Orchid Blues Read Free Page B

it will explode.”
    A woman left a parking space and he pulled in. Inside, the receptionist smiled. “You look sensational,” she said.
    “I know,” he replied, giving her a smile.
    She handed him a fat envelope. “There you are: tickets, itinerary, reservation confirmations, the works. And a little gift from us: a guide to the best restaurants.”
    “You’re an angel,” he said.
    “Have a wonderful honeymoon!”
    He left the agency and went back to his car. He spent five minutes going through everything in the envelope, making sure that the tickets, reservations and itinerary were perfectly accurate. Satisfied, he started the car and headed up the boulevard. He crossed the south bridge over the Intracoastal Wa terway, also known as the Indian River, and in another five minutes reached the bank.
    He parked the car and got out. An armored car was unloading at the front door, and the guards gave him a look. He laughed. What bank robber would be wearing a white linen suit?
    Only two tellers were open, and there was a line of half a dozen people at each. He got into line behind a blond man of his own height—well over six feet—wearing Bermuda shorts, Top-Siders and a yellow Polo shirt.
    The man glanced over his shoulder and grinned. “You look as though you’re dressed for a wedding,” he said, smiling.
    “Guilty,” Jackson said, raising his hands.
    “Your own?”
    “Guilty again. You a local or a foreigner?”
    The man laughed. “A foreigner, I guess. I’m down here to buy an airplane from Piper, in Vero Beach.”
    “Which airplane?”
    “The Malibu Mirage.”
    “Not the turboprop, the Meridian?”
    “I’ll have to make some more money before I get one of those.”
    “I fly myself, but I rent. Couple more years, I might spring for something nice. Where you from?”
    “New York.”
    “What do you do up there?”
    “I practice law.”
    “I do the same down here, when I’m not getting married. Have you done your flight training yet?”
    “Finished this morning; I’m just picking up a cashier’s check, so we can close on the airplane.”
    The line moved forward, and the man became engaged with the teller.
    Something made Jackson look toward the door. Four men were standing there, wearing blue jumpsuits, yellow hard hats, masks and goggles. Each of them was holding a shotgun at port arms. One of the men racked his shotgun, and everybody turned and looked at him.
    “Everybody be real calm,” the man said from behind his mask, “and we’ll be out of your way in just a minute.” He turned to the men beside him. “Get started,” he said. The three men walked rapidly toward an area of desks, where the bank’s officers worked. Immediately behind the desk was a large vault, open.
    Jackson noticed the blond man standing beside him. “Looks like we’re witnesses to a bank robbery,” Jackson said softly, without moving his lips.
    “Just do as they say,” the man said.
    “You bet,” Jackson said. He looked to his left to see the men in jumpsuits returning from the vault. Two of them stood guard as the third pushed a hand truck laden with canvas bags. They were going to pass within three feet of him. Jackson concentrated on trying to remember what the men looked like. He could hardly tell Holly he had witnessed a bank robbery and not noticed what they looked like. They ranged from about five-seven to six-feet-four and were identically dressed. What with the masks and the goggles, he could tell nothing about them but their height and weight. The tallest one had some gray hair visible at the nape of his neck. Holly was going to be pissed when he told her about this, and that wouldn’t be until they were on the airplane. He wasn’t going to have his wedding day ruined by a bank robbery.
    As the men approached, one of them backed into Jackson, then whirled around to point the shotgun at him. “Watch it, you stupid sonofabitch!” the man said.
    “ You watch it,” Jackson said, fairly pleasantly.