Last Heist (Emma Last FBI Mystery Series Book 5) by Mary Stone

Author:Mary Stone [Stone, Mary]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Mary Stone Publishing
Published: 2023-10-04T16:00:00+00:00

18

I parked on the side street beside the bank, gentling my baby out of first gear and sitting back to wait. I still had a few minutes before opening time.

The Municipal Bank of Samson Creek looked just like it had back when Georgie cased it. A green metal roof over that cozy white siding, like it was actually someone’s home instead of a bank. They even had a drive-through that almost took up more space than the building itself. This place was small, like the last one, so the bag, at most, would be around fifty grand.

Still enough to make a difference in retirement. No question about that.

Most importantly, Georgie’s notebooks laid out all the bank’s details like an engine rebuild kit. Every piece lined up in a row and waiting for me to slot it in. Georgie’d done his homework, all right.

I repeated his notes from memory, going over each detail. But I stopped mid-sentence as a lone car pulled into the small parking lot.

Opening operations. Assistant manager and manager come in together, about a quarter to nine, to open up and get the teller drawers out of the vault.

There should’ve been two of them, but I saw only one person in the car—a woman, as far as I could tell from this distance. That matched what Georgie’s notes said.

Manager is an older lady. Drive-through operator comes in around nine thirty, checks the ATM, then opens up the window. Security guard shows up around ten.

If only one person was showing up, I’d expect it to be one of them. But I wasn’t planning on sticking around that long. Today, however, it seemed only the manager had arrived. Maybe this was one of those banks that didn’t play by all the rules about what should be done security-wise.

The lady got out of her Honda Accord, and for a moment, I couldn’t breathe. It wasn’t some ‘older lady’ at all, but a mid-twenties beauty who stood almost as tall as me.

Was she a new manager? Had the bank set up some new policies, making Georgie’s notes useless?

I had my hand on the keys, ready to turn over my engine and get out of there, but my worry quickly turned to relief. The lady who now stood at the bank door was a long-legged creature in turquoise pants and a cream-colored winter coat. Plenty nice to look at, but it was her hair that put a smile on my face as wide as the Mississippi.

Against the light fabric of her coat, her hair gleamed so dark a red that it almost looked deep purple in the morning light. Hanging to her waist like a waterfall, straight and well cared for.

Mary Karen could make a fucking masterpiece with locks like that.

I thought back to that black-haired woman I’d killed in Georgia, the one with the hair stretching straight down to her ass, practically past her miniskirt. Mary Karen had gotten two wigs out of her, both of them beauties. One had been long, cut like Cleopatra.

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