Key Witness. Christy Barritt

the situation. Two men. Black masks. Guns.

      Elle knew that only two tellers were working right now, and that the manager had just left for a late lunch—Elle had passed him on her way in. Three other customers had also sunk to the floor. A frail-looking older woman, a college-aged girl and Denton. The dark-haired man had been in line behind her today. She knew Denton’s name, only because they often came to the bank on the same days, same times. Over the weeks, they’d been flirtatious as they passed time in line.

      Today, they’d only begun their casual teasing of each other when the robbers had burst through the doors of StoneCrest Bank on General Booth Blvd. in Virginia Beach, Virginia. At the moment, Elle glanced at Denton. He sat only a few feet away. His perceptive eyes met hers, silently communicating the urgency of the situation. Something about his calm gaze made her racing heart slow for a moment.

      The shorter of the two robbers locked the glass doors at the front of the bank. He then stepped between the customers, the barrel of his gun bouncing against his black pants. The second robber, the one who’d ordered everyone to the ground, rushed toward the tellers, a bag in hand. “If you do what we say, no one will get hurt.”

      The first robber—Shortie, Elle nicknamed him—kicked Elle’s purse back to her, sending more lipstick and pens rolling everywhere. “Give me your cell phones. If anyone even tries to call the police, I’ll...I’ll kill you.”

      A shudder ripped down Elle’s spine, and her hands trembled as she riffled through her purse. Most of the contents lay askew, but her cell phone remained lodged in one of the deep pockets, refusing to budge. The device seemed to hang on tighter as Shortie loomed over her.

      “Come on, lady!”

      Finally, she jerked the phone from its hideout. Its metal burned in her hands, reminding her that this was her lifeline to the outside world. If only she could call the police...

      No, let them get their money and get out of here, she told herself. Be compliant. That’s what security experts always said. If only she weren’t so bad at embracing compliance. Still, she was levelheaded enough to know when to back off.

      She shoved her phone into Shortie’s gloved hand. He grunted as he snatched it from her. Once all the phones were collected in a black bag, the man laid them on the counter at the center of the bank.

      Julie, the young teller behind the counter, raised her hands in the air. Her eyes stretched wide with fear. “Whatever you want. Just don’t hurt anyone.”

      The other robber, the ringleader, Elle thought, shoved his gun at the teller. “I want all of the money in your drawer. If the police show up right now, you’ll be the first one I take out.”

      Just do what they say, Elle prayed. Then maybe they would leave. The police could come and get some fingerprints and take eyewitness accounts. The justice system would be the heroes when they tracked down the robbers. Elle prayed that no one would try to be heroic and end up making the situation worse for all of them.

      “What are you doing?” Ringleader shouted at Julie.

      Elle wanted nothing more than to lay a steady hand on the young woman’s shoulder and encourage her to just do what the man said. Instead, Elle hunkered down on the cool floor, her back against the wall. The best thing she could do would be to remain quiet and unseen.

      Shortie paced over to her, his job obviously to guard the customers as Ringleader grabbed the money.

      Elle tried to remember each detail so she could tell the police when they arrived. She soaked in the robbers’ demeanors, their clipped words, the color of their eyes. As a campaign manager for her father’s senate reelection bid, she was paid to pay attention to details. Shortie’s gaze darted toward Elle, and she sucked in a breath, waiting to see what he would do.

      Don’t make this any worse than it has to be, buddy.

      He waved his gun at her, and Elle noticed his hand trembling. The man was a novice at this. Was that a good or bad thing? The other man, Ringleader, didn’t seem nervous at all.

      “I need more money than that. Open the other drawers!” Ringleader leaned toward Julie, his gun aimed at her temple.

      Julie shook her head, tears glimmering in her eyes. “I can’t. I don’t have their keys!”

      “What do you mean, you don’t have their keys? Can’t you get them?”

      “Only the branch manager has access to all the keys. You have to have them to open the drawers.” Tears glistened in her eyes.

      “You’re messing with me! Just get the keys, give me the money and nobody gets hurt.”

      Denton’s strong, steady voice broke through the mayhem. “Can I see if I can help her?”

      Shortie pointed his gun at him. “You know something about banks?”

      Denton raised his hands. “No, but I want to help. You’re making her nervous. Maybe I can help her open the drawer.”

      The gun trembled in Shortie’s hands. “I want you to stay right where you are.”

      “I just don’t want anyone to get hurt.” Denton’s gaze remained level and even.

      Elle had to admire Denton’s calm demeanor. She glanced at him again, at the chisel of his features, at the dark hair that formed the shadow of a beard across his face. Dark, thick hair. Tall, broad form. Put it all together, and he was the picture-perfect definition of a heartbreaker.

      Elle noted that Denton wasn’t wearing his customary suit and tie today. Instead, he’d donned a black jacket over a T-shirt and jeans. In all of their casual conversation, Elle had never thought to ask him what he did for a living. Perhaps he was in law enforcement of some sort? How else could he be so calm in this situation?

      Ringleader pointed his gun at the other teller. “Put your money in now!” The teller filled his bag, but then he turned his attention back to Julie. “Figure out how I can get more money.” He reached over and grabbed Elle’s arm, pulling her to her feet. The gun went to her head. “Do it now or she dies.”

      Elle gasped and trembles overtook her.

      “Calm down,” Denton said. He still leaned against the wall, his knees propped up, his voice and movement as calm and controlled as if he were merely talking everyone else through a training exercise. “Let her go.”

      Ringleader paced over to him, Elle in tow. “Are you in charge here? I didn’t think so. You’re going to be next if you don’t keep your mouth shut.”

      Elle’s throat burned. She was acutely aware of the gun at her temple. One accidental jerk of the finger and she’d be dead, just like that.

      There was so much she still wanted to do, needed to do. Life came into an odd and complete clarity when the end appeared close enough to touch. Her necklace, the one her grandmother gave her before she passed, seemed to sear into her skin at the moment. It reminded her that she’d made a promise to her grandmother that she still needed to fulfill.

      “I’m telling you—I can’t get into the other drawers or the vault. They’re all locked, and I don’t have the keys. The manager’s out to lunch.” Sweat glistened across Julie’s forehead.

      Something hard hit Elle in the face. She blanched before sinking to her knees. The robber quickly pulled her right back up. Her legs would hardly hold her. It didn’t matter. Ringleader held her up by her coat collar.

      Her cheek throbbed from where the man had pistol-whipped her. Tears rushed to her eyes as pain continued to send shocks through her.

      “That’s only the start of what’s going to happen if you don’t get me more money.” The man’s hot breath hit her cheek, along with a splattering of spittle.

      “Boss, you said no one would get hurt,” Shortie said.

      “I’ve got this. You shut your mouth and keep the crowd under control.”

      “Let