“Oh, Regan, I know!” Alfred cried. “It’s just that it’s wedding season and we took on more than we can handle as it is. We wanted to strike while the iron is hot. People are talking about our designs…we work sixteen hours a day!”

“We’ll get the dresses made,” Charisse said firmly. “It will be difficult, but we’ll get it done.”

“That’s good,” Regan answered. “I’ll talk to the other April Brides and see what I can find out. See if they noticed anything that might be helpful in this investigation. I plan to be on this block tonight at around the same time the thieves broke in.”

“Regan…” Nora began.

“Don’t worry, Mom. Jack will be with me. I want to question people who are out at that time and find out if they saw anything. Maybe someone who walks his dog at that hour every night noticed something. Alfred, I want you to think really hard. When did you last have your keys? If whoever was here last night used them to get in, it would certainly be helpful to know where you might have lost them.”

Alfred looked up at the ceiling. “We’ve been working so much. It’s like we never leave here. When did I last see the keys? Hmmmm.”

“Did you have your keys in Atlantic City?” Charisse asked him softly.

“ Atlantic City?” Regan repeated, her voice rising. “When were you in Atlantic City?”

Alfred waved his hand. “Last Saturday night we needed to get out. So we took a drive down there. I gambled for a few hours. No big deal.”

But you never leave home, Regan thought. “Did you win anything?”

“Yes.”

“How much?”

“Twenty thousand dollars.”

“Twenty thousand dollars! Isn’t that how much money you said you had in the safe?”

“Exactly. I put my winnings in there for safekeeping.”

“Did you tell the police that?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I was embarrassed. I thought they might think I have a gambling problem. And believe me, Regan, I report my winnings to the government. I don’t want any trouble there. I once worked for a designer who didn’t pay his taxes, and they closed him up right before a show! He was ruined!”

“You don’t know whether you had your keys with you?”

“Alfred, you did!” Charisse said quickly. “Remember? We were hurrying to get out of here and you ran to get your business cards and the keys were in the drawer with them and you shoved them in your pocket.”

“That’s right!”

“And you haven’t seen them since?” Regan asked.

Alfred shook his head. “No.”

“Did you hand out any cards that night?”

Alfred smiled. “Lots of them. You never know who’s going to fall in love and suddenly need one of Alfred and Charisse’s gorgeous gorgeous gowns.”

Oh great, Regan thought. You handed out business cards to strangers in the same place you lost your keys. Something told her that she and Jack would be taking a drive to Atlantic City.

In the Upper East Side bank that was having about as bad a day as a bank could, Jack was studying the note the robber had passed to a young female teller.

DON’T PUSH ANY BUTTONS OR SOUND ANY ALARMS. JUST GIVE ME THE MONEY. I’VE GOT A GUN IN MY KNAPSACK AND AM WILLING TO USE IT ON YOUR CUSTOMERS. NO FUNNY MONEY OR YOU’LL BE SORRY.

Jack shook his head. “It looks like it’s written by our guy.”

“It certainly does,” remarked Ed Meredith, one of the investigators from Jack’s office. “Same language. Same handwriting. Same kind of paper and ink.”

“I’m beginning to think we’ll have to post undercover agents at every bank in the city when rain is predicted,” Jack said with disgust.

Ed smiled wryly. “April showers bring May flowers.”

“Let’s hope that’s all they bring. You have the security tapes?”

“We’re getting them.”

In the back office, the striking young African-American teller who was the recipient of the robber’s note was sitting in a chair, trying to regain her composure. She was fidgeting, moving her hands from her lap to her hair, which was arranged in stylish cornrows and decorated with colorful beads, and back to her lap again. They were the hands that had touched the note and forked over the money. And now her hands couldn’t rest. With wide eyes, she looked up at Jack when he walked through the door.

Jack identified himself and asked her in a soothing tone, “How are you doing?”

“Fine and dandy. Lucky me gets to be the teller the bank robber picks on. Just my luck. Why can’t I win the lottery?”

Jack smiled. “Maybe you will.”

“Well, I’m not taking any more chances around here. I quit.”

“You did?”

“The second that robber walked out the door!”

“I can understand.”

“It’s not worth it. I’m getting married in a couple of months. I got a lot of good times ahead of me. I’d rather flip burgers than worry about another lowlife who says he has a gun.”

Jack sat down across from her. “I’m getting married, too,” he said, anxious to make a connection.

“You are?”

“Yes. Next week. And my fiancée’s dress was just stolen from her dressmaker’s loft downtown.”

The teller’s eyes lit up. “That’s bad. Not as bad as thinking someone might shoot you. But it’s bad. When are you getting married?”

“Next Saturday.”

“Next Saturday! How come she didn’t pick up her dress before now? My mother is guarding mine at home with her dear life. She’s afraid something bad is going to happen to it. The day before she married my father, one of her bridesmaids’ kids went into my mom’s bedroom with a box of crayons.” She managed a smile. “I can just imagine the fireworks that day.”

“Now that is bad,” Jack said, smiling back at her. He was glad to see that she was beginning to relax.

“So how come your fiancée waited so long to pick up her dress?”

“Huh? Oh. Well, she’s been living in Los Angeles, so she’s just back and…”

“Long distance romance? That’s no good.”

Now Jack’s smile was broad. “No it’s not. The long distance part is finally over.”

“My fiancé, Jamie, lives three blocks away from me. He says that three blocks feels like forever. He should be here soon. He’s a nervous wreck.”

“I would be, too,” Jack said sincerely, thinking of Regan. He was always worried about her, and in her line of work, there was usually good reason. He leaned forward and glanced again at the girl’s name tag. “ Tara, may I call you that?”

“It’s my name,” she answered. “I don’t know what else you’d call me.”

Jack raised his eyebrows. “ Tara it is then.” He paused. “Could you just go over with me exactly what happened? Tell me everything you remember. Even if a detail seems trivial, it could be important.”

Tara nodded and took a sip from the glass of water that a co-worker had brought to her. “I’m sitting here all morning taking care of customers. It was busy. Next thing I know I hear a clap of thunder and it starts to rain. Really hard. We all started joking with each other. We were mad because we close at one and we thought it would be a beautiful afternoon to have off. My fiancé, Jamie, was supposed to pick me up. We were going to Home Depot to look at kitchen cabinets for our new apartment. Next thing I know there’s a black-gloved hand pushing a note through my window.” She paused. “You read it?”

“Yes.”

“No matter how much they train you, you’re never prepared for something like this. I slid that money over the counter so fast it would make your head spin. My heart was thumping in my chest so hard, I thought everyone in the bank could hear it. I was so scared I felt like I was having one of those out-of-body experiences-it was as if I was floating up toward that ugly ceiling out there while I watched myself going through the motions down below.”

“What did the robber look like?” Jack asked quietly.

“He was white with a dark mustache and beard, and had on oversized tinted glasses. I couldn’t see his eyes, but he had big bushy eyebrows. Not that I looked that hard. It all happened so fast. I was afraid to make eye contact once I read the note. But he was wearing dark clothes and a black raincoat with the hood up.”