This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Text copyright © 2015 D. M. Pulley
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by Thomas & Mercer, Seattle
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ISBN-13: 9781477820872
ISBN-10: 1477820876
Library of Congress Control Number: 2014946857
Thank you, Irv, for holding my hand every step of the way. You said it best: Our love is an endless courseAnd I am the runner, euphoric.
CONTENTS
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39
CHAPTER 40
CHAPTER 41
CHAPTER 42
CHAPTER 43
CHAPTER 44
CHAPTER 45
CHAPTER 46
CHAPTER 47
CHAPTER 48
CHAPTER 49
CHAPTER 50
CHAPTER 51
CHAPTER 52
CHAPTER 53
CHAPTER 54
CHAPTER 55
CHAPTER 56
CHAPTER 57
CHAPTER 58
CHAPTER 59
CHAPTER 60
CHAPTER 61
CHAPTER 62
CHAPTER 63
CHAPTER 64
CHAPTER 65
CHAPTER 66
CHAPTER 67
CHAPTER 68
CHAPTER 69
CHAPTER 70
CHAPTER 71
CHAPTER 72
CHAPTER 73
CHAPTER 74
CHAPTER 75
CHAPTER 76
EPILOGUE
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
PROLOGUE
Midnight fell at the First Bank of Cleveland with the lonely clang of the great clock in the lobby. Its dull ring wandered past the heavy doors and empty chairs of the banking floor, down the hallway to the dark room where she hid. It was the first sound she’d heard in an hour besides the whisper of her own breath. It was her cue.
She eased the door to the ladies’ room open and peered out into the darkness. Down the gloomy corridor and into the banking room, long shadows slashed across the floor, making familiar daytime objects sinister. Someone was watching—the night guard, her boss, someone—she was sure of it. There was always someone watching at the bank. She stood frozen in the doorway, knowing what would happen if she was caught. She would be arrested. She would be fired. She would lose everything. But then again she didn’t have much to lose. That’s probably how he talked me into this mess, she thought, shaking her head. She couldn’t believe she’d agreed to go through with it. But she had. After a full minute, she stepped out of her hiding place and let the door swing shut behind her.
Her tiny footsteps clacked on the stone slabs of the banking floor, rippling through the silence. Wincing, she tiptoed past the teller booths and into the lobby. The large clock ticked out the seconds as she crept by the revolving doors and floor-to-ceiling windows that separated her from the dark night outside. The headlights of a large sedan caught her through the glass as it turned down Euclid Avenue from East Ninth Street. Frozen, she didn’t breathe until the car had passed. When it finally did, a low whimper escaped her throat. She wanted to run back to the bathroom and hide there until morning, but she kept going. He was waiting for her.
The watchful portrait of the bank president, old Alistair Mercer, glared at her as she slipped under him and down the corridor to the left. There was no sign of the security guard at the elevator desk. It was just as he promised.
The street lights streaming through the lobby windows faded as she made her way around the corner and down the winding stairs into the darkness below. Somewhere down there he was waiting. With each step, she gripped the brass key tighter, until it felt lodged in her fist. She had stolen it from the safe the day before, hoping no one would notice. No one did.
No one had noticed when she hadn’t left with the others at five o’clock. The guard had snapped off the light in the ladies’ room without even checking the stalls. He had been right about everything so far.
The still air seemed thicker when she reached the bottom of the stairs. The red carpet had disappeared in the blackness, but she could tell by the cushion beneath her feet it was still there. She pictured the door to the vault and made her way silently across the floor. Her heart pounded in her ears as she strained to hear the sound of a flashlight clicking on, a ring of keys rattling, or the dull thud of heavy footsteps. There was nothing. Slowly adjusting to the dark, she could just make out the clerk’s desk in the corner. It was a black barricade guarding the entrance to the vault. She hurried over to it, crouched down behind the counter, and waited.
When nothing happened, she slipped open the drawer to the left of the chair and blindly felt the objects inside until she found the one she wanted. It was another key. As she straightened up, a hulking shadow loomed over her. She opened her mouth to scream. A large hand clamped down.
“Shh!”
The leathery palm crushed her lips, smothering her voice. Her flailing arms and fists were bound up in the shadow’s grip. She was caught.
“Hey, it’s me! It’s all right. It’s all right. Sorry I scared you. You okay?”
Her straining muscles went limp at the sound of his voice. She nodded and nearly crumpled to the ground. His hand was still over her mouth.
“Did you get it?” he asked.
She nodded again.
“Good.” He released his hand so she could breathe. “Come with me.”
He grabbed her wrist and led her through the round doorway and into the vault. She couldn’t see a thing, but she could tell by the sound of their footsteps on hard metal exactly where they were.