Page 36 of Capitol Matters

The three minutes driving here had passed in a blur, but Holland’s estimated five-minute reconnaissance mission felt like ages dragging by. Finally, I reached for the door handle and was startled by a different sort of shadow blocking my exit.

Ripley stood, swathed in black with hand poised to knock on the glass. He stepped back, barely far enough to evade the door as it swung open toward him. I stood from the vehicle and cast a glance across the lot to check for anyone looking on. Thankfully, bank business was slow this morning.

“Funny seeing you here, Farrow,” Ripley said. “I take it your handler is already inside?”

“Handler?” I scoffed.

He crossed his arms. “Dog walker?”

“Dick.”

I reached for my cigarettes before remembering they were in the pocket of the coat I’d removed. Sliding past Ripley, I opened the patrol car’s back door and found the garment in a wad.

The stoic teen lurked over my shoulder as I dug the pack out and tucked a cig between my lips.

“If she’s inside, why are you out here?” Ripley asked.

“I’m keeping customers out.” I flicked the lighter four times before it caught. “And waitingfor backup.”

Ripley regarded me with his typically snooty expression. “Interesting use of your skills.”

The smoke I blew into his face prompted him to wave a hand to clear it.

I motioned toward the bank building. “Avery’s in there, I’m guessing?”

Ripley nodded. “Mister Hale has no shortage of wild hare schemes.”

“Pretty much what he’s known for.”

A breeze rustled the trees, drawing my eyes to the bank’s windows once more. How long had Holland been gone?

“You know,” I began, “she’ll be back any minute and really shouldn’t see me talking to you.”

I shifted away from Ripley and moved onto the sidewalk where I could better watch for the investigator’s returning shadow.

Now behind me, Ripley grumbled. “Of course, of course. I’ll leave you to your very important assignment.”

He made it only a few paces before I stopped him.

“Hey, Rip.” I turned to see his brow furrowed.

“Hmm?”

“Is there another door?”

Inside Loan Wolves Bank & Trust, Hex members cluttered the lobby. Avery commanded centerstage, dressed in a leather vest and chaps. His ten-gallon hat and the six-shooters strapped to hiships completed the ensemble for a wild west fantasy. Even the new recruits were in costume.

I thought it was laughable, but Holland was deadly serious as she turned to me and hissed, “I told you to wait in the car.”

It had been no simple task finding the investigator cloaked in shadow behind a stand of pamphlets touting low interest rates and home refinancing. It was equally difficult to squeeze into the darkness beside her, so close we were practically piled on top of each other.

“Put the cash in the bags, boys!” Avery commanded his band of outlaws. “Everything you can carry; we’ll load up and ride out.”

Frightened customers and tellers huddled in corners and against walls. The few employees not taking cover assisted in filling canvas bags with stacks of strapped bills, egged on by gang members waving antiquated guns.

A sobering addition to the dinner theater-quality production carrying on before us was the security guard’s body sprawled a few feet away. Blood leaked from the decapitated stump of his neck, pooling on the carpet. A fallen radio inches from his open hand implied he’d made the call that brought us here.

Holland squirmed beside me, trying to peek around the small table. “Is that who I think it is?” She pointed at Avery.

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