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"And …" he looked down at the man’s chest, reading the name tag, "George, I'd like all of it in small bills."
The man looked down at the number, and his eyebrows rose. He put the number into the computer and swallowed. "Will that be all today?"
He nodded.
"I'll need to make a call. Can I see your identification, please?"
He grabbed his wallet and slid over an ID card Nydia provided before letting him go. He glanced at it before sliding it away. It was a younger picture of him. He wondered where she got it. George grabbed the phone, dialing a number.
Strap tapped Mickey’s arm to follow him. "How much are you pulling out?" she asked.
"Enough," he said with a grin.
He strolled across the lobby and poured himself a cup of coffee. Mickey ate a cookie while watching the TV. Memories of coming here with Mick rolled through his mind. Back then, things weren’t so fancy. Plus, they didn’t have as many security cameras and two fewer guards. Didn’t matter. Mick always told him not to shit where he ate.
After a few minutes, George came out, opening a side door to a long hallway.
"If you will follow me, miss, sir," George said, still holding a smile, but it seemed forced now.
They followed the bank manager down a hall until they arrived at a large vault. The door was open, and a few people with nametags were pulling out large stacks of money and placing them aside. It almost gave him déjà vu.
Mickey leaned closer to him, whispering into his ear, "Just how much money are you taking out?"
He handed her the paper he wrote on, and her eyes grew wide. She looked at the stacks of money and then at him.
"Where the hell did you get all of that?"
He simply shrugged and glanced at the bills, seeing they were in euros. That was good. When they were finished, Strap opened his pack and stuffed everything inside. He tossed the bag over his shoulder and gave George a nod. "Thank you, that will be all."
They were escorted back to the lobby, and he glanced at Mickey as they stepped outside the bank. "You've gone quiet. Something got your tongue?"
She shrugged. "It's just weird seeing all that money."
He raised an eyebrow at her. She was a thief. Surely, she'd seen more money than that. The thought confused him, but he wasn't going to press the issue.
Step one of his plan was complete. Now onto step two.
FOURTEEN
MICKEY
Mickey walked quietly beside Strap along alleyways and places she wasn’t sure she would go on her own. Especially if she carried as much money as Strap had in his pack. She couldn't believe how much Strap had pulled out. He looked so calm while doing it too. Like it was just another day to him.
It made her question what kind of life he lived and how he managed to get that money. He was a shifter, after all … they lived by different rules. But maybe not all that different.
He stole it. You know that. He worked for your father. All the money he has is from that.
She shook her head, hating how dark her mind went. But how could she think of anything else? It all added up.
"Where did you get all that money?" she asked, hoping he would have another story than what her mind was thinking.
He glanced at her while they waited to cross the street. "I've saved up over the years and hardly needed it the past several years." That didn't really answer her question. It only led to more questions. How had he managed to save up so much? Didn't he need it?
"That’s not an answer."
"It's from work and everything I've done over the years. It's just what I'd built up before …" He fell silent, not finishing the sentence.
Beforewhat? But she could see the way his jaw clenched. It wasn't a question she should ask.
