Still, there was something about their shape. I looked at the three main guys: Donovan, the leader, and his seconds, Michael and Eric. Tall, medium-tall, and just plain medium.
Surely not.
I’d almost left my hiding place and started for the asylum when something fell out of one of the duffel bags. I studied it as Eric picked it up and stuffed it back into the bag, and my heart sank. A white rubber mask. Just like the guys who had been on the news all over the county. Robbing banks. I knew those guys on the video surveillance footage had looked familiar. Of all the asinine hobbies.
How could I have been so wrong about them? They were good guys. I felt it the moment I met them. True, I’d been on the ground and Donovan had propped a boot on my stomach to keep me there, but deep down inside, they had hearts of gold.
I eased back behind Misery and thought about what I should do. I could try to talk them out of it, but I didn’t really want to die anytime soon. And they’d clearly been doing this for a while. I could turn them in, but what if I were wrong? Maybe they had a perfectly good explanation for why they were dressed exactly like the infamous bank robbers the Gentlemen Thieves. Maybe they were going to a theme party where the attendees dressed like their favorite villains. Bikers did tend to have some off-the-wall parties. But at ten o’clock in the morning?
Ten o’clock in the morning was prime bank-robbing time.
Damn it.
The van roared to life, and I stepped back to the fence. Donovan tossed something to Eric just before the kid slid the side door closed; then the scruffy leader looked around to make sure no one was watching before jumping in the passenger’s side.
That’s when a plan formed. I would follow them. If they really were just going to a theme party, I’d go in and tell them what I’d thought and we’d all have a good laugh. But if they robbed a bank, I’d have to come up with another plan. There was no getting around it.
I hopped in Misery and did my best to keep up with them without looking like I was doing my best to keep up with them. For the first time since I got her, I cursed Misery’s cherry red exterior. Black would have been better. Or better yet, pavement gray. Then I’d really blend. I’d never longed for an invisibility cloak as much as I did at that moment.
When they pulled up to the Bernalillo Community Bank, I was still hopeful they were just withdrawing extra cash for the party. Someone had to pay for the chips and beer. I parked across the street and waited. They sat idling for a few seconds before bursting out of the van in full bank-robber attire, complete with white masks and semiautomatic weapons.
I let my head drop onto the steering wheel and sat in misery, literally, wondering what to do. Today was just not my day. Between my dad trying to kill me, Reyes trying to kill my dad, and the hottest biker dudes I’d ever met turning out to be notorious bank robbers, I wondered why I’d ever left my apartment. I was just fine there. I liked it there. It was warm and cozy in the same way a prison cell was cozy, but at least no one was shooting at me and no one was robbing it. Not that I knew of.
Wait. Maybe I could still talk them out of it. Maybe if Donovan knew that I knew, he’d be embarrassed and put a stop to the whole thing.
And maybe Charles Manson really was just a misunderstood poet.
But it was worth a shot. I mean, we were friends. Friends didn’t shoot friends. Apparently fathers did, but friends were a different story altogether.
I left Margaret in Misery and hurried across the street, past the idling van, and into the bank as stealthily as I could. Which wasn’t very. The place was being robbed, so it wasn’t difficult to spot a new patron stepping inside. I zeroed in on Donovan instantly. The cool thing was, not one of them had his gun drawn. Fortunately, that didn’t seem necessary. Donovan was busy keeping his eyes on the security guard and the patrons who were facedown on the floor. They were so going to be traumatized and I felt bad for them in that regard, but I was still thrilled Donovan wasn’t pointing a gun at them, threatening to blow their heads off. That was much more traumatizing in the long run.
The others were seeing to the cash drawers and the vault, and one of them was standing on the tellers’ counter, keeping watch. It was Eric. He spotted me and stilled. I thought about smiling and waving but didn’t want to look like a complete idiot.
When I looked back at Donovan, he was watching me, his arms crossed at his chest, his head tilted to the side as though asking me, What the f**k?
I wondered that, too, as I stepped over patrons to get to him.
“Sorry,” I said when I stepped on a woman’s skirt. Then I tripped on a man’s arm. “Sorry,” I repeated. When I finally got to Donovan, I did that fake smile thing so I could talk without moving my lips. No idea why. “You’re a bank robber?” I asked through clenched teeth, looking around nonchalantly.
Eric, the youngest and tallest of the crew, jumped from the counter and landed solidly next to us. He eased around me, crowded into me, dipped his head until his mouth was at my ear. “Don’t we need a hostage?” he asked, his words breathy with adrenaline. I could hear the smile in his voice.
Donovan kept tabs on the room with quick, sharp glances that landed on me at regular intervals. He looked at his watch. “Fifteen seconds!” he yelled before refocusing on me. At least I think he did. It was hard to see past the rubber mask. “I think you’re right.”
Before I could protest, he turned me around and put one arm around my throat and one around my waist.
I rolled my eyes. “You have got to be kidding me,” I said, my teeth still clenched.