Newfound Clarity

Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Red Eye!

Chapter Nine

"I'm still bleeding…" ~ Death of Me by RED

It began like any normal delivery day. The truck came around ten. Kat greeted the driver, a nice black man named Floyd, and they chatted all the way to the vault and back to the lobby. Lisa and the other day teller, Stacy, picked up the slack. They ran circles around each other, narrowly missing a few collisions, in order to handle both the lobby full of customers and the two drive-thru lanes. The four phones rang non-stop, per usual, sometimes going unanswered.

After the usual lunch rush ended around one, the customers slowed to a trickle. Kat was back on the teller line, just now starting to count the shipment.

"What a crazy day," Kat muttered, unstrapping several packs of twenty dollar bills to run them through the bill counter. Lisa stood beside her, putting fresh bands around the recounted money.

"Yeah, it seems like every single customer needed some insane problem solved besides just a simple deposit or cashed check," Lisa agreed. "And those phones… do they ever stop?"

Kat laughed over the mechanical roar of the counter. "No, never. I think the customers have some sixth sense and prey on us only when we're busy and short-handed. I say just let the damn thing ring."

"At the Lux, we'd never get away with that. We had to answer the phone within three rings, day or night."

"We try, but you know how it is…"

Lisa nodded, glancing out the drive-thru. Thankfully, there weren't any cars in the distance rolling toward the bank. The only car in sight was the black one parked across the road. It'd been there early that morning as well, despite all the closed businesses in the plaza.

She frowned, that sickening prickle on the back of her neck making her skin crawl.

"Hi, how are you?" Stacy greeted behind them.

A grumble, then, "I'd like to get into my safety deposit box."

"Duty calls," Kat said with a sigh. She snatched up a ring of keys for the vault.

Lisa half-smiled at her and returned to strapping the last of the twenty dollar bills. Kat held a lot of responsibilities for someone in her mid-twenties. Only Stacy and one of the night tellers were younger than Kat. It was a rare feat that a teller supervisor would be older than the majority of the people she supervised.

Kat took it all in stride. She had a way with people that helped her soothe ruffled feathers with even the nastiest customer. Then, once they left, she would turn to the other tellers, share a horror story about the customer, and a few snide remarks. But she never said it to customer's face.

Lisa had been like that once. She could still remember the crushing pressure. Jackson freed her from that. It was perhaps the only favor he had ever done for her.

Lisa…

From across the road, he watched her work through binoculars. Her head bent over the counter, her hands busy. That was the Lisa he knew. The dedicated workaholic.

Beside her worked her new friend, Kat. Partners in crime, they were. Kat was easy on the eyes: high heels countered her diminutive stature, stockings ran up slightly muscled legs to the short black skirt she seemed to favor, and a blouse missing several buttons at the top clung to her chest. Sexy and borderline slutty at the same time. More than once he'd gotten an eyeful.

He'd seen the lacy top of her stockings and the snap holding them to a garter belt multiple times. He'd caught a peek down her shirt before—sometimes finding a tank top there, on rare occasions, it was just a bra—and even glimpsed a tattoo on her back when her shirt rode up infrequently.

Lisa never showed much skin. Her skirts were well past her knees, her blouses buttoned up almost to her neck, and she'd become a fan of wearing pants. Stylish and demure: that was his girl. Nothing was on display. Her curves were a secret.

Jackson felt sure that he was the only man to see or touch her breasts aside from her rapist. Kat probably slept with a dozen different men a month. Lisa never even went near a man in public.

Two complete opposites, yet they'd bonded better than sisters.

He set the binoculars down for a moment, stretching inside his car. The Audi was a dream to drive, but a nightmare to conduct surveillance in.

His neck cracked after he loosened his tie.

"Better. Much, much better."

Then, across the road, hell broke loose.

Kat grabbed her keys, leading the man to the vault's day gate. After a brief struggle with lock, they stepped inside. She went to retrieve his safety deposit box card when a gun cocked. She froze, the sound all too familiar.

"Turn around," he ordered.

She obeyed, her hands up in the air, her keys hanging by her elbow on the stretchy band. Every movement was slow and measured. No surprises.

"Give me everything you've got. Now."

"Okay, just take it easy…" Kat said calmly. Her voice stayed even despite the gun in her face.

"Now!"

The gun kissed her forehead, enhancing his point.

Kat dropped to her knees. "Okay…"

"Open it or I start shooting the others."

After a brief hesitation, Kat spun the combination lock on the safe beside her, the gun barrel shifting to the back of her head. She opened the interior compartment, exposing stacks of money, some wrapped in plastic, others banded together.

He dropped a bag in her lap. "Put it all in there."

Pack after pack of money went into the canvas bag. She started with the lowest denominations, slowly working her way up to the twenty, fifty, and hundred dollar bills. The entire vault was empty of bills when he grabbed the bag from her hands.

Kat moved to get up.

"Did I tell you to move, bitch?"

The gun struck her on the temple, sending her back to the floor. She groaned, her hand coming away bloody, her white blouse stained.

She heard his knees creak as he knelt down. His gun pressed into her stomach, holding her down to the floor. "Move again and I'll shoot you," he threatened. "Then, I'll shoot your friends."

A look in her eyes confirmed her fears. He would shoot her without hesitation. He didn't give a damn if she lived or died. Robbing a federally insured bank was a felony with strict penalties. An armed robbery only raised the penalties. Shooting her wouldn't change much if he was caught.

Back in the lobby, Lisa finished strapping the shipment. She started to lock it up when Stacy called, "Lisa? Can you grab an inter-office envelope for me?"

"Sure."

Her heels clicked as she went to the supply room. She stared at the shelf, puzzled. Why would Stacy need an inter-office envelope? Each teller kept her own supply—oh…

Stacy didn't really need an envelope. She needed Lisa to hit the alarm.

They were being robbed.

Author's Notes:

Dun… dun… dun…

To be continued in the next chapter! I know, so cruel. But Jackson will see Lisa!

Thanks again to my reviewers and cypris88 for catching my typos. Chapter ten will hopefully be posted by Saturday.