He stood near the front door, waiting for the police. From some back office, probably the employees’ lounge, she could hear the blond teller weeping dramatically and the other guy mumbling.
She crossed the lobby to Michaels. “So, could you reverse the transfer and get the money back?”
“No. I—” Sirens and the screech of tires interrupted. The police hadn’t had far to come. You could span the whole town in about five minutes.
The small bank filled with people. Three uniforms, six emergency personnel and a couple of plainclothes carrying satchels, probably doctors or crime scene techs. Who would guess there were this many people in Ellerton to respond to a call like this? It was comforting to see, given that her sister and her family lived here.
A pleasant-looking, heavyset man in a cheap suit entered and approached them. He removed his hat, revealing a silvery crew cut and a tan line on his high forehead. His bright blue eyes snapped with energy. She recognized him immediately and cringed.
“Hey, Ben,” the police chief said, glancing in the direction of the office where the paramedics were hovering. “Everybody okay?”
“Everybody but him,” Michaels said, gesturing idly toward the body.
The chief looked at her, head cocked to one side. “Miss, I’m Chief Talbert with the Ellerton police.” He cleared his throat and squinted. “Don’t I know you?”
Dani shrugged and tried to look innocent.
The chief’s eyes narrowed farther. “I need to interview y’all separately. Ben, you want to scram? I know you got things you need to do, calls to make and so forth, and we can talk later.”
“I do at that.” Turning to her, he said, “I’ll see you later. I’d like to speak with you again before you go.”
Dani nodded. His low-timbre voice had a newscaster quality to it, softened by a distinct Virginia accent. Nice, she thought. Exceptionally nice, when he wasn’t cussing or threatening. That tone matched his polished appearance.
Amazing, how unruffled he looked now. The only evidence of the altercation were his skinned knuckles and minute spatters of blood on his shirt. The man obviously had a tough side, one he masked well. Dani consciously made note of the fact that it was a really good-looking mask. No wrinkles, not even any laugh lines. Smooth. Almost mannequin smooth. She wondered if he was vain enough to be into Botox.
Her budding fascination must have shown as her gaze followed him, because the chief cleared his throat yet again, this time to get her attention.
Dani ignored him for another few seconds as she watched Michaels head for the other unoccupied office. She liked the way he moved, how he led with his left, leaned forward and swung one arm in a John Wayne kind of stride. But the Duke on his best day had never looked that good. She allowed herself a silent little whew before she looked away.
“Okay, here you go.” She reached into her pocket, fished out her badge folder and handed it over.
The chief took it and examined it closely. “Uh-huh. So you’re a special agent, division of Homeland Security.” His smile looked wary. “Wait a minute. Weren’t you with the FBI?” She saw recognition dawn. “I remember you now. Whatcha doing here in Ellerton this time, Ms. Sweet?”
“On vacation.” Again, she thought, but didn’t add the word. “Visiting my sister, Carol Whitman.”
Surprisingly, his smile turned friendly. “She and Bud had the baby yet?”
“A boy.” Dani went on to explain why she was at the bank and gave him the details of what had happened. Then, just to be polite, she added, “Can I be of help other than as a witness? If I can assist in the investigation in any way…”
He smirked a little, obviously recalling the last time their paths had crossed and how she had stolen his thunder. “No thanks, I think we can handle this one. So you’re with the COMPASS outfit now? We got some directives down a couple months ago about cooperation and interaction and such. Part of that special team, Sextant, aren’t you? Counterterrorism?”
“Yes, we’re an adjunct to Sextant.” She smiled. “Look, Chief, could you maybe keep my name out of things? I’d consider it a big favor. We like to keep a low profile.”
He nodded. “Sure thing. Okay, that about does it. Thanks.”
Dani followed him over to the door of the office where the EMTs were bagging the body.
“Well, Ben took care of him.” He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “Pretty cut-and-dried, I guess. Bank job gone bad. I need to go question Ben and the others. Maybe you should stick around until I’m finished, in case I come up with any more questions. You mind?”
“Glad to,” she replied, in no great hurry to face her disapproving sister with the news of her latest adventure.
A little while later, Ben Michaels returned to the lobby. He managed a more pleasant expression than any he had shown before. She registered again how perfect he looked. Short dark hair expertly cut. Nice, smoothly arched brows. Steely gray eyes rimmed with long black lashes. Lips that really made her pause to stare. Nose every plastic surgeon must aim to duplicate. Cheekbones that hinted at Native American genes beneath his pale skin. Except for a few hairline scars, nothing marred the mask. How benign he looked now. Great camouflage. She almost said so out loud.
“I shouldn’t have popped off at you the way I did,” he said. Perfect Southern gent routine, smooth as good cane syrup. One would never guess he had a pop-off in him.
“Not a problem,” she said, sort of aping his accent, simply because she liked it. Her natural Midwestern clip seemed a little blunt by comparison. “Guess I did the same thing. We were both pretty wound up.”
He either didn’t notice or ignored her Scarlett O’Hara impression as he nodded and inhaled deeply, releasing it slowly before speaking again. “Could I talk with you in private about what happened?”
Well, that raised her brows. “What for?”
“You’re Homeland Security and I have a possible threat to discuss.”
“Does it have to do with the robbery?”
He nodded. Dani decided to humor him. He had been through a lot this morning. He would naturally blow this all out of proportion—she had seen it many times. A thief, obviously of foreign extraction, had come in to rob the bank, to direct the funds out of the U.S. Had to be an international plot, right? Small towns were a refuge for foreign professionals. Her sister’s obstetrician was from India. All the convenience stores were run by recent immigrants, as were many of the mom-and-pop motels. This guy looked like a well-to-do businessman in his expensive top-coat and tasteful tie. Some immigrants were office workers, some blue collar, and, yes, some were thieves. But not all of them were linked to international terrorism.
Amid these doubting thoughts she became very aware of Ben Michaels’s hand on her elbow, guiding her to one of the empty offices even before she had noticed. At least he wasn’t causing any premonitions of danger. She smiled at the thought.
“Okay, Mr. Michaels, explain this potential threat,” she said in her most authoritative tone.
“Please, make yourself comfortable.” He gestured for her to sit in one of the wing-backed chairs that flanked the desk. Then he closed the door and sat across from her in the matching chair. Through the plate glass that separated the space from the lobby, Dani could see the beehive of activity as the locals went about their investigation.
She waited for him to begin. He searched her face, assessed it, as if trying to determine something about her.
She studied his, too, along with his body language and general demeanor, all of which signified his great concern, but also evident was his confidence to deal with whatever may trouble him. He certainly had done all right so far today, no question about that.