| General Fiction posted September 11, 2024 | Chapters: |
...22 23 -24- 25... 
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Can Alejandro Access the Safety Deposit Box
A chapter in the book Spirited Justice
Spirited Justice Chap 24
by Begin Again
| Background "Beauty, Brawn, or Brains" was a global platform showcasing women's diverse talents, yet murders, accidents, and deceit haunted the pageant worldwide. Was there a common link or merely coincidence? |
"What the hell am I doing?"
The reflection in the window was a tall, well-dressed man with a hint of stubble on his jaw. Shaking his head, Alejandro knew it was him, but he didn't recognize the man. The reflection appeared confident, and he was anything but that.
The steam from his untouched cup of coffee spiraled upward, forgotten somewhere between the confident catwalk he strutted when he entered the coffee shop and his current nervous fidgeting. Mindlessly, he stared at the loose granules of sugar dancing on the tabletop to the constant strumming of his fingers.
His gaze darted around the room, searching for anyone who might be watching him. Panic crept up his spine, and suddenly, every man in a business suit seemed suspicious — an undercover lookout for the bank or, worse, the police.
"How did I agree to do this? I must be losing my mind?"
He'd repeatedly rolled Jose's instruction in his mind, memorizing everything he'd said. It sounded so easy, yet he couldn't see it happening. He was about to walk across the street into the bank and pretend to be a dead man. His hand touched his pocket, checking for the umpteenth time that the false ID, Beckett's ID, was there. It felt like a hot poker against his chest. He silently screamed, "I can't do this."
He'd repeatedly rolled Jose's instruction in his mind, memorizing everything he'd said. It sounded so easy, yet he couldn't see it happening. He was about to walk across the street into the bank and pretend to be a dead man. His hand touched his pocket, checking for the umpteenth time that the false ID, Beckett's ID, was there. It felt like a hot poker against his chest. He silently screamed, "I can't do this."
And then his childhood friend was inside his head, assuring him it would be okay.
He ran a hand through his hair while he listened to Jose talking in his head. "You can do this. You're somebody — an attorney who's making a fast stop at the bank. Use your charm. Smile and flatter the young clerk. You'll make her day, and she'll have you opening that safety deposit box in minutes. Remember — open it, grab whatever is in there, and leave. Don't walk too fast so you look suspicious, but don't hang around either. Just a quick wave and a smile, and you are out the front door. Stay focused, man. We are going to be rich."
He ran a hand through his hair while he listened to Jose talking in his head. "You can do this. You're somebody — an attorney who's making a fast stop at the bank. Use your charm. Smile and flatter the young clerk. You'll make her day, and she'll have you opening that safety deposit box in minutes. Remember — open it, grab whatever is in there, and leave. Don't walk too fast so you look suspicious, but don't hang around either. Just a quick wave and a smile, and you are out the front door. Stay focused, man. We are going to be rich."
He knew the conversation by heart. It had replayed in his thoughts all night, and now it was time.
Two men in dark suits walked past his table and left the coffee shop. Alejandro's gaze followed them as they crossed the street and entered the bank's double glass doors.
Two men in dark suits walked past his table and left the coffee shop. Alejandro's gaze followed them as they crossed the street and entered the bank's double glass doors.
Had they been looking at him? Were they warning officials that he was there?
The fear of being caught tightened its grip, making every second feel like an eternity.
He felt like a neon light flashed above his head with a large red arrow announcing, "Arrest this man."
His phone buzzed, jarring him out of his spiraling thoughts. For a split second, his heart hammered, and thoughts of someone calling to stop him flashed through his mind. He snatched his cell off the table and stared at the screen. Jose's smiling face stared at him. He exhaled, barely realizing he'd been holding his breath.
"You feeling rich?"
The casual text mocked him, but the message put a stamp of reality on his day. His temperature rose as he felt the rush of blood pulsing through his veins and to his head. He rubbed his temples, hoping for the pulsing to stop. It didn't.
He pressed the call button on his phone. It rang once, twice, and finally, Jose's smooth, confident voice oozed through the line from the other end.
"Alejandro, my man, what's going on?"
He envied Jose's ability to make everything seem like it would go his way. He swallowed hard before he spoke, his voice hushed, "Jose, I don't know about this."
Jose's voice remained steady, "Listen to me. You've got this."
Alejandro's gaze moved from the coffee shop window, catching his reflection in the window and to the bank. "What if I mess up? We don't know how well they knew Beckett. They might figure it out."
"Beckett was just another customer, an unknown. All you have to do is walk in, hand them your ID, take the key, and get the box's contents. It's like winning the lottery."
Alejandro's laugh was hollow. "That's easy for you to say. You forget I am walking in there, pretending to be someone else."
"To them, you're just another guy. As long as you stay calm, they'll stay calm."
Alejandro rubbed the back of his neck. "What if they want me to sign something? My signature won't look like Beckett's."
After a pause, Jose's voice softened, "Listen, I trust you. I wouldn't have sent you to do this if I didn't believe you could. Now, you need to trust yourself. Just follow the plan — get in and get out."
Alejandro inhaled and exhaled, struggling to calm himself. Finally, with little conviction, he muttered, "I can do this!"
"Damn right, you can."
Taking another deep breath, Alejandro let it out slowly as he watched the people entering and leaving the bank. "Okay. I'll call you when it's done."
"I'll be waiting."
Alejandro hung up the phone and stared at the cup of coffee, now cold. He stood up and pushed his chair back, searching for the confidence his friend expected him to have. His legs felt like lead as he moved toward the door. Jose's words replayed in his mind —"You've got this!" He could hear the words, but somehow, he lost the sound of confidence in the translation.
He felt like a neon light flashed above his head with a large red arrow announcing, "Arrest this man."
His phone buzzed, jarring him out of his spiraling thoughts. For a split second, his heart hammered, and thoughts of someone calling to stop him flashed through his mind. He snatched his cell off the table and stared at the screen. Jose's smiling face stared at him. He exhaled, barely realizing he'd been holding his breath.
"You feeling rich?"
The casual text mocked him, but the message put a stamp of reality on his day. His temperature rose as he felt the rush of blood pulsing through his veins and to his head. He rubbed his temples, hoping for the pulsing to stop. It didn't.
He pressed the call button on his phone. It rang once, twice, and finally, Jose's smooth, confident voice oozed through the line from the other end.
"Alejandro, my man, what's going on?"
He envied Jose's ability to make everything seem like it would go his way. He swallowed hard before he spoke, his voice hushed, "Jose, I don't know about this."
Jose's voice remained steady, "Listen to me. You've got this."
Alejandro's gaze moved from the coffee shop window, catching his reflection in the window and to the bank. "What if I mess up? We don't know how well they knew Beckett. They might figure it out."
"Beckett was just another customer, an unknown. All you have to do is walk in, hand them your ID, take the key, and get the box's contents. It's like winning the lottery."
Alejandro's laugh was hollow. "That's easy for you to say. You forget I am walking in there, pretending to be someone else."
"To them, you're just another guy. As long as you stay calm, they'll stay calm."
Alejandro rubbed the back of his neck. "What if they want me to sign something? My signature won't look like Beckett's."
After a pause, Jose's voice softened, "Listen, I trust you. I wouldn't have sent you to do this if I didn't believe you could. Now, you need to trust yourself. Just follow the plan — get in and get out."
Alejandro inhaled and exhaled, struggling to calm himself. Finally, with little conviction, he muttered, "I can do this!"
"Damn right, you can."
Taking another deep breath, Alejandro let it out slowly as he watched the people entering and leaving the bank. "Okay. I'll call you when it's done."
"I'll be waiting."
Alejandro hung up the phone and stared at the cup of coffee, now cold. He stood up and pushed his chair back, searching for the confidence his friend expected him to have. His legs felt like lead as he moved toward the door. Jose's words replayed in his mind —"You've got this!" He could hear the words, but somehow, he lost the sound of confidence in the translation.
It was now or never.
Outside, the bank loomed in front of him. He took one final breath, ignoring the stranger reflected in the glass door, and stepped inside.
"Buy a rose, sir?" a small voice cut through his thoughts.
Alejandro glanced down to see a boy with a tattered shirt and worn-out shoes holding a single red rose. A pang of sympathy tugged at him — this kid barely looked old enough to be alone. However, he turned to leave, his mind preoccupied with what he had to do.
"Great gift for your lady," the boy added, hopeful eyes staring at him.
Alejandro hesitated, then reached into his pocket, pulling out a few crumpled dollars. He handed them to the boy, taking the rose without another word. As he walked across the bank foyer, he smiled as if now he had a disguise.
He approached the front desk where the young clerk was stationed and offered a cheerful good morning.
She looked up from her computer, and her curious eyes met him with polite interest. "Good morning. How can I help you today?"
On the inside, his heart was pounding, but outside, he slipped into the act he had rehearsed in his bathroom mirror. His voice was smoother than expected, offering a touch of confidence he barely recognized. "Good morning to you, beautiful." He held up the rose with a grin. "I saw this and thought it would look much better in your hands than mine."
The young woman blinked in surprise, and a rosy pink crept across her cheeks. "Oh, for me? That's so kind of you." As she accepted the rose, her fingers brushed his hand briefly.
Alejandro leaned against the counter, smiling and trying to act like a man who did this every day. "You're the highlight of my morning," he winked, watching the smile cross her lips. "Sadly, I have business to attend to and need to access my safe deposit box. I'm running behind, so I hope this won't take much time."
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, still smiling. "It should only take a minute or two. May I see your ID, please?"
Alejandro's fingers twitched as he pulled the false ID from his pocket. As he slid it across the counter to her, their fingers brushed again. Hoping to distract her, he added, "Do you mind me asking what cologne you are wearing? It smells so fresh, not heavy like so many women wear."
"Most men wouldn't even notice. It's called Cashmere." Flustered, her cheeks turned a brighter pink. "Let me prepare this paperwork so you aren't late for your appointment."
His pulse raced, but he added calmly, "Take your time, no rush." Inside his head — he was already mentally walking out the door with the papers in his hand.
The junior clerk typed something into her computer and slid a form across the counter with a pen. "I just need your signature here, Mr. Beckett."
Alejandro's throat tightened. His palms were sweaty, and an entire band of drums played inside his chest. He glanced at the form and picked up the pen, knowing this was it. One wrong move, one second too long, and this charade could fall apart.
From beneath his lashes, he saw the clerk twirling the rose in her fingers, admiring the delicate petals. Her cheeks were still pink. A smile crept across his face. She was not thinking about the task at hand, that he was sure.
Yet, his hand trembled as he scribbled a barely legible "Arthur Beckett" on the line. He slid the paper toward her, and the tension in his chest tightened as he waited for her reaction.
Without glancing at the form, she handed him his ID, murmuring, "I like your smile. You should have done that on your ID." Then, realizing she might have said too much, she grabbed a set of keys and motioned for him to follow her. "If you'll come with me, we'll get you to that safe deposit box."
When they reached the vault, she opened the heavy door with a swipe of her card, leading him inside. Rows upon rows of small, numbered boxes lined the walls. She gestured to the one marked with the number he'd memorized from Jose's instructions.
"Here it is," she said, unlocking the box with her key before stepping aside. "Just give me a call when you're done."
Alejandro nodded, watching her leave. The door closed behind her with a soft click. His hands were shaking as he inserted his key into the box. He sighed when he heard the click that unlocked the box.
Inside was a slim folder, plain and unassuming. He saw the name Lila Whitaker. His heart raced as he grabbed it, tucking it under his jacket. He didn't dare open it here — that would come later when he was safely out of the bank.
As he reached for the other papers, he heard footsteps coming his way. His pulse quickened as a man in a crisp suit appeared in the doorway — a bank officer.
The officer's eyes flicked from Alejandro to the open safe deposit box. His eyebrow furrowed. "Excuse me, sir, I noticed the name Arthur Beckett on the records, but —"
Alejandro froze. His mind raced. "He knows I'm not Beckett."
He slammed the vault door against the officer's shoulder without a second thought, sending the man stumbling backward. He bolted, the folder tucked securely under his arm, adrenaline surging through him.
The officer shouted for security, but Alejandro didn't look back. He pushed through the heavy doors, knocking into a few customers as he sprinted toward the exit.
He could hear the commotion inside as he burst onto the street, but he didn't stop. His heart pounded in his ears, but he kept moving, one step at a time. He could feel the precious papers against his chest, and the thrill of the heist was nearly intoxicating.
Just a few more seconds —
"Buy a rose, sir?" a small voice cut through his thoughts.
Alejandro glanced down to see a boy with a tattered shirt and worn-out shoes holding a single red rose. A pang of sympathy tugged at him — this kid barely looked old enough to be alone. However, he turned to leave, his mind preoccupied with what he had to do.
"Great gift for your lady," the boy added, hopeful eyes staring at him.
Alejandro hesitated, then reached into his pocket, pulling out a few crumpled dollars. He handed them to the boy, taking the rose without another word. As he walked across the bank foyer, he smiled as if now he had a disguise.
He approached the front desk where the young clerk was stationed and offered a cheerful good morning.
She looked up from her computer, and her curious eyes met him with polite interest. "Good morning. How can I help you today?"
On the inside, his heart was pounding, but outside, he slipped into the act he had rehearsed in his bathroom mirror. His voice was smoother than expected, offering a touch of confidence he barely recognized. "Good morning to you, beautiful." He held up the rose with a grin. "I saw this and thought it would look much better in your hands than mine."
The young woman blinked in surprise, and a rosy pink crept across her cheeks. "Oh, for me? That's so kind of you." As she accepted the rose, her fingers brushed his hand briefly.
Alejandro leaned against the counter, smiling and trying to act like a man who did this every day. "You're the highlight of my morning," he winked, watching the smile cross her lips. "Sadly, I have business to attend to and need to access my safe deposit box. I'm running behind, so I hope this won't take much time."
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, still smiling. "It should only take a minute or two. May I see your ID, please?"
Alejandro's fingers twitched as he pulled the false ID from his pocket. As he slid it across the counter to her, their fingers brushed again. Hoping to distract her, he added, "Do you mind me asking what cologne you are wearing? It smells so fresh, not heavy like so many women wear."
"Most men wouldn't even notice. It's called Cashmere." Flustered, her cheeks turned a brighter pink. "Let me prepare this paperwork so you aren't late for your appointment."
His pulse raced, but he added calmly, "Take your time, no rush." Inside his head — he was already mentally walking out the door with the papers in his hand.
The junior clerk typed something into her computer and slid a form across the counter with a pen. "I just need your signature here, Mr. Beckett."
Alejandro's throat tightened. His palms were sweaty, and an entire band of drums played inside his chest. He glanced at the form and picked up the pen, knowing this was it. One wrong move, one second too long, and this charade could fall apart.
From beneath his lashes, he saw the clerk twirling the rose in her fingers, admiring the delicate petals. Her cheeks were still pink. A smile crept across his face. She was not thinking about the task at hand, that he was sure.
Yet, his hand trembled as he scribbled a barely legible "Arthur Beckett" on the line. He slid the paper toward her, and the tension in his chest tightened as he waited for her reaction.
Without glancing at the form, she handed him his ID, murmuring, "I like your smile. You should have done that on your ID." Then, realizing she might have said too much, she grabbed a set of keys and motioned for him to follow her. "If you'll come with me, we'll get you to that safe deposit box."
When they reached the vault, she opened the heavy door with a swipe of her card, leading him inside. Rows upon rows of small, numbered boxes lined the walls. She gestured to the one marked with the number he'd memorized from Jose's instructions.
"Here it is," she said, unlocking the box with her key before stepping aside. "Just give me a call when you're done."
Alejandro nodded, watching her leave. The door closed behind her with a soft click. His hands were shaking as he inserted his key into the box. He sighed when he heard the click that unlocked the box.
Inside was a slim folder, plain and unassuming. He saw the name Lila Whitaker. His heart raced as he grabbed it, tucking it under his jacket. He didn't dare open it here — that would come later when he was safely out of the bank.
As he reached for the other papers, he heard footsteps coming his way. His pulse quickened as a man in a crisp suit appeared in the doorway — a bank officer.
The officer's eyes flicked from Alejandro to the open safe deposit box. His eyebrow furrowed. "Excuse me, sir, I noticed the name Arthur Beckett on the records, but —"
Alejandro froze. His mind raced. "He knows I'm not Beckett."
He slammed the vault door against the officer's shoulder without a second thought, sending the man stumbling backward. He bolted, the folder tucked securely under his arm, adrenaline surging through him.
The officer shouted for security, but Alejandro didn't look back. He pushed through the heavy doors, knocking into a few customers as he sprinted toward the exit.
He could hear the commotion inside as he burst onto the street, but he didn't stop. His heart pounded in his ears, but he kept moving, one step at a time. He could feel the precious papers against his chest, and the thrill of the heist was nearly intoxicating.
Just a few more seconds —
 Recognized |
Danielle "Danni" Delahanty -- Ghost Detective
Eleanor Bennett -- Beloved Ghost Advisor
Matthew Donatelli -- Detective
Jenna Bradford -- Journalist and Pageant Consultant
Naomi Henderson -- Lawyer/ex-lover of Donatelli -
Arthur Beckett - deceased lawyer, friend, and enemy of Naomi
Patti Beckett - ex-wife from a nasty divorce
Hilda - a pageant contestant and medical researcher
Klaus - Hilda's older brother and protector
Johan - a supposed friend of Hilda's family with a connection to Jose
Angelo Carter - a private investigator with a dark side
Carlos Hernandez - a Mexican landowner with power
Jose Hernandez - Carlos's son - a reckless playboy
Alejandro - Jose's childhood friend
Garth Woodman - FBI Agent
Tango and Poppa - FBI agents under Garth
Allie - his love who died of cancer (an investigative reporter)
Dr. Rosa Galotti -- Morgue Medical Examiner
Emily - Jenna's faithful assistant
Lila - a pageant contestant who was murdered for her research
Thomas Whitaker - Lila's father
Sophia - Lila's sister (blind)
Max - Sophia's best friend and guide dog
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. Eleanor Bennett -- Beloved Ghost Advisor
Matthew Donatelli -- Detective
Jenna Bradford -- Journalist and Pageant Consultant
Naomi Henderson -- Lawyer/ex-lover of Donatelli -
Arthur Beckett - deceased lawyer, friend, and enemy of Naomi
Patti Beckett - ex-wife from a nasty divorce
Hilda - a pageant contestant and medical researcher
Klaus - Hilda's older brother and protector
Johan - a supposed friend of Hilda's family with a connection to Jose
Angelo Carter - a private investigator with a dark side
Carlos Hernandez - a Mexican landowner with power
Jose Hernandez - Carlos's son - a reckless playboy
Alejandro - Jose's childhood friend
Garth Woodman - FBI Agent
Tango and Poppa - FBI agents under Garth
Allie - his love who died of cancer (an investigative reporter)
Dr. Rosa Galotti -- Morgue Medical Examiner
Emily - Jenna's faithful assistant
Lila - a pageant contestant who was murdered for her research
Thomas Whitaker - Lila's father
Sophia - Lila's sister (blind)
Max - Sophia's best friend and guide dog
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