“It’s like they’re rotting right here in my hands,”he muttered at least twenty times on our way here, holding the case in his lap for no apparent reason, his nose permanently wrinkled in disgust.
The opulence of the bank is almost suffocating. Luxury drips from every detail, only the finest materials used to craft a hiding place for the riches of the criminal world.
The man behind the counter looks up when I stop before him, his practiced smile quickly morphing into unease.
“How may I help you today?” he asks in a polished tone.
“I’d like to access a deposit box.”
“What name is it?”
“Alex Fletcher.”
Confusion flickers across his face. “May I see some identification and the key, please?”
With a grimace, Broadway sets the case on the tall counter and makes a show of holding his breath while he inserts the key. The case pops open with a hiss, a cloud of icy fog clearing quickly to reveal the contents.
The man’s face pales further the longer he stares at the two blue eyes staring right back. Surprisingly, his voice remains steady, betraying this isn’t the first time he’s had the doubtful pleasure of seeing body parts in metal cases.
“Protocol requires that I consult with the branch manager. Please, wait here.”
Broadway snaps the case shut, green in the face as he inhales a sharp breath, quietly complaining about the foul smell. The battery-operated chiller is on its last legs after the three-hour drive from Chicago. I sure fucking hope the manager won’t keep us waiting too long; Broadway will projectile vomit across the counter if he opens the case again and the contents have completely defrosted.
“I have a feeling you wouldn’t be kept waiting if you were boss here in Ohio, Carter,” Broadway says, carefully settling the suitcase on the floor, away from his delicate nose. He wipes his hands down his pants as if that’ll magically clean them. “With all the shit happening lately, I think the idea’s worth pondering.”
“Maybe, but it’s neither the time, nor the place.”
The air thickens with tension while we wait. Two, five, ten minutes. My fingers tap a nervous beat against the marble, eyes sweeping the security cameras recording us from every angle.
“This has maybe twenty more minutes of battery life.” Broadway taps the case with his boot.
“It’s not like the contents will be instantly useless the moment the battery runs out, but it will smell worse, so...” Ryder snickers seeing all the color drain from Broadway’s face, even the green he sported for most of the ride here.
“The manager better hurry the fuck up,” he groans. “I expected more resistance. Security guards with guns, or some thugs trying to push us out of here. This almost feels a little...anticlimactic. The guy didn’t even ask for a death certificate! For all he knows, those eyes could belong to anyone.”
“You’re getting way ahead of yourself,” I say. “Instead of the manager, he might come back with security.”
“Now thatwould be climactic.”
“You sound frustrated, Broadway. Have you considered getting laid?” Ryder pipes in, studying his nails. “It helps.”
He’s about to add something else, but the receptionist returns, his face unreadable. “Mr. Chen will see you in his office.” He taps the code for the glass security door, holding it open for us. “Follow me.”
We do, passing three sets of security doors before entering a carpeted hallway lined with glass walls. The receptionist stops abruptly, ushering us inside a large, modern office where an older man sits by his desk, staring right at me over the rims of his rectangular glasses. I bet he’s had a good look at me over the surveillance system and, judging by the surprise marring his forehead, he’s wondering where he knows me from.
He stands, holding his hand out, his attention flickering between me and the case in Broadway’s hand. “Welcome, Mr...?”
“Willard. Carter Willard.”
Another flicker of recognition while we shake hands.
Surely, he knows my father. I guess what’s tripping him up is that Rhett Willard has a son.
“Tao Chen, I’m the manager here. Please, take a seat.” He points to two chairs opposite him.
Broadway immediately sets the case down, backing away to stand by the door with Ryder.
“I understand there’s a request to access Mr. Fletcher’s deposit box. I must inform you we have unparalleled security. I’d strongly advise against any... drastic actions.”
