out,” Harrelson said. “I do love that girl, and that goddamn cannibal has her. I might have taken him on, but there were two guns and it only would have gotten all of us shot.”
“You did okay,” Lucas said. “Tell me the whole story, beginning with when they caught you in the garage.”
“I already told the FBI agents . . .”
“I want to hear you talk, see if I can fake the way you sound.”
“Oh. All right . . . Well, I pulled into my garage . . .”
As Harrelson spoke, Lucas turned the phone upside down so he could still hear him but could simultaneously practice the same accent. When Harrelson finished, Lucas said, “I hope I got it.”
“So do I. You gotta save Gloria, man. Those people are animals.”
“See you here at the bank,” Lucas said. “Nine o’clock.”
* * *
—
OFF THE PHONE, Lucas asked Tremanty, “How do I sound?”
“Like a Minnesotan trying to imitate George Bush.”
“Thank you.”
* * *
—
DEESE AND HIS CREW would know the bank didn’t open until nine, so the feds expected that Harrelson wouldn’t get a call until a bit before or after.
The bank’s employees began showing up a few minutes before eight and were taken aside, one at a time or in small groups, and briefed on what was about to happen. They were asked to turn off their cell phones until the agents told them it was all right to turn them on again. That caused some complaints, especially from parents who said they needed to check on school arrivals, and Tremanty agreed to allow necessary calls but only with an agent monitoring what was said. That generated some complaints about privacy, but Tremanty used quiet, friendly persuasion to tell them to go fuck themselves and their privacy issue.
Lucas: “I like the way you did that.”
“It’s how you would have done it . . . Go change clothes.”
He did, and when he came back the AIC whistled and said, “You’re so pretty, I might date you myself if I didn’t already have a wife.”
“I understand the attraction, but I’d never date a feeb,” Lucas said.
“Hate that word ‘feeb,’” Tremanty said.
“That’s why real cops call you that,” Lucas said.
* * *
—
HARRELSON WAS outside the doors at five minutes to nine, carrying a cloth shoulder bag. They let him stand there in the sun until exactly nine o’clock, when a security guard opened the doors and Harrelson walked in.
Lucas didn’t think they much resembled each other, except in size and coloring; Harrelson also had a bit of a gut, but that wouldn’t be hard to fake. He also had white gauze bandages on his forehead and cheek, which the feebs hadn’t thought about, but they rounded up the bank’s first aid kit and stuck some gauze on Lucas.
Lucas doubted that the Deese or his crew would risk getting close enough to see the differences. Harrelson had parked in the bank’s parking lot in the Yellow Cab Porsche and asked Lucas if he’d ever driven one.
“I’ve had 911s for twenty years, but I’ve never driven a Cayenne.”
“I’ve had both, it’s the same thing, you’ll be fine,” Harrelson said, as he handed over the car’s keys. “You can fake using the fob to unlock it, but I left it unlocked.”
He gave Lucas the golf hat and his cell phone and took a pile of clothes out of the shoulder bag—Harrelson would change into black slacks and a black shirt, with a straw hat, when he eventually left the bank.
Tremanty came up with a box full of bricks of cash and a black box the size of a cell phone—the GPS tracker. He loaded them into the bag, with the tracker at the bottom. The money looked good at a glance, but if anyone riffled them they’d immediately see the one-dollar bills under the hundreds. “Forty grand,” he said. “From Mr. Harrelson.”
“Don’t worry about taking care of it,” Harrelson told Lucas. “I wouldn’t mind getting it back. But if it gets away, I got more. Do what you have to do.”
Lucas nodded. “I’ve met a couple of relatives of kidnap victims. I’ve never seen anyone as cool as you are.”
“I make a lot of money as a gambler,” Harrelson replied. “You make money that way by dealing with the reality you actually get, not what you wish you’d get. I’m freaking out, though, I’m just not showing it. I’m trying to deal with the reality.”
“We’ll get her back,” Tremanty offered.
“Yeah, maybe,” Harrelson said. His face revealed nothing.