Page 32 of Reckoning

As he was working, he thought about how summer jobs had changed his freedom to spend time with Briar, and with her helping her dad in his office, the same went for her, but he did send her a text when he went on break.

Mom and Dad went to St. Louis this a.m. It’s their twenty-first wedding anniversary. I’m at work all day. I love you. I miss you.

A short while later she responded.

I’m at work with Dad. His secretary is still out of town. Mom’s still gone. Dad doesn’t talk about it. I know nothing. I love you more. Miss you too.

When he read her message, he sighed, thinking how different their family dynamics were. Her family lived in a fine house on a street lined with fine houses. Her parents lived in discord, and Briar was treated more like their possession than a beloved daughter.

His family lived on the other side of Main Street, in a tree-lined neighborhood closer to the river. A less desirable place for many, yet a place of great beauty for others. His parents loved each other and in turn, he knew that he was loved.

Sorry for the turmoil, darlin’. But I’m here for you. Always.

He heard nothing more from her after that, and they got busy at the store. By the time closing time rolled around, Tate was ready for the day to be over.

The last customer had just walked out the door.

Employees were leaving, and the janitor was on his way out the back door. Andy had already locked up the front entrance, picked up the bag with the daily deposit from the desk in his office, and was headed toward the employee parking behind the store.

Tate had purchased some food from the deli section for his supper and went to get it from the cooler. He came running as Andy was waiting to lock up.

“Good job today, Tate. Have a good evening,” Andy said.

Tate smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Sparks. You too,” he said, and walked out in front of him.

Andy turned to lock the door, and as he did, the night deposit bag slipped out of his grasp.

Tate heard it hit the street, stopped to pick it up for him, and, the moment he touched the bag, felt his surroundings fading. Instead of the back parking lot and his dad’s truck, he saw two men—strangers—in wait near the bank drive-through. He knew the bank was already closed, and he also knew that Mr. Sparks would be taking the store’s deposit to the night depository beside the teller’s window. Tate’s heart was pounding as he gave the bag back to Andy, but he knew what it meant.

“Mr. Sparks, I need to tell you something. There are two men hiding near the night deposit at the bank. They’re going to rob you.”

Andy shivered, despite his disbelief. “Now Tate, I don’t see how you—”

Tate was sweating. He could see the men, and he had to make his boss believe him. “Please, Mr. Sparks, they’ll hurt you. One has a gun, and the other one is in their getaway car. The driver will pull up behind you, blocking you from backing out, as the other one approaches you from the front with a gun pointed at you. They want the night deposit bag. You need to call the police. Ask the police to follow you there from a distance without giving themselves away.”

Andy sighed. “Yeah, sure, kid.”

“Please, Mr. Sparks. Call them now before you leave. You don’t have to mention my name. Just tell them you got a tip that someone might try to rob you there.”

Andy hesitated, but the intensity in Tate’s voice and the look on his face were impossible to ignore. “I’m probably going to make a fool of myself, but okay,” Andy said, and pulled out his phone. He told the cops the story Tate suggested and hung up. “Okay, Tate. Mission accomplished. See you tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir,” Tate said, then got in his truck as his boss headed uptown.

Tate drove out of the alley to the street then paused, waiting until he saw two cops driving out of the police parking lot in the direction of the bank.

Satisfied that he’d done all he could, he drove home, pulled up beneath the carport, and parked. As he was getting out of the truck, he heard sirens and police cars on the move and breathed a sigh of relief. The would-be thieves had been arrested, and Mr. Sparks was safe.

He carried his food into the house, washed up, turned on the TV, then reheated his food and took it to eat on the sofa. After he’d finished, he thought about his parents and hoped they were having the best time of their lives. No sooner had he thought it than his phone rang. When he saw who it was from, he smiled as he answered.

“Hey, Dad. Yes, I’m fine. All is well. Work was busy. I just ate supper, and I’m beat. Are you two having fun?”

Abel’s laugh said it all. “Yes, we are. We’re headed to a music show here at the casino, but your mama wasn’t going to be happy until she knew you were okay.”

“Tell her I’m being a good boy,” Tate said.

Abel chuckled. “I will do that. Take care. Promise you’ll call us if there’s an emergency.”

“I promise,” Tate said.