Page 10 of Sebastian
“About time you all got in,” he snapped.
“Frank, they were here early. It’s only 0700, and I’m here. Yelling doesn’t make us move any faster,” said Emelia. At home, she was relatively quiet. At work, Emelia had learned that if you didn’t stand up for yourself, no one else would.
Frank looked up at the clock, then back down at the files in front of him, nodding.
“Sorry. I just got off the phone and got the ass-chewing of my life. The bureau and others want this bank robbery ring stopped. Immediately.”
“Well, let me get on the phone and tell the robbers we’d like them to stop robbing banks,” Cord said sarcastically. The others rolled their eyes at him, knowing that Frank would make him pay for that later.
“Frank, there has been no pattern to any of this. Not geographically, not by bank name, nothing. It’s as if they’re picking them at random. We’re looking at all the options, but we just need a break. A little tiny break,” said Tara.
“I know, I know,” nodded Frank. He pushed a sheet of paper toward each of them. “This might be it. We’ve had waste management trying to keep an eye out for any discarded masks. These three addresses, miles apart, had similar masks to what was described in the robberies. Each of you take an address and ask questions.
“I don’t expect any issues. These are quiet, middle-class neighborhoods with families, children, some retirees. It could be totally random, but it might lead us somewhere.”
“I’ll take the one in Maryland,” said Emelia.
“I’ll take D.C.,” said Cord.
“I guess that leaves me Virginia,” smiled Tara.
Gathering their gear, they each headed out. Emelia waved at Helen, smiling at the older woman.
“Be back soon, Helen. Headed to the great state of Maryland.”
“Oooh, get a crab cake by the wharf!” Emelia could only laugh as she got in the elevator with her colleagues.
Emelia drove through the small neighborhood near the water, admiring the pretty little cottages and ranch-style homes. It was a beautiful mix of styles with the well-maintained homes and lawns speaking to the pride of the neighborhood.
Checking the address on her sheet, she pulled up out front of the pretty blue house. Standing outside the car, she looked up and down the street, shaking her head.
“This is not my lead,” she muttered under her breath. Knowing she had to follow up on it, she walked up the sidewalk and onto the porch, ringing the doorbell. It was a few moments later that an older man opened the door, his wife behind.
“Can I help you, dear?” he asked.
“I hope so, sir. My name is Agent Emelia Stanton with the FBI. I’d like to ask you a few questions about a mask that was found in your trash.”
“A mask?” exclaimed his wife.
“Yes, ma’am. May I come in?”
“Let her in, Ed,” said the woman. “Can I get you some tea, honey?”
“That would be lovely, thank you,” smiled Emelia. She took a seat on the older floral sofa and casually took in the décor. It was simple but clean, well-cared for, and exactly what she would expect from an older couple. It seemed odd that there wasn’t the usual clutter of an older person’s home, but then again, they could be neat freaks. She knew a few of those herself.
“So, a mask,” said the man.
“Yes, sir. I’m investigating the bank robberies you’ve probably read about lately, and the mask that was found in your trash matches one that was used in a recent robbery.”
“I’ll bet those darn kids at the end of the street threw it in there,” he said, shaking his head.
“Now, Ed,” said the woman, setting the tea in front of Emelia. “It’s not always those kids. He just doesn’t like kids.”
“I understand,” smiled Emelia. She took a sip of the tea and set it back down on the saucer. “Did you…”
“Did we what, dear?” Emelia looked at the woman, her head suddenly swimming, then looked at the man. She started to stand but fell back against the sofa.
“Oh, no,” said Ed. “Looks like she’s drunk too much.”