to end, Tess? You think she’s not going to scream this all to the heavens? Maybe even run to the police?” When I don’t budge, he sighs. “Look, for now, until this is all resolved, she stays here, locked up in a room. It’ll probably be up to Rusty to decide her fate, but for right now, you and I have forty minutes to get to the bank.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Tess—
Hayley drives us to the bank. Gypsy’s riding shotgun, and I’m in the backseat, trying not to hyperventilate. I don’t know why walking into this bank and pretending to be my mother is scarier than the fight that happened at the house, but it is. If they catch me, I could go to jail, and after all my visits to Rutledge, I’m terrified of that happening to me.
I suck in a breath and slowly blow it out my mouth.
Gypsy twists in his seat. “You okay?”
I take another deep breath and nod.
Hayley pulls in the lot and parks.
Gypsy reaches back and grabs my hand. “It’ll be fine. All they’re thinking about now is how close to quitting time it is. Anything goes wrong, just run out the door. We’ll get your mother to do it.”
I nod, knowing that involves checking her out of rehab, and I don’t want anything to disrupt the progress she’s making. I pull the handle and shoulder the door open.
The inside of the bank is cool. There’s one customer at the counter arguing about overdraft fees. A young teller who is free smiles at me.
“May I help you, Miss?”
“Yes, ma’am. I need to get in my safe deposit box.” I hold up my key.
“I’ll just need to see your identification.”
I hand it to her. She barely glances at it before passing it back.
“Thank you ma’am. Right this way.”
I follow her into a vault. Boxes line the walls like post office mailboxes.
“The bank is installing a new biometric security system next week, so next time you come they’ll set you up for that, and all you’ll have to do is use your fingerprint to get access.”
One more week, and I would have been screwed.
She moves to the box numbered 322 and inserts her bank key into one of the two locks. Then she steps back for me to insert mine into the other.
I do, and she opens the door, pulls out the box, and sets it on the counter in the middle of the room.
“There you are. You’ll have the room to yourself until you’re through.” She points to a button on the wall. “Just ring this buzzer when you’re ready to leave.”
“Thank you.”
After she exits and closes me in, I stare at the box. It’s one of the bigger ones. “Please let there be money in this,” I whisper and flip up the lid.
There’s a large brown drawstring bag stuffed inside. I grab it and lift it out, setting it on the table. It’s about the size of a five-pound bag of sugar and about as heavy.
I peer in the box and notice several items were underneath it. A ring box, an old watch, a ledger, and a couple of jump drives. I frown, wondering if it’s club business.
Giving my attention back to the bag, I yank open the drawstring and peer inside to find stacks of banded bills. Yes! I scream silently in my mind and pull one out. It’s a stack of one hundred dollar bills, and the paper band reads ten thousand dollars. I pull the rest out and line them up on the counter. There are twenty of them. I count it up twice just to be sure, because I’m suddenly, feeling light-headed. That’s two hundred thousand dollars!
Holy crap! I don’t know what I expected to find, but not this much.
I stuff it in the bag and shove it in my shoulder tote. Then I peer in at the other things. I pop open the ring box, and my eyes widen. It’s a huge wedding ring. I frown, remembering my mother once told me that when Growler’s mother died, he stole her wedding ring off her finger on her deathbed. It had been a ring that was supposed to go to his sister, whom he always hated. That would be my aunt Kathy, who I only met once. If she hadn’t died several years ago, I would return this to her. I stare at the sparkling diamond ring. It’s gorgeous with a big center stone surrounded by a ring of smaller ones. If it’s real,