My first instinct was to protect Bella. I moved her behind me before she realized what had happened. My phone continued to vibrate insistently, telling me that Alice had foreseen this event.
My mind raced as I considered my options. I could easily remove the gun from the man's hand and erase the threat so quickly that he wouldn't even realize what I had done until it was over. But there would be five witnesses, four of whom would surely question the superhuman speed with which I had disarmed the gunman—and one of whom was a deputy who worked with Charlie Swan. I had also noticed the standard security camera mounted high upon the wall. We were being filmed, and it was likely that the scene was recorded elsewhere, as well as within the camera.
Forcing myself to consider prudence, I hesitated and waited to see what would happen. If the situation escalated, I could still act in an instant.
"Edward—" Bella began, peering over my shoulder. "Oh!" She saw the weapon. Her heart thumped rapidly, thrumming against my back.
"Easy, son," Lindstrom began, his foot inching forward.
The man shook his head fiercely, his finger slipping over the trigger. "No, don't move. Everyone stay where you are."
The teller stood stiffly at the window. He looked at her briefly then gestured with his left hand, the gun still firmly held in his right. "Get out from behind there. Don't touch anything!" Of course he feared she would hit the panic button.
I scanned her thoughts quickly. She hadn't activated the silent alarm yet but was debating whether she should.
"Don't!" he said preemptively. I suppose one didn't need to be a mind-reader to know what she was considering.
His tone convinced her to step out of the cage without alerting the police to the situation. She was very frightened, her mind filling with bloody images of gunshot wounds. I could hear five human hearts hammering; the others' thoughts paralleled hers.
The gunman shifted around as she stepped in front of him. "All of you get over there," he ordered, motioning toward the far corner. "Lock the door and close the blinds," he added as the teller passed the window. "Put up the closed sign, too."
Her hands shaking, she complied.
"Look," the loan officer said quaveringly, trying to find a little strength. "People will wonder… if we're closed during business hours, someone will notice."
"It's not that busy," he retorted, "and I'll be out of here soon. I just need you to clean out the drawers and give me whatever cash you've got."
I still held my phone in my hand. His eyes swept the room and each of us.
"Drop that," he said curtly, pointing the gun at my phone. I did as he asked, permitting my hand to open. Bella jumped when the phone hit the floor. I slid my hand around to offer her a reassuring touch.
"Get out from behind him," the would-be robber ordered, jerking the gun toward Bella. "Move out where I can see you."
I suppressed a growl. I could not permit him to threaten Bella. Lindstrom shot a quick, curious look at me; he'd heard the low rumble in my throat.
"I'm okay," she murmured in an effort to calm me.
I clenched my teeth as Bella shifted to stand beside me. Immediately I clasped her hand.
"Purses," the man commanded curtly. "Phones, too."
Bella and the customer dropped their bags to the floor. The loan officer remained motionless. Indeed, no one had moved into the corner yet.
"Listen, son," Lindstrom tried again. "Let's just talk—"
"Shut up! Just get out your phone. Don't try anything." His finger twitched over the trigger.
The deputy slowly removed his phone from his front pocket, wishing fervently that he carried a second weapon. He dropped the phone then held up his hands placatingly. "Okay, no phone," he said.
"You," the man snapped, gaze darting to Bella. "Kick those over here."
Bella took a step forward and stumbled. I had to restrain my hand forcibly, reaching out at human speed to catch her arm just before she hit the ground. I helped her to regain her balance, then she toed her purse to join the other woman's. Using her foot, she slid the two abandoned phones toward the purses.
"Now kick them to me," the man directed brusquely.
Bella employed the side of her foot to deliver a soft kick to the small pile. It only moved a few inches.
The man glared at her. My eyes narrowed at him, but I remained quiet.
"Get them over here. Now!" he ordered.
She delivered a more solid blow to the items. I heard her heart rate spike as a little gasp escaped her. She had used her injured leg, and it had caused her pain. The purses and phones skittered across the floor as Bella struggled to remain standing. My legs burned with the need to go to her.
"What's the matter with you?" the gunman asked her angrily. "What are you trying to pull?"
"I'm sorry," she said softly. Finally she'd managed to get both feet firmly upon the ground, but her pulse was still significantly elevated.
"She had a broken leg," I said through gritted teeth. "It's still healing. She's in pain."
He scowled at me. "All of you, over in the corner, now."
Bella shuffled back to me, and I quickly wrapped my arm around her waist to offer her some support.
"I'm all right," she said softly.
The man shouted, "No talking!"
Everyone moved toward the far wall. The loan officer glanced at her desk; I followed her gaze to the small cell phone beside her computer. The thief did not miss this. He was sharp and observant, his mind alert to any possible threat.
"Throw that over here," he barked.
As her shaking hand reached for the phone, I noticed the name plate on her desk: Margery O'Brien. She tossed the phone toward him then stepped back to the corner.
He nodded at the teller. "You got a phone on you?"
She shook her head. "It's… it's in my purse, in the bathroom."
She pictured the small washroom in her mind. Her purse hung on a hook with her jacket.
She was telling the truth. I quickly searched my companions' thoughts to determine if anyone was hiding anything. I wouldn't risk the wrath of our captor if he discovered a hidden phone or weapon.
He pointed the gun at the teller. "Throw over your keys." He planned to clean out the cash drawers.
She looked to Margery, who gave a nod of consent, saying, "Go ahead, Lisa."
Lisa pulled the keys from her wrist and hurled them across the room. As the man bent to retrieve them, his eyes upon us the entire time, Lindstrom whispered, "What's his name?"
Lisa swallowed then answered quickly, "Raymond Halsman."
"Quiet!" Raymond yelled as he sidled around behind the teller's window.
I had positioned Bella at my side again, keeping my arm around her. I could shield her in an instant if necessary. She leaned into me, one hand clutching at my shirt. I moved my thumb up and down over her hip, hoping to reassure her with the small motion.
I heard Lisa's and Margery's heartbeats accelerate as Raymond jerked open the first drawer. The same image filled both of their minds: Two armed guards carrying bags from the building. In Raymond's thoughts, I saw the nearly-empty drawers and heard his disappointment and growing ire.
"Shit!" he hissed, lifting the gun slightly higher. It was aimed squarely at Lisa. "What the hell?" he demanded, kicking at the little door that permitted entry and egress from the tellers' area. He stormed forward, stopping only a few feet from us.
Margery took a breath. "The armored truck was just here… about an hour ago. We've only had a couple of transactions since then."
"All withdrawals," Lisa added, cringing back automatically.
Raymond waved the gun at Lindstrom and me. "Give me your wallets."
Immediately we both complied, holding out the small folios. He snatched them from us and stuffed them into his back pocket without checking the contents. He planned to take the women's wallets from their purses, too. He wouldn't get as much money as he had hoped, but it was something, at least… He would walk away with enough to cover his immediate needs.
Relief washed over me as I saw his plan to leave as soon as he had taken the other wallets.
Abruptly Lindstrom spoke, his voice relatively steady though his thoughts reflected both fear and excitement. This was his chance to be a hero, to shine in Chief Swan's eyes, and maybe even to get his name in the headlines. He couldn't just permit this criminal to walk away.
"Listen, Raymond," he began.
My phone shuddered on the floor. Alice was calling again. I shook my head infinitesimally, silently pleading for him to remain quiet. I knew the best plan was to let Raymond go.
But the deputy was determined to play his part. Raymond frowned at the use of his name, but Lindstrom continued before he responded.
"Right now this is just an attempted robbery," the deputy said, trying to sound reasonable and calm. "You give me the gun and we're talking about a minimal sentence. But if you walk out of here, all that changes."
"If I walk out of here," Raymond said, "I keep my head above water a little longer. Maybe then I can get back on my feet."
I could hear his desperation. But I could also discern a hint of irrationality in his mind. He was a man on the brink, and I knew it would take little to push him over the edge.
"You won't get away," Lindstrom persisted. "We already know your name—"
"Shut up!" Raymond cried.
I agreed with him completely.
"Just…" Raymond's hand shook so slightly that no one aside from me noticed. "Just everyone stay where you are." He walked swiftly to the door and opened the shade a bit to peer outside.
Lindstrom planned to pursue him the instant he was clear of the bank.
I used his momentary distraction to catch Lindstrom's eye. I shook my head and mouthed, "Don't. Just let him go."
But Raymond's thoughts bombarded me before I could continue. He was aggravated now, both panic and frustration surging through him. A truck had just pulled up directly outside the bank. Four painters were climbing out, preparing to begin work on the vacant building next door as soon as the rain slackened.
"Damn it!" Raymond spat. "Is there another exit?"
"No," Margery replied shakily. "I'm sorry, there's just the front door."
"Windows? What about the bathroom?" he queried, his voice rough.
She shook her head. "It's tiny—" She held up her hands to display the approximate dimensions.
"Shit, shit, shit," he muttered, one hand raking through his hair.
He watched as one of the painters pulled a metal ladder from the truck, but it slipped from his hands, clattering loudly to the curb. The humans all jumped at the unexpected noise.
"What's going on?" Lisa asked anxiously.
"Damn painting crew," Raymond grumbled. "Just setting up now…" He closed the shade then stepped before us again. "Looks like we're gonna be here for a while. So everyone just stay put. Don't move, don't try anything."
"Look, Raymond," Lindstrom began, "we can still end this now. Just put down the gun—"
Raymond lifted the gun higher, aiming it directly at the deputy's head. "Shut the hell up!"
But Lindstrom refused to back down. "You really don't want to do this—"
Raymond laughed harshly. "You're right, I don't want to do this. But I have to."
"Okay, then, let's talk about it," Lindstrom tried again.
"I don't want to talk!" Raymond ground out. "I just want everyone to be quiet. I need to think."
I shot Lindstrom a pleading look. Didn't the man have any sense at all? He was only exacerbating the situation.
Unfortunately, my assistance was unwanted. The deputy thought, Damned rich kid. Who does he think he is, glaring at me like that? Looks like the doc didn't raise him so well after all.
I glanced down at Bella, trying to show Lindstrom that my efforts were solely for her. My fingers curled over her hip.
Okay, so he's trying to protect her, the deputy acknowledged. But he's not a trained officer; I am. And that's Charlie's daughter. We take care of our own…
My vexation faded a bit as I listened. Well-intentioned as he was, he was still putting the humans at risk with his foolish, self-serving need to play the hero.
Raymond glanced up for a moment. I could hear a distant rumble of thunder. I followed his thoughts as he realized that the darkening skies would reveal the lights inside the bank. If the office were closed, it would be dark inside.
He directed the gun at Lisa. "Turn off the lights," he instructed.
She hurried over to the wall to extinguish the lights. The interior was immediately cast in a gray haze. He hadn't realized how dim the room would be without any artificial illumination. He took several steps back, willing his human eyes to adjust.
This was my opportunity. I could dart across the room in less than a second and wrench the gun from his hand. There was a good chance that no one would see me clearly enough to realize what had happened.
"Don't move," I whispered to Bella.
"Edward, no—"
She caught my wrist. Jerking my arm from her grasp could easily break her fingers. I hesitated for an instant as I quickly yet gently pried her fragile fingers away. And in that tiny fraction of time, Lindstrom acted on impulse; there wasn't even time for his thoughts to betray him.
He shot across the room, his form a shadowy blur to the humans but painfully clear to me. Now I heard his intent: He planned to wrest the gun from Raymond. There was a very real possibility that the weapon would discharge. Instantly I positioned my body before Bella, looping my arm around her and lifting her as I took two rapid steps to the side so that I could partially shield the other three women, too.
Raymond saw the deputy's movement and darted back, but Lindstrom lunged at him. I watched as Lindstrom's hand reached for Raymond's right wrist. His fingers began to close around it, but Raymond wrenched his arm away. Lindstrom was off-balanced, so when Raymond delivered a blow to his chest he fell back. I watched in abject horror as the deputy tumbled, his head striking the solid granite of the tellers' counter with a sickening thud.
"Damn it!" Raymond hissed. "I told you not to try anything!" He spun to face the rest of us, waving the gun furiously. "No one move!"
The women were frozen in fear. I forced myself to remain motionless as well. I could still dash forward and take the gun, subduing Raymond in the process. But then my body went rigid: I smelled blood.
To be continued...