SHOULD DEATH DO US PART

By William N Evans and Marion Designs

Philadelphia homicide detective, Bruce Wallace.Joines forces with the F.B.I. special agent Craig Hines in pursuit of a villainous bank robbery crew responsible for a string of heist and murders.Lloyd Anderson is the brains behind the gang.His mission is to acquire enough money to pay for the heart transplant so desperately needed to keep his son

• Language: English
• Publisher: clearvisionpublications
• Release date: Aug 3, 2015
• ISBN: 9780986174810

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

What a perfect morning to rob a bank, Lloyd thought to himself as he waited patiently inside a stolen SUV. The weather forecast had just come across the radio waves: partly cloudy skies with a fifty percent chance of rain. He was parked beside Citibank in downtown Philadelphia as he waited for Tonya, one of the bank tellers, to arrive and assist her co-worker, Mary, with opening the bank’s doors.

Ok! Its game time and everything is going down as planned, Lloyd whispered as he reached inside his glove compartment for the George W. Bush rubber mask he’d purchased on sale at Wal-Mart. Next To Bill Clinton’s, it was one of the store’s most controversial masks in all America.

As Lloyd glanced at his watch to check the time, the number 31 bus pulled up and came to a complete stop. The bus doors opened and Tonya, a light skinned long-legged sistah with her hair pulled back into a pony tail, emerged from the bus and headed towards the front doors of Citibank. The branch was scheduled to open in less than sixty seconds. Lloyd knew that because he’d studied the bank’s protocols inside and out.

From his position, he couldn’t be seen by the female teller, Mary, who was opening the glass front door. Mary was a Caucasian woman with features like Paris Hilton. She stepped outside for a moment so that Tonya could enter.

Damn! You’re rude, Tonya said to Mary who simply frowned as if Tonya had just placed a bad taste in her mouth.

What’s that awful smell? Mary asked, referring to the perfume Tonya wore.

It’s your ass! Tonya replied with an attitude. Now excuse me. I have work to do. She bypassed Mary and entered the bank. Unfortunately, the two could never stand each other. From the moment she met Tonya, Mary had considered her to be nothing more than a high school drop out with a GED, who happened to have stumbled upon a good job.

Lloyd slipped on a small backpack and gloves. He grabbed his mask and stealthily exited the SUV. When he was a few steps from Mary, he put on the mask and immediately stepped inside the doorway behind the two women, startling them both. He knew their names because Tonya was not only his inside connection, but his girlfriend as well. He pulled out his gun and pressed it against the small of Mary’s back. She tried to run, but he grabbed her and encircled one arm around her waist from behind.

Lock the door Mary. And don’t try that shit again, bitch, unless you’re ready to die. We’re going to see your boss, Mrs. Collins, he ordered.

Mary locked the door, wondering how he could have known her name.

I don’t want to kill you or your friend, Mary, he warned, pausing and giving Tonya a long stare to assure her that the threat was all part of the plan. Without a flicker of an eyelash, Tonya’s eyes signaled that she understood.

But I will, he continued, in a heartbeat if either of you try anything crazy. He waved the gun around while looking into Mary’s frightened eyes. Tonya pretended to be scared, too.

Do you understand? he asked them in a harsh whisper.

Mary nodded, her full blond hair, cut short to enhance her beauty, bobbed from side to side with the movement of her head.

I can’t hear you Mary, Lloyd said menacingly, shoving the barrel of his gun deeper into her back.

Yes, I do understand. Please don’t hurt me, she pleaded.

Good, he said with a nasty smile. Okay, let’s go to the boss’ office. The robbery had to play out exactly as planned to the final second, Lloyd is thinking as he quickly glanced at his watch.

The two tellers led the way. Lloyd continued to torment the ladies with his gun, poking and prodding them along the way. With the heel of his hand, he shoved Mary into the manager’s office. There was a loud thumping sound as Mary landed on the floor. Tonya entered the room after Mary with a mild shove from behind by Lloyd. The manager, Mrs. Sarah Collins, looked up from her computer, stunned and not believing what she was seeing.

Don’t look at me like that, Lloyd snapped. You know exactly what I want. Now open the safe, he ordered the manager, who stared at him wide-eyed with surprise and fear. She seemed frozen in place, staring at the rubber mask covering his face. Mary had picked herself up off the floor and stood there trembling, wondering what would happen next. Tonya crossed both arms over her chest, as if hugging herself in comfort.

Open it now! he shouted, pointing his gun directly in her face.

I can’t open the vault, she protested. It automatically opens when a computer signal is transmitted from the main office in New York. It never opens without that signal.

Call home, he ordered, with a twisted look on his face. The manager looked at him in confusion. Why would he want her to call home?

Bitch! I said call home...now! He pointed the gun towards her head and without a second thought she dialed the number and a strange voice answered.

Who is this? she nervously asked.

I suggest you do as my friend says, the voice said. Then the next voice she heard was her husband Jim.

Honey it’s me, Jim. There’s a man here in our house. He has a gun pointed at me and Cee-Cee. Jim exhaled. He says that unless the man in your office leaves the bank with the money by exactly eight-fifteen, Cee-Cee and I will be killed. Mrs. Collins could feel her heart pounding a mile a minute.

Please, don’t let them kill my Cee-Cee! Mrs. Collins cried.

You’re worried about a goddamn dog? What about me! Jim shouted before the mystery man snatched the phone back and said, It’s eight-ten. You have five minutes.

The phone went dead. Her husband’s voice was gone. My Cee-Cee. My poor little, sweet innocent Cee-Cee, she moaned as tears flowed from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. She stared at the masked man, not believing what was happening.

Don’t hurt them, please. I’ll open the vault for you. I’ll do it. Just don’t hurt anyone. She was so nervous that she couldn’t think straight. Her mind was clouded and confused and all she could hear was her husband Jim’s voice in her mind.

It’s eight-twelve; two minutes are gone, and you now have three minutes and no tricks. No silent alarms. No dye packs and no GPS tracking devices. You got it?

She nodded again and led them to the vault, which resembled a polished, steel fortress. It was now eight-thirteen and it took her less than two minutes to open the vault’s huge door. Inside was filled with stacks and stacks of money, in plain view, on nearly every shelf. Lloyd shrugged off the backpack and pulled out 2 folded canvas duffel bags. He shook them open and with one hand, began filling them with cash. The women watched in total silence. He kept his gun leveled at them the entire time. Finally, he finished.

I’m locking y’all in the vault. Don’t say one word or I’ll shoot all three of y’all and lock you in here. Tonya looked at him as if he’d gone crazy. She didn’t recall this being in the script.

I’m claustrophobic, Tonya said, testing him to see how serious he was about locking her up too.

You’re staying with them, Lloyd replied as he hoisted the bags up and onto each of his shoulders.

Please don’t hurt my Cee-Cee, or my husband. You have what you want, Mrs. Collins cried out.

Lloyd backed out, with the gun still pointed at them, and slammed the heavy metal door with his gloved hands. He quickly walked through the empty bank with the two duffel bags and backpack. When he reached the glass doors, he stopped and looked outside. No one was about. He opened the door and stepped out, yanking the mask from his sweaty face. He walked calmly down the street towards his car, as if he didn’t have a care in the world on this cool, cloudy morning. Lloyd reached the stolen SUV and checked his watch. It was eight twenty-five. He was late, but decided not to call Steve until the money was safe and secure.

Cheryl Wallace and her best friend Brenda talked as she added a half cup of brown sugar to her dinner’s sweet potatoes. Cheryl was the wife of Detective Bruce Wallace.

Girl, them candied yams smell like they’re working with a little sumthin’ sumthin’. How long will it be before dinner is served? I’m starving, Brenda said, watching her friend as she checked the baked lamb cooked with rosemary leaves.

Chile you just ate lunch. Now either you’re packing a small bundle of joy inside of that oven of yours or you’re trying to eat me out of house and home, Cheryl teased.

It’s called having the munchies, by way of that good ‘ol stuff they call purple haze," Brenda laughs.

You are entirely too damn old to be smokin’ weed, Cheryl said, stirring the pot of greens on top of the stove.

I suggest you catch up on the news. According to scientists, marijuana is the leading cure for depression, and girl one puff of this, and ka-boom! Your troubles are gone, Brenda laughed.

I may have to try a puff or two.

No! What you need on the real is a puff of this and a nice hard dick in ya life. You need someone to come beat it up Gurl, Brenda advised, waving her hands back and forth, pretending to smack some ass.

I don’t want nobody to beat it up and neither should you. I need a man to take his time and make love to me.

It sounds to me like Bruce ain’t been handling his business, Brenda guessed.

Is it that damn obvious? Cheryl asked, embarrassed.

Chile, I know when a woman is satisfied and you don’t look satisfied, Brenda responded as Cheryl handed her a big plate of food. It’s about time you fixed a sistah something to eat. I was about to eat my damn tongue.

If you do that, you can’t talk no more shit, Cheryl laughed.

They say, If you can’t stand to hear the truth, then get the hell out the kitchen," Brenda said around a mouth full of greens.

If you’re going to quote something, then at least quote it right. It’s if you can’t stand the heat, then get the hell out the kitchen," Cheryl corrected.

Well, as Nelly said, It’s gettin’ hot in ‘ere." They both shared a long laugh as Cheryl sat down with her plate of food.

Okay, all joking aside - I mean, if Bruce doesn’t get his act together and start taking care of your needs, you need to find some guy who will, Brenda said, chewing on a piece of succulent lamb.

I’m married and married people don’t go out to find somebody who will, Cheryl said, pushing her food around on her plate.

Hello! We’re living in the twenty-first century and times have changed. Yes the hell they do! Shit, everyone has a jump-off now days. Women aren’t lying around like mummies any more or waiting on some soft dick husband to decide that it’s time to buy Viagra.

I know Bruce loves me, Cheryl said slowly.

And you’re probably right, but so does the Pope and honey, love ain’t everything.

Okay. You may have a point. But there’s nothing greater than that mental love, Cheryl said.

You’re kidding, right? Well try telling that to the itch between your legs.

Cheryl allowed her mind to roam for a minute and before she could reply, Brenda jumped in.

My point exactly. Now I suggest you stop playing little Ms. Muffin and go out every now and then to mingle and jingle a bit. I know this great singles bar where all the cute guys hang out, Brenda suggested as she finished her meal.

Once again, married people don’t mingle and jingle, Cheryl reminded Brenda, primly.

Can you get off this married bullshit for one moment and hear me out. I’m sick and tired of you sitting around inside of this house doing absolutely nothing other than eat, sleep, clean, and watch The Young & the Restless, Brenda argued. Now I want you to consider going out with me to have yourself a good time for a change."

Girl, I’d be in the way if I go out with you. I can’t dance and damn sure can’t wear them tight-assed clothes that I see them hoochie-mama’s wearing, Cheryl said with disdain.

Brenda reached out and caressed Cheryl’s hand in understanding. "Trust me. Times have changed and people don’t dance no more; they lean with it. Brenda laughed. And as far as clothes, you have a great body, so anything you decide to wear will look great on you."

Cheryl removed her hand, and stood up to begin cleaning the dishes. The two had been best friends since high school, so Brenda knew exactly how her friend was feeling and knew that it was just a matter of time before she said yes. So she waited.

Ok, Brenda. You did enough convincing. I just might take you up on your offer, Cheryl said. Brenda smiled.

CHAPTER 2

Detective Bruce Wallace and his partner, James Wilson, sat inside the office, among the other detectives who had been assigned to the area, working on their computers. Wilson was a bald-headed version of Shaft, but younger.

James, did I show you the girls Facebook page? Detective Wallace asked, referring to his daughters Mia, Tiffa and Chahera, a daughter he fathered before he and Cheryl were married.

Yes, a thousand and one times, Wilson replied, smirking without taking his eyes off the computer screen. Wallace continued to talk.

They just emailed me a birthday shout-out, Wallace announced with a big smile.

I didn’t know today was your B-day, Wilson said, taking his eyes off the computer screen for a brief second to look over at Wallace.

Neither did I, Wallace laughed. I guess once you reach that certain age you stop keeping track.

Yeah, but you’re not that old. Wilson paused then asked, Or are you?

Flattery will get you lunch, Wallace replied with a laugh.

In that case, you actually do look young, Wilson responded quickly. They both burst out laughing. Wallace decided to change the course of the conversation.

You know, ever since the girls went off to college, there really hasn’t been anything at home for me to do but watch TV with the wife.

You’re kiddin’ me, right? Wilson said in surprise. I’m sure with a beautiful wife like Cheryl, there’s plenty for you to do around the house, if you know what I mean, Wilson said with a devilish grin.

No comment, Wallace said as Agent Craig Hines from the F.B.I. arrived. He was carrying a colorfully wrapped present with a red ribbon and a handful of balloons, each with letters which collectively spelled Happy Birthday Wallace.

Hines and Wallace were very close friends who started off as cops in New York and somehow split to pursue different careers. Hines remained in New York while Wallace migrated to Philadelphia to become a homicide detective.

Happy birthday partner, Hines said with a warm smile as Wallace stood to accept the gifts. Go head and open it, Hines said with a grin as he tied the balloons to Wallace’s chair. Wallace unwrapped and opened the box to see a brand new nickel-plated .45 semi-automatic weapon. His eyes lit up like a child’s on Christmas.

I like it...I like it! Wallace said in satisfaction, admiring the gift. How did you remember? Wallace asked before passing the weapon to Wilson to check out.

This is a nice piece of machinery, Wilson observed.

Only the best for my friend, Hines replied.

Craig, I’d like for you to meet my partner, James Wilson, Wallace said, introducing the two. Wilson extended his hand and Hines shook it.

It’s a pleasure, Hines said.

Have a seat, Wallace offered Hines, pointing at a vacant chair beside his desk. As Hines took a seat, Wallace had that gut feeling that his visit wasn’t just for the sole purpose of celebrating his birthday.

So, besides you traveling all the way up here from New York to celebrate my birthday, what else brings you here to the city of Brotherly Love?

Multiple homicides, Hines revealed, causing both Wallace and Wilson to raise an eyebrow. He had been transferred from New York to Philly to help capture a two-man bank robbery assassination team. The F.B.I received a tip that the men responsible for committing the state-to-state robberies were from the Philadelphia area. Wallace and Wilson waited for him to continue.

I’m sure you heard about the Citibank heist, which occurred right here in downtown Center City?

Wallace and Wilson both confirmed with a simple nod of the head.

Well, the bank manager’s husband and their pooch were murdered in cold blood.

Yeah, we heard. What I can’t figure out is what the hell happened at the manager’s home? The bandits had the money, right? So why did they kill the hostages? Wallace asked, seeking an answer.

Maybe, someone forgot to inform the side-kick that they had the money and his partner made it out the bank safe and sound, Hines theorized. But he was puzzled too.

Okay, so this is Federal business. What do you want from me? Wallace asked, curiously.

We received a tip that our robbing crew might be living right here underneath your nose, and I need your assistance to help me track these guys down before they kill again, Hines said. But Wallace’s curiosity wasn’t completely satisfied.

Why me? he asked.

Three reasons: One, you’re my friend; two, no one knows the city better than you and three, you owe me a favor.

Wallace remained silent. He knew he couldn’t abandon his longtime friend, but then he thought about his wife Cheryl. If I accept this job, she’ll have a damn fit.

Earth to Bruce! Come in Bruce! Hines called out, breaking into Wallace’s chain of thought.

Yeah, yeah, I’m here. What kind of evidence do we have to work with? At this point, he’d basically made up his mind to accept the job.

We suspect an inside job on this one. A teller was caught a month ago, rummaging through the manager’s purse. Hines pulled out his notes. The manager, a Mrs. Sarah Collins, claimed she had inadvertently left her purse on her desk during a restroom break. When she returned, she saw one of the tellers leaving her office. She further states that when she checked her purse, although nothing was taken, her driver’s license wasn’t in its usual place in her wallet.

Could Mrs. Collins identify the teller? If so, have you made contact with the teller? Wallace asked.

Yes, she knew which teller it was. I checked the address that was listed on the job application, but it turned out to be fictitious, Hines read from his notes.

You may be onto something. These large bank jobs almost always have an inside connection, Wallace said as silence slipped between them.

So is that a yes or no? Hines asked, seizing the moment.

Wallace paused then said, Yes, I’ll help you but Cheryl is not going to like it. Not one damn bit!

I’m glad you decided to help me on this one, Hines said gratefully as he stood and they shook hands. I’m sure you’re the right man for the job. He turned quickly and left before Wallace could have a change of heart.

As soon as Hines left the room, Wallace glanced at James and asked, What kind of mess have I gotten us into?

Us! Must I remind you that I’m State not Federal, James exclaimed as he headed over to the coffee pot.

Welcome to the big league partner, Wallace said.

Bruce, I’m warning you, do not include me in this investigation, Wilson warned as Wallace grabbed his coat and headed out the door.

Lloyd parked on a quiet street. A full moon cast a light-gray shade across the sky as he exited the vehicle carrying a box of Krispy Creme doughnuts, one of Tonya’s favorite snacks. He strolled by several abandoned row-houses on his way to Tonya’s home, which was approximately three houses from the end of the block. He stepped up onto the porch and rang the bell. A cat could be seen sitting inside on her windowsill. Moments later, Tonya finally came to the door, wearing only an extra-large Michael Vick throw-back jersey.

It’s about damn time you showed up with my cash, she said in between popping gum inside of her mouth. Lloyd stepped inside and passed her the box of doughnuts as she closed the door behind him.

I don’t want no fuckin’ doughnuts. I want some cash, she said with an attitude. The cat jumped down from the windowsill and sat at Lloyd’s feet. He leaned down just enough to rub the cat across its head. Tonya tossed the box of doughnuts on top of the coffee table, flopping back down on the couch to continue watching the Eagles and Dallas game on her 60 inch plasma widescreen.

Who’s winning? he asked as he took a seat beside her on the couch.

Surprisingly, the Eagles are, Tonya replied, reaching for the box of doughnuts. She immediately ripped the box open and retrieved a cream filled doughnut.

Ummm. These are the best doughnuts in the world, she moaned between chews.

Oh! But don’t think I forgot about my money, especially after locking me inside that damn safe! That shit wasn’t cool at all. I thought my ass was about to die and that bitch kept crying about her dog in my ear. She paused. Now where’s my break down?

Lloyd reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out two envelopes filled with cash, handing them to her. She looked at the envelopes then looked at him as if he’d gone crazy.

What the hell is this? she asked without taking or looking inside the envelopes.

It’s ten thousand inside of each envelope, he said.

That’s all I get? After all that damn work I did! she snapped. Shit! I can’t buy me a new car with twenty thousand plus pay my bills without being broke afterwards. She continued to complain as Lloyd listened with boredom.

Don’t even try to play me like dat! I know how much money was taken so you need to reach back inside of your pocket and pull out another stack of cash.

Lloyd exhaled then shouted, You dumb bitch! Twenty thousand is more than enough money for your part in the robbery. And you can’t jump right out there to buy a new car after the bank where you work was robbed. How stupid can you be?

I’m not damn stupid enough to accept twenty thousand dollars after y’all just copped over two hundred thousand, she rolled her eyes. Shit! Without me stealing the bitch’s address, you wouldn’t have shit. Which reminds me to ask you, why did your friend have to kill her husband and the damn dog? I thought you said no one would get hurt. He ignored her. She took another bite from her doughnut before she continued to complain. So, what’s up with my cash?

How much do you think you’re supposed to get? he asked.

At least a three-way split. Her reply caused him to shift in his seat.

You must’ve lost your fuckin’ mind, he said incredulously, leaning forward. You ain’t done shit but grab a damn address. Anybody, and I mean anybody, would have done that for that price.

Tonya began to rub her throat. She coughed repeatedly then gasped loudly, Aaaagh! Aaaagh! Her throat and chest were burning. She couldn’t breathe; she tried to stand, but immediately fell back onto the couch as her body began jerking in some sort of spasm. Her face had taken on a dark hue.

Lloyd stood while he and the cat watched in amazement. The paralysis from the poison he’d injected into the doughnuts was progressive and extremely painful. It took total control of her facial muscles and the glottis in the back of her throat. Tonya obviously couldn’t swallow. Finally, it affected her respiratory organs. A high enough dosage of the drug will lead to cardiac arrest and in Tonya’s case, instant death.

He leaned down and whispered into her ear, See what happens when you’re greedy. All you had to do was eat one doughnut and you would have lived. But naah! You had to eat four. Now look at you. He retrieved the two envelopes from the couch, using a sheet of tissue from the doughnut box to open the door before leaving the house.

Cheryl was so upset about her husband’s decision to cancel their vacation to accept another big case that she was at a loss for words. Their marriage was already on the brink of destruction due to Wallace spending most of his time on the job and less time at home. She was now screening her calls; checking Caller ID so that she didn’t answer the phone if, and when, he called.

Wallace, on the other hand, was hurt behind her actions. Yet, the more he thought about the Citibank heist the more troubled and confused he became. He just could not understand their reasons behind murdering the manager’s family when they had the money.

Shit! Wallace cursed as he and Wilson patrolled the street from their unmarked car. Wilson was driving.

What’s the problem?

Wallace tossed his cell phone on the seat beside him in disgust. It’s Cheryl. She’s not accepting my calls, Wallace said with a frown.

So you’re back in the dog-house, Wilson teased. What happened now?

She’s upset behind my decision to accept this case.

Then don’t, Wilson suggested. It’s not really our jobs to do, so why not just let the Feds deal with it.

Wallace ignored him. What kind of cruel and evil minded men are they? he