Okay, here you go." She reached into her pocket, fished out her badge folder and handed it over.
The chief took it and examined it closely. "Uh-huh. So you're a special agent, division of Homeland Security." His smile looked wary. "Wait a minute. Weren't you with the FBI?" She saw recognition dawn. "I remember you now. Whatcha doing here in Ellerton this time, Ms. Sweet?"
"On vacation." Again, she thought, but didn't add the word. "Visiting my sister, Carol Whitman."
Surprisingly, his smile turned friendly. "She and Bud had the baby yet?"
"A boy." Dani went on to explain why she was at the bank and gave him the details of what had happened. Then, just to be polite, she added, "Can I be of help other than as a witness? If I can assist in the investigation i
n any way..."
He smirked a little, obviously recalling the last time their paths had crossed and how she had stolen his thunder. "No thanks, I think we can handle this one. So you're with the COMPASS outfit now? We got some directives down a couple months ago about cooperation and interaction and such. Part of that special team, Sextant, aren't you? Counterterrorism?"
"Yes, we're an adjunct to Sextant." She smiled. "Look, Chief, could you maybe keep my name out of things? I'd consider it a big favor. We like to keep a low profile."
He nodded. "Sure thing. Okay, that about does it. Thanks."
Dani followed him over to the door of the office where the EMTs were bagging the body.
"Well, Ben took care of him." He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "Pretty cut-and-dried, I guess. Bank job gone bad. I need to go question Ben and the others. Maybe you should stick around until I'm finished, in case I come up with any more questions. You mind?"
"Glad to," she replied, in no great hurry to face her disapproving sister with the news of her latest adventure.
A little while later, Ben Michaels returned to the lobby. He managed a more pleasant expression than any he had shown before. She registered again how perfect he looked. Short dark hair expertly cut. Nice, smoothly arched brows. Steely gray eyes rimmed with long black lashes. Lips that really made her pause to stare. Nose every plastic surgeon must aim to duplicate. Cheekbones that hinted at Native American genes beneath his pale skin. Except for a few hairline scars, nothing marred the mask. How benign he looked now. Great camouflage. She almost said so out loud.
"I shouldn't have popped off at you the way I did," he said. Perfect Southern gent routine, smooth as good cane syrup. One would never guess he had a pop-off in him.
"Not a problem," she said, sort of aping his accent, simply because she liked it. Her natural Midwestern clip seemed a little blunt by comparison. "Guess I did the same thing. We were both pretty wound up."
He either didn't notice or ignored her Scarlett O'Hara impression as he nodded and inhaled deeply, releasing it slowly before speaking again. "Could I talk with you in private about what happened?"
Well, that raised her brows. "What for?"
"You're Homeland Security and I have a possible threat to discuss."
"Does it have to do with the robbery?"
He nodded. Dani decided to humor him. He had been through a lot this morning. He would naturally blow this all out of proportion���she had seen it many times. A thief, obviously of foreign extraction, had come in to rob the bank, to direct the funds out of the U.S. Had to be an international plot, right? Small towns were a refuge for foreign professionals. Her sister's obstetrician was from India. All the convenience stores were run by recent immigrants, as were many of the mom-and-pop motels. This guy looked like a well-to-do businessman in his expensive topcoat and tasteful tie. Some immigrants were office workers, some blue collar, and, yes, some were thieves. But not all of them were linked to international terrorism.
Amid these doubting thoughts she became very aware of Ben Michaels's hand on her elbow, guiding her to one of the empty offices even before she had noticed. At least he wasn't causing any premonitions of danger. She smiled at the thought.
"Okay, Mr. Michaels, explain this potential threat," she said in her most authoritative tone.
"Please, make yourself comfortable." He gestured for her to sit in one of the wing-backed chairs that flanked the desk. Then he closed the door and sat across from her in the matching chair. Through the plate glass that separated the space from the lobby, Dani could see the beehive of activity as the locals went about their investigation.
She waited for him to begin. He searched her face, assessed it, as if trying to determine something about her.
She studied his, too, along with his body language and general demeanor, all of which signified his great concern, but also evident was his confidence to deal with whatever may trouble him. He certainly had done all right so far today, no question about that.
He seemed to reach a decision. "We might have a terrorist funding situation going on here that your people should investigate. At least you can pass it on to the agency that handles such things to see if I could be right."
"Even foreign nationals commit regular crimes, Mr. Michaels. They're not all sleeper agents committed to a holy war. And for all we know right now, this guy's a U.S. citizen, born and bred. Bank robberies are not in my bailiwick."
He leaned forward, his hands clasped between his knees and his penetrating gray gaze holding hers. "I realize that, Ms. Sweet, but this wasn't your run-of-the-mill robbery," he said, stating the obvious. "I was forced to dump three million from legitimate accounts here into the bank in the Caymans. It was supposed to appear as if I had done it. Embezzlement."
"I got that," she said wryly, inclining her head in agreement. "Are you saying this type of robbery has never happened before in the annals of bank heists?"
"Cute. What I'm saying is that these funds may have been taken from the accounts of individuals who share a common cause. Individuals who might not mind their accounts being victimized."
"Say it straight-out if you don't mind. What's the deal?"
"I said it already. Could be terrorist financing."
Dani cocked her head and stared at him. "What are the chances of that? A terrorist stumbles in here and inadvertently takes an intel agent hostage?"
He shrugged again. "That's the reason I asked why you were here."
"Okay, exactly what do you think is going on? Paint me a scenario."
"Say he left no witnesses. Then he goes to the back of the counter to the drawers and takes all the cash he can carry and gets away. This would have been considered a straight robbery. Later when the auditors come in, they discover the transfers I've made to this offshore account. I probably would have been blamed for it." His gaze was keen, sharp. "Didn't it seem to you as if he intended for me to take the heat? You remember, when I mentioned the red flags?"
Dani didn't quite buy it. "The time would have been recorded as happening during the robbery," she reminded him.
"Yes, but this audit would happen weeks later. The money trail would end at a Cayman bank and they would never recover the funds."
"The cameras would show you performing the transaction under duress."
He glanced out at the cameras. "We haven't gone digital yet. Easy to remove the evidence with no one alive to stop him. Granted, it doesn't seem like it was a great plan on his part, but he and the money would have disappeared before anyone sorted it out. And if I were missing, I would definitely be suspected of collusion."
"I think your supposition is a stretch, Mr. Michaels," she said, although she privately wondered...Michaels was no alarmist. He seemed cool and collected and had obviously given this a lot of thought.
"I'm not through yet," he stated, his tone flat and unequivocal. "You need to listen to me and have this checked out." He gestured emphatically with his hands as he spoke.
He continued to-lean toward her, his palms flared as his elbows rested on his knees. "The money is insured, so the clients wouldn't have suffered any loss."
"I'm listening," she told him. "Please go on."
He met her gaze, sincerely trying to convince her of his theory. "Today's crime could have played out the way I suggest if we hadn't stopped it. Your basic robbery, then later on, an unrelated incident of embezzlement is discovered. The apparent perpetrator of that, namely me, already dead. Or maybe he would have forced me to go with him, only to kill me later."
Dani leaned back in her chair. "Why your bank?"
"Maybe we have all the right customers. The upshot is that I think the funds I was forced to transfer could have already been earmarked to finance terrorists."
"Three million would only be a drop in the bucket to those groups. Maybe our guy was merely a thief who didn't realize the Cayman banks are not a good place to hide funds anymore."
"Oh, I think he knew he couldn't hide it there. He only
needed to get it out of the States first." Michaels abandoned his ingratiating pose, sat back and crossed his arms. "You won't find the money there anymore," he told her with absolute authority.
"Why are you so certain of that, Mr. Michaels? Have you already moved it? Did I happen along at the wrong time and mess up a little plan to cover up a three mil heist with a simple bag job?"
Chapter 3
Michaels didn't bat an eye at her accusation. "I am trying to help here. If the robber and I were in cahoots, all he had to do was lock you in the safe, too. Or kill you outright."
In cahoots? Dani stifled a smile and nodded, tongue in cheek. She didn't really suspect Michaels of involvement and he knew it. "I still think it's quite a stretch, bank robbery to terrorism. Are you deducing all this from the robber's physical characteristics?" She had to admit, though, that the thought had crossed her mind when she first felt the gun and heard the accent. But that was a panic response, not good inductive policework.
"Not entirely."
"Okay, let's explore the possibility." She encouraged him to go on. His certainty was a little contagious. "Explain why else you would think he was a terrorist collecting funds from sympathizers?" she asked.
"While you were talking to the chief, I checked the numbers of the source accounts against the surnames of the holders. Those names reflect that this could be an effort by individuals with possible familial ties to the Middle East to amass a tidy sum, jump it from country to country and land the funds where they could easily be accessed as needed."
"All of the account holders? There must have been thirty accounts you drew from."
"In total, there were only nine individuals and companies. All have multiple accounts with us and all of those accounts were tapped. All except one have ties to the Middle East, or at least surnames that indicate they might. One of the smaller accounts has a name very similar to an organization on the terrorist watch list," he said.
Dani dropped any pretense of disagreement. He had made his case, or at least enough of one to warrant a full investigation. "I'll notify the agency. They'll institute a thorough investigation. You can't recover the funds? Have you tried?"