Smash & Grab (17 page)

My meeting with Christian
went better than I'd hoped. Still, I'm strangely disappointed. I guess part of me was hoping he'd have a change of heart and let me off the hook, but hello, he's a criminal, so of course he didn't, and now here we are. He thinks he's blackmailing me, and I'm biding my time until I decide how best to return the favor.

I have pictures of my own, don't I? I'm not entirely sure when the best time will be to leverage them, but I have faith that I'll figure it out.

What I need now is more information. I hung out at Leo's until late last night, doing Internet searches on every bank robbery in the area over the last few years. I found his group pretty quickly. The Romero Robbers, named after the famous horror director George Romero, who made the classic zombie movie
Night of the Living Dead.
Apparently, the detectives who work these cases give all their bank robbers nicknames that reference something about the case, like the zombie masks Christian's group wears. I found a handful of articles about them, as well as some security footage, but you can't tell who's who. Only one guy stands out. He must be well over two hundred pounds, but the others all look like identical zombie clones, with their dark clothes, masks, glasses, and black hoodies.

But other than the pictures I have of Christian in the stolen getaway car, I have very little else to go on. You can't exactly Google
Christian Ruiz
and not expect a bazillion hits. I even looked up the food truck, but other than some reviews raving about the Korean bulgogi tacos, there wasn't much. No website. No details. So I'll play along for now, using each meeting with Christian to glean information about him and the Romero Robbers.

I make my way back upstairs, barely paying attention to where I'm going. I'm too preoccupied with all that's happened and whether I should let Quinn and the others in on my blackmail situation. I think I have to. Quinn is going to freak out, but the pictures of Christian should calm him back down. Besides, I can't just go meet Christian at the abandoned zoo alone. I'm all for risks, but I'm not stupid. It's too remote, the perfect place for the rest of the Romero Robbers to hide and ambush me.

Quinn will tell me to just quit. But I want this too bad now, and if I can manage to somehow get my brother and the others to help me, this could be the biggest BAM yet—we could bring down not one criminal but six.

Almost as if the universe itself is rooting for me, it turns out that our last orientation session is with the bank security team and two police officers. Maybe I can squeeze some information about Christian and his group from them. They have to know about the Bank of America heist.

There are two people standing at the front of the conference room—a man and a woman in plainclothes who appear to be in a good mood, joking and talking with Trisha while they wait for us to file in and settle into our chairs. I'm excited to listen to them…that is, until I get a good look at the guy. He's the one who questioned me outside the Bank of America the other day. Detective Martin. Even as shook up as I was, there is no way I could ever forget him. He's got this military air about him and eyes so intense they're practically giving off an electric current that makes my arm hairs stand on end. He's got a bristly gray crew cut, and his shoes are so shiny I can make out the blurry image of the overhead fluorescent lighting in them. This is a man who prides himself on details. I almost walk back out the door, but then it's too late. He glances over and sees me, and I can't run out without looking obvious.

I don't recognize the woman. She is a lot younger than Martin is and most likely pregnant, because there's a little swell below her belt. It's small enough that I would be afraid to congratulate her, though. There are dark circles beneath her eyes, and her hair is too wild to do much with except pull it back.

I feel conspicuous even though this guy saw me only once and my face was red and swollen from crying at the time. Has he seen through my disguise? He looked right past me like he'd never seen me before.

I read somewhere that people have tells that make it obvious when they're covering something up or lying. I wish I knew his. And then I have a horrible thought.
What about me? Am I giving off some kind of liar alarm only the police officers can detect?
I should leave; I can't take this chance. I start to get up from my chair, but Trisha shuts the door.

“Okay, this is Detective Martin and Detective Hobbs. They're part of a new program the theft department has initiated to help train LL National's employees in the event that we are held up. This is a routine part of orientation. Every one of our employees takes this training. Even those of us who don't work directly with customers. They have some very practical ways to help you identify a possible robber before he makes his move and to deter him from following through. Pay close attention. But I don't want you to be nervous. In all the years we've had interns in our banks, we've never had a robbery occur while one of them was present. Detectives.” Tricia sits down in the last available chair at the conference room table, and we give our full attention to Martin and Hobbs.

For a second all I can think of is Calvin and Hobbes—the cartoon characters from my father's old desk calendar—something my grandfather got him every year at Christmas, before he died. My father still has the last one on his desk at home, even though it's from almost ten years ago. It helps calm me down now to try to picture Detective Martin as a fifty-something version of Calvin. Detective Hobbs looks nothing like the tiger Hobbes, so I try to imagine her in a tiger suit, belly pooch and all. I can't help smiling a little. When she catches me, she smiles back.

“Thank you, Ms. Bryant.” Detective Martin paces as he talks, as if staying still isn't something he can do. I keep my head down, pen in hand like I'm eager to take notes.

“We're here to talk to you about Effective Capture, the new program the LAPD has been implementing with the FBI throughout the Los Angeles area to great success. Bank robberies are down across the board since we began our training. We're on track for less than half the robberies we had just last year.”

There is a smattering of applause.

He goes on to tell stories about a few robbers they've caught recently. The clues they leave! They're so obvious that I can barely believe they're for real. One guy wrote his stickup note on the back of an electric bill with his name and address on it. Another guy didn't check for dye packs and got a face full of bright red dye mixed with pepper spray as soon as he stepped out of the bank.

“Most robbers will try to carry a note to one teller, passing the note to her alone and asking for the money in her drawer. They may or may not have a gun, and in most cases they don't plan on using it if they do.”

Christian had a gun. He dropped it next to me that day,
I think. I'd nearly forgotten, but remembering it now makes him seem more dangerous…and earlier I was taunting him.
Smart, Lexi. Real smart.

“While you are here, it is your job to keep yourself and the other employees and the customers safe. Even if the odds of a robber using a weapon are remote, statistically speaking, you should never challenge a robber once he or she passes you a note. Comply as fast as you can with the goal of getting the robber out of the bank as quickly as possible.”

I was feeling smug walking in here, but between recognizing Martin and the training itself, I'm starting to freak out. Most robbers are desperate and careless, but Christian's group has robbed at least three banks without getting caught. They aren't a typical heist team. Suddenly, messing with them doesn't feel like such a good idea, but then I don't seem to have a choice. Christian knows who I am. He took pictures of me at my house. But then, thinking about the few times we've talked…he doesn't seem like a dangerous criminal. I can't make myself believe he's bad. Which is ridiculous, given the overwhelming evidence.

And then I think about all the things I've done. The BAMs. Some—okay, most—have been illegal in some way. If I were found out, I wouldn't look so good, either. True, I've never done anything involving a gun. But in all the robberies Christian's helped commit, the guns were always waved around but never used. Maybe they're just for show. When he crashed into me that day, he never pointed the gun at me, not once. And he seemed worried that he'd hurt me. I remember it, the concern in his eyes.

Detective Martin stops in front of me. “It seems counterintuitive, doesn't it?” he asks, ripping me out of my thoughts. He's studying me the way he probably studies everything—like he remembers every detail. He doesn't just size me up; he catalogs me and files me away for future reference. Under his gaze I have the intense urge to run screaming and puke simultaneously. Instead, I paste what I hope is an unassuming smile on my face and hope for the best.

“But every bank robbery has the potential of going bad, and when it does, it endangers every single person in the bank. What's your name?” he asks me.

I swallow. “Angela Dunbar.”

He refers to the papers he has stacked on the table. “UCLA, huh? How've your first couple of days here been?”

“Fine. Enlightening…and carb-heavy,” I say, gesturing to the stack of bagels still on the side table. The other interns laugh. I'm not sure if cracking jokes is appropriate, but when I'm nervous, it's what I do.

He gives me a fatherly smile, meant to put me at ease. It doesn't. “The most important thing you'll learn here today is that most bank robberies occur without anyone being harmed, and that's a good thing. That's what we want. Because the chances of the robbers walking out that front door and being able to spend the money they take before we catch them are next to zero. We will get them. It's just a matter of time.”

“But what about the ones who have evaded capture?” I ask. “The Romero Robbers, for instance. If you haven't caught them by now, what makes you so sure you will?” It's a bold question, and his eyes narrow.

“Because all robbers eventually get greedy and break from their routine to try and up the take. Plus, based on where they've hit in the past, we can predict what banks are most likely their next targets. We are alert to every possible threat.”

And maybe he's right, but then again, I'm sitting here in front of him with a false ID, fake contacts, and a wig on my head, and he seems to have no idea.

Martin taps the table in front of me and goes back to the front of the room.

“Now, just because we're asking you to comply with the robbery once it's in progress does not mean we don't want you to take steps to prevent one. Many would-be robbers give off subtle and not-so-subtle clues about their intentions
before
they act. We're here today to go over the most common ones and what your response to them should be.”

He explains that we're supposed to pay attention to people as they enter the bank. If we get the sense that there's something off about them, we should speak to them before they can speak to us, pretending that we're just overeager to help a customer. Something about being overly friendly can throw robbers off and convince them that something's up. Hobbs says it's because they've been noticed before they're ready, and the job starts to feel wrong. It can make them rethink the robbery and leave. But this technique doesn't work for all cases, especially if the person doing the robbing becomes aware of it.

I raise my hand. Sometimes a BAM can be as simple as asking a risky question.

“Angela?”

“But what about the robberies where there's more than one person and they come in with guns pointed at you, yelling for everyone to get down?

“What you're talking about is a takeover. In those cases there is nothing you can do except comply and work to get the robbers out of the bank as soon as possible. These robberies have the most potential for violence and, in most cases—not all, but most—the perpetrators are experienced criminals. The only thing you can do to aid us with these investigations is to remember as many details about them as you can. Any conversation that they have, the time they entered the bank, their approximate height, distinguishing physical features that you might notice, clothing, tattoos, that type of thing. Even experienced thieves leave clues. The more information we have from tellers and other witnesses in the bank, the easier it is to track them down.”