“Come with me.”

Rico stepped past the well-dressed woman and moved toward the door. Grunt grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and propelled him out the door.

“I’m sorry, I’ll do what you want,” Rico said.

Looking out, Jo had a limited view as Grunt pushed him down another hallway, and they disappeared inside the vault room. QB grabbed the duffel bag and headed after them. He paused by the vault door and tossed the bag inside. Douglas’s legs gave way. He sank to the floor and leaned back, his back thumping against the cabinets. With both hands, he made another futile wipe at his sweaty face.

“I don’t want to die.” It was the well-dressed woman, her voice so small it could’ve been a child’s.

Barbara was crying, and Sabrina put a hand over her stomach.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” she moaned.

“Everyone, stay calm,” Jo whispered. “Don’t argue with them, just do what they say.” She looked at the well-dressed woman. “What’s your name?”

“Darlene.”

The stocky man who’d been at the back of the bank spoke up. “I’m Ward.”

Jo nodded at him, then focused on the plump, middle-aged teller. “And what about you?”

“Mandy,” she said.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mandy,” Jo said. “I’m Jo.”

She mimicked Mandy’s and Darlene’s responses, not using her surname. She didn’t know if the women had done that intentionally, but Jo didn’t want these people to know anything more about her, if possible. The introductions served the purpose Jo had wanted. The tension, although still palpable, had diminished somewhat. She kept up the encouraging tenor, hoping to push that along.

“We need to stay cool,” she said. The employee with the long ponytail stared at her. “How do you know what to do?” His tone seemed skeptical of her.

“What’s your name?” Jo asked him.

“Cameron.”

“Cameron,” Jo repeated. Saying his name herself did several things. It was attention-grabbing, and it might make him feel important. It also showed that she respected him. All ways to help her connect with him. “I know a little about . . . dangerous situations, and if we’re careful, it’ll all be okay.”

She didn’t know if it would be okay, of course, but if the group kept calm, that was significant. Jo didn’t intend to die this way, crammed into a storage room by a few random criminals. After years of being overseas on missions, she’d finally left Civil Affairs a year and a half earlier. She’d been in Alabama and Arizona, then to Mexico to help her best friend, Dack Pendleton. She’d also gone back to Colorado to see her father, Will, and her sister, Avery, where she’d started repairing long-fractured relationships with them. She’d hoped to be able to stay there, but it hadn’t worked out, and she’d gone to Utah, then Nevada, and then back to Arizona. Always on the move, always encountering trouble. Jo wasn’t the kind who could walk away, and she wasn’t one to lose.

As Jo pondered all this, she was watching the doorway. QB eyed the storage room from his vantage point outside the vault, but he didn’t seem to care if the hostages were talking. Jo didn’t know how long they would have before that changed. She looked at Douglas.

“Are you going to be okay?” she asked.

Douglas stared at her, his eyes wide. “Yes.” He sounded firm.

Jo glanced at the others. For the most part, they’d remained motionless and quiet. Jo touched Sabrina’s arm. She wasn’t shaking, but she still clutched her waist.

“Take deep breaths, okay?” Jo said.

Sabrina nodded and gulped. “What’re they going to do to us?”

“They’ll take what they want, and they’ll negotiate their way out of here.”

She kept thinking about the men who had taken them hostage. Besides the coordinated clothing, she’d been paying attention to their voices. Grunt had an accent, something European. QB had a slight Southern drawl, with a slower pace of speech, as if he might’ve grown up in Alabama or Mississippi but hadn’t lived there in a long while. She’d only briefly heard Stretch speak, and he hadn’t appeared again. Was he up front, talking to law enforcement? The trio had planned everything to this point with precision, making no mistakes, and they wouldn’t have come this far without a solid escape plan. She hoped it didn’t involve taking someone in the storage room with them.

She looked out the doorway just as Rico emerged from the vault. QB propelled him down the hallway, toward the storage room.

CHAPTER THREE

When they reached the doorway, the man shoved Rico into the room. Jo tensed, waiting for what would happen next.

“Sit down,” he ordered Rico.

Rico stumbled into the room, tripping over the legs of Barbara. He put a hand on the countertop so he didn’t pitch forward, and then he whirled around and stared at the hostage-taker.

“What the hell,” Rico said. “I could’ve hurt her.”

Barbara was rubbing her shin, and she looked at Rico, frightened. “I’m okay.”

“Sit down,” QB repeated.

Rico took a couple of steps toward him. “You’re not going to get away with this.”

“Rico, keep your mouth shut,” Douglas murmured.

Rico turned partially around and said, “Yeah? You may not want to get out of here alive, but I do.” He turned back to the hostage-taker. “I got you into the vault, so let us go.”

Jo gritted her teeth. Rico was doing everything wrong, making a bad situation worse. The last thing he should do was get the group stirred up, or worse, anger these men. But Rico went on.

“How long are you going to keep us in here?” He jabbed a finger at the man. “I need to go to the bathroom, and I’ll bet others do, too.”

“Calm down,” Jo whispered.

It was too late. The man stalked into the room, the Beretta raised. Before Rico could do anything, the pistol was trained on his forehead.

“Sit down now, or your brains will be splattered all over these people.”

The room erupted in fear. Barbara began crying, and Darlene reached over and held her. Mandy pleaded with Rico to be quiet, while Cameron swore at him. Next to Jo, Sabrina moaned loudly, wringing her hands. Jo grabbed her wrist, feeling her steady pulse.

“Oh man, oh man,” Sabrina said. “I’m gonna die.”

Rico stood his ground, staring at the man. Jo watched the finger on the trigger, the tenseness in his hand.

“You don’t want to do that,” she said to him. “It’ll only make things worse for everyone.”

QB glanced at Jo, and she wished she could see his eyes. His heaving chest began to slow, and his demeanor changed, his stance easing. Jo didn’t know if her words had helped the situation or not, but the man hadn’t pulled the trigger. He glanced around, then said, “Shut up!”

The room went silent apart from terrified, ragged breathing. The man looked at Rico. “I should kill you.”

“Well?” Rico said. He stood tall, but his eyes blinked with fear.