Chill Factor
Prologue
Monday, 3:00 p.m.
Lucy Ames, a plump fifty-five-year-old divorcee, swept into the Texas Citizens Branch Bank on a crisp May afternoon and waited her turn in silence, not chatting with other patrons as was her custom. Instead, she hummed "Bad Moon Rising" and spent the brief wait noticing the rich viridian carpet, rose marble counter, and Ms. Darlene Flores pecking away at her computer. Lucy didn't usually bank at the Webster branch. Nevertheless, she'd come to make a withdrawal.
When the woman ahead of her, wearing an outrageously short, poppy-print dress, turned from the counter to exit through the glass doors, Lucy laid an empty book tote in the window and smiled at the teller. The tote was empty now because Lucy had removed the only item it carried, a .38 Police Special.
She pointed the gun at the teller. The young man had worked at this branch two years, Lucy recalled, long enough to know the rules and not panic, long enough to know how to act during a holdup, although this branch had never been robbed. At six-month intervals, the bank's security officer instructed branch employees in proper robbery procedures. Lucy knew the young te ...
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