Page 35

Three blocks away from the bank, the sedan had settled in behind us, tucked between a compact SUV and another vehicle. Hawk followed two cars behind the sedan. As the bank building rose ahead of us, limestone and glass, the sedan turned onto a side road, moving to a spot just outside the parking lot and on a small hill where he had a decent view of the whole area, including the front entrance.

A feeling of panic built inside me I tried to keep under control. Since the robbery I’d avoided banks as much as I could when I wasn’t compelled to be in one.

We parked and Hannah gave me a reassuring smile. “Ready?” Hannah asked, releasing my hand.

“As I’ll ever be.” We waited until Tiny got out of the vehicle. When he opened the door for Hannah, she motioned for me to exit on her side.

Hannah shut the door before squeezing my shoulder reassuringly. “Let’s get this done.”

We entered the revolving door and pushed us all out into the lobby. The smell was the same. I shivered and felt the sweat pop out on my forehead. I stopped moving, but Hannah took my hand and squeezed.

“Breathe,” she murmured, too low for anyone else to catch. “You can do this.”

I let Hannah lead me through the vaulted ceiling above us, marble columns rising to a coffered dome with some kind of mural I tried to focus on to take my mind off where I was. Teller counters lined the far wall with several stations, only two with customers. A woman in a navy suit glanced up from her desk, saw Tiny following Hannah and me, and her eyes widened. She looked back at her screen, but kept sneaking glances at us. I’m sure we didn’t make a comforting sight.

“There.” Hannah nodded toward the seating area near the windows. “That’s the man Knight found when looking up Gregory Norris.”

The older man sat in a chair with wooden arms, a black box on his lap. He looked exactly how I pictured him. White hair carefully combed, a tweed jacket with leather patches at the elbows, and khakis with a sharp crease made up his look. I’d put him at around seventy or seventy-five. The box was plain and unadorned. He saw us coming and stood carefully when he realized we were headed his way.

“Ms. Sloan.” His smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. “I recognize you from your grandmother’s photos. She was very proud of you.”

I stopped in front of him. Tiny positioned himself between Norris and the entrance, arms loose at his sides.

“Mr. Norris.” My voice came out rough, my throat suddenly tight. When he spoke of my grandmother, it was with obvious delight. They’d had a friendship of sorts. I cleared my throat. “Thank you for waiting.”

“Nonsense.” He held the box out with both hands, and I had to release my death grip on Hannah’s hand to take it. “Your grandmother spoke of you constantly. Every visit for the last six years, it was ‘My Brielle this’ and ‘My Brielle that.’” He chuckled. “The nurses thought she was bragging. She was. But she also worried. She said you worked too hard. That you never let anyone do anything for you.”

My throat closed. I hugged the box against my chest. “Thank you so much, Mr. Norris.”

Norris’s expression softened. “One thing you should know. The last six months, when she became so ill, she still asked for you, every single morning. The nurses would find her holding that photograph, the one in the box there, talking to you as if you were in the room.” He reached out and touched the top of the box, two fingers light as a blessing. “She said you had the prettiest name she’d ever heard. Said it meant ‘God is my strength.”

Norris smiled. “She was a fine woman,” he said again. “I’m sorry we couldn’t meet under happier circumstances, my dear.” He straightened his jacket and checked his watch, a wide gold band on his wrist. “Now I must run. My daughter’s youngest turns four today, and I’ve promised to make a fool of myself in the balloon toss.”

“Of course,” I managed. “Thank you. For everything. Please have a safe trip.”

I stood there holding the box. It felt like everything around me happened in a vacuum. I could hear sounds in the background, but everything seemed to come from deep inside a well. I had what I’d come for. I should move. Then everything seemed to rush at me at once, and I sucked in a breath.

“Brielle Sloan.”

The male voice came from my left and I wished I was back in the vacuum. I knew that voice. That’s when I realized Hannah was trying to get me to leave, but I’d been frozen, overwhelmed by all the stimulation and had been shutting down.

Grant Sutton stood in a charcoal overcoat, a camel scarf folded at his throat, holding a slim leather folder against his hip. He looked every inch a corporate bank executive, someone who belonged in this lobby more than I ever had. His smile was small and regretful, as if he were disappointed by circumstances beyond his control.

I lifted my chin, refusing to show this man weakness. Not again. Never again. “Mr. Sutton.” I tried to put as much ice in my voice as I could.

“Brielle.” He used my first name like we were still in his office, like I still worked for him. “I hoped we might have a conversation.”

Tiny shifted his weight. I felt the movement more than saw it, a tension in my peripheral vision. I had no doubt he was put out I hadn’t paid attention to Hannah so we could have avoided Sutton altogether. Sutton stood under the dome, in full view of three security cameras I could see and probably more I couldn’t.

“I don’t think so,” I said.

“Yet here we are.” He opened the folder, showed me the edge of a document without letting me read it. “A quiet place, with security cameras and lots of witnesses.” He glanced toward the teller counters, where the navy-suited woman was watching us with open curiosity now. “I filed a report, as you may know. The authorities are quite interested in your departure from our institution. The timing, the access logs, the --” he paused, delicate, “-- the personal elements.”

There was his threat, reminding me I’d already lied once. I might have only been nineteen, but I was still an adult who’d done something knowing it was illegal.

“I have a lawyer now,” I said. “You should contact them.”

Sutton’s smile didn’t waver. “I don’t doubt your lawyer’s competence. But I wonder if you’ve considered what it would take to fight this? The years of your life this could consume, Brielle, and for what?” He leaned in slightly, close enough I could smell his cologne, something clean and expensive. “You have nothing to gain and everything to lose.”