Steven Havill - Scavengers

“Who’s the customer?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Who…is…the…customer?”

“Well,” and the receptionist hesitated. “I think it’s…well, I guess I don’t know who it is. It’s an older man.”

“Let me talk with Dottie, please. It’s an emergency.”

Once deviated from her cheerful, prepared phone message, the girl’s polite good humor was quick to fade. “Well, wait just a second.”

Torrez waited, gaze locked on Benny Madrid. The phone clicked and a pleasant voice came on the line. “This is Dottie.”

“Dottie, Bob Torrez. Sorry to interrupt, but I need a favor that can’t wait.”

“Well, you just name it,” Dottie said, her voice a rich contralto.

“Without being too obvious, can you tell me if Lucy Madrid is in your bank at the moment?”

There was a brief silence. “Sure. She’s here. Do you need to talk with her?”

“No, no. I sure don’t. Where is she?”

“She’s here in the bank.”

“No, I mean where in the bank?”

“She’s with Mary Tuttle, the head cashier. Is there some kind of problem, Bobby?”

“Is she alone?”

“No. There’s a young man with her. I think it’s her son. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen her boys, but I think that’s who it is.”

“How long ago did they come in, do you happen to know?”

“Oh gosh…I wasn’t paying attention. I just don’t know. It couldn’t have been too long now. We just opened…about eleven minutes ago.”

“Okay, thanks. Look, Dottie, I hate to do this to you, but it’s really important that we know the instant that they leave, all right?”

“Well, sure. Give me a number.”

“Let’s just leave this line open. I’ll hold.”

“Well, all right. Do I get to know what’s going on? Is there trouble we should know about?”

“How about not right now,” Torrez said. He turned and glanced at Estelle, who was frowning. Had Isidro been planning to simply rob the bank, there would have been no need to take his mother along-and he’d have been in and out of the bank in seconds. If his plan was to recover as much cash as he could without raising an alarm, he’d hatched himself a pretty good scheme…as long as the smell of all that cash just over the tellers’ counter didn’t trigger a change in plans.

“Just let us know when they head out the door. I appreciate it. I’m putting Estelle Guzman on the line.” He handed the cell phone to Estelle and said quietly, “I’ll get somebody rolling from that end.”

As Torrez picked up the café’s telephone and set it on the counter, Estelle turned so that she could watch Benny Madrid. The young man sat quietly, following the sheriff’s every move. His feet shifted as he tested the ankle ties, and she could see his shoulders hunch and then relax as he strained against the stainless steel cuffs behind his back.

“Where’s the rifle, Benny?” Torrez asked conversationally as he dialed the phone. Estelle locked her hand over the phone mouthpiece so Dottie wouldn’t hear, but Benny said nothing. “Isidro has it with him?” He lifted the receiver to his ear and waited. “Hey there,” he said when his wife Gayle answered at dispatch. “Who’ve we got on the road just now?”

“Dennis is on duty this morning,” Gayle Torrez said. “He’s standing right here with Tommy Pasquale, who isn’t on duty and should be home in bed. And Jack Adams is just heading out the door.”

“Holler at Jack for me.” She did so without covering the phone, and Torrez winced.

Gayle returned on the line. “You want to talk to him?”

Torrez could hear voices in the background, including New Mexico State Policeman Jack Adams’ west Texas drawl. “No. But we’re going to need him, so keep him close for a minute. Let me talk to Tom.”

“Here he be,” Gayle said.

“Yes, sir?” Tom Pasquale said.

“Your head on straight this morning?” Torrez asked.

“Sir?”

Torrez glanced over at Estelle, who shook her head. Life at Posadas State Bank was continuing apace. “Okay, this is the deal,” the sheriff said, and quickly filled the deputy in. “Now listen to me,” he said, and turned his back to Benny Madrid, walking the length of the phone cord toward the front window. His voice sank to little more than a murmur. “I don’t want any kind of confrontation at the bank, Thomas. I don’t want Isidro Madrid or his mother to see you, or to suspect that you’re anywhere nearby. I want that son of a bitch out of Posadas, away from people. I want him to walk out of that bank with his mother with all the money they want, and I want them to drive out of town. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“We’ve got an open phone line to the inside of the bank right now. Dottie Sandoval is watching for us. If you park over underneath the portico of Salazar’s Funeral Home, you’ll have a clear view of the front of the bank. Park in the shadows. I don’t want him to see you.”

“Got it.”

“When they leave town, I want you to follow way back. You understand me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“He can’t catch sight of you. If he does, Mama’s a dead goose.”

“Yes, sir.”

“When they reach Maria, I want you to drive right on through. He’s going to turn off, but don’t follow him. He’s going to be watching his back, and if he sees you, I don’t want him to panic. No fanfare, no slowing down. You drive right on through. Stop just beyond the village where that big arroyo is. All you’re going to do is keep us posted about what they’re doing when they leave the bank. My guess is that they’re going to head back out of town to the south, down Sixty-one. I’d be surprised if it’s anything else, but we gotta know. That’s all. Use the phone. I don’t know if that bastard has a scanner with him or not.”

“Yes, sir. I’m on my way.”

“Move it, now. And let me talk to Dennis.”

When he finally hung up, Torrez stood at the window for a long moment, and Estelle could tell by the expression on his face that he was replaying the game plan in his mind. Jack Adams of the State Police was already headed out of Posadas southbound on State 61, his black trooper car a blur of speed. He’d be far ahead of the Madrids, even if mother and son walked out of the bank that instant.

Deputy Dennis Collins had walked the few yards from the Public Safety Building to the small computer shop that faced the back door of Posadas State Bank, where employees or people wanting to talk to installment loan officers were apt to come and go. In the event of trouble, he could be across the street and into the bank in seconds. Tom Pasquale’s county unit was poised a hundred yards from the bank’s front door, waiting. And Lucy Madrid was taking her time remembering where her money was.

Torrez turned and walked over to Wally Madrid. “Where did they leave their car, Wally?”

“I don’t know.” He shook his head in wonder. “I never saw it. They walked into my station, and I never saw it. I never saw them coming.”

Torrez shook his head and looked at Benny Madrid. “Where’s your car?”

Madrid grunted something and looked at the wall, his lip curled.

With a shrug, Torrez held out his hand for the phone that Estelle held.

“No movement yet,” she said.

“That’s okay,” he said. “We’re in no rush. We need Naranjo’s unit out of sight. You might as well invite him in to join the fun. I’ll keep Dottie company.”

“Is there someone else you can call in to keep watch at the back of the bank besides Dennis?”

Torrez shook his head. “If I had half an hour, sure. But they’re not even going to go out the back door. Not to worry.”

“You hope.”