Tempted by Trouble (29 page)

As soon as the door closed we convened in the kitchen and went over the plans and diagrams again. Just like we had done in Dallas, we put the maps and schematics on the tables and walls. It looked like it was less than a minute’s drive from the main church to the annex with the vault. Outside of the members of the treasury, three people worked the transfer, and one of them was the inside man, so there would be only two armed men to deal with.

Eddie Coyle said, “Two to put down and one to leave injured.”

Cora nodded. “That’s the plan.”

We talked through the entire scenario, but I focused on my part of the crime. I was going to enter the property off Highway 11, blend in with any traffic going into the church, then drive the team to the back side of the megachurch, move the team to the area that had several annexes. When they were done, I was going be ready for them to load up and not be seen as we exited. I would get us to the stage-two vehicle, get us loaded, and bring us back here.

I asked, “You’re sure the money will be there?”

Cora nodded and took over, made an impatient face, and explained that in the big churches there were treasury teams. She had learned that going to our church. This mission had been in motion long enough for her to know that the target church always collected the money inside the church, then the treasury team always left the main building and counted the money inside the annex.

I asked, “Always?”

Eddie Coyle said, “That’s what the inside man says.”

Cora took a deep breath and added that the treasury team counted the tax-free monies two, maybe three more times before putting it inside the vault. No one else would be inside the building but the treasury team and their security. That gave us a large window of time. But the inside man was making it possible to get the money before it ever made it inside the vault.

Eddie Coyle said, “I can’t wait to look at that money.”

Jackie smiled. “I want to see what a half million looks like.”

Cora swallowed her excitement. “This will pay off. This is six months of my life.”

Bishop rubbed his palms and grinned. “I bet that money will be stacked up on a table like in the opening of that movie
Across 110th Street.
A mountain of money will be on the table and the electronic counters will be there spitting that money out like they’re in a bank.”

Cora said, “More money will be inside the vault. Enough to make this a big score.”

Everyone gave high fives in anticipation of success.

I said, “So after the treasury team exits the church, we’re going to meet them inside the annex. This annex, the one on the back side of the property, away from the streets and all eyes.”

Cora snapped, “Is this vague, Dmytryk? It’s just like robbing a bank. And there is no ‘we’ going inside. No ‘we’ that you are a part of. You stay in the van. We will go in when they are the most vulnerable. And you sit and wait. When they think they’re safe and are in the middle of their routine, the part of the team that you’re not on will take care of what needs to be taken care of. Get it? That make sense? Nothing bad has ever happened here, and they’re not expecting us.”

I took a calming breath and shook off her rage. “While I wait in the van, you and the crew are going to storm inside to make the withdrawal. There is a long hallway. There are stairs. You’re going inside an area you’ve never seen before. I’m worried about the timing.”

Cora snapped, “He’s on the friggin’ treasury team. That’s covered.”

Eddie Coyle said, “Relax. Cora’s friend will tell us the exact moment. It will all go down behind closed doors. We’ll walk in wearing ski masks and they’ll know we mean business.”

“Masks and guns. That’s not your usual MO.”

Bishop said, “You rob a bank, the Feds look for you.”

Eddie Coyle added, “You rob a church and the world will hunt you down.”

I took a breath. “Sounds like the prelude to another North Hollywood shootout.”

Cora shook her head. “But it won’t be North Hollywood. This is not a bank.”

Eddie Coyle said, “If Larry Phillips Jr. and Emil Matasareanu had done what we’re doing they would’ve both been rich and walking on top of the ground.”

I said, “Just to be sure, since you’ve been holding out on information, you’re not going to storm inside the sanctuary like it’s a bank holdup in a bad movie, are you?”

Eddie Coyle laughed. “They won’t even know we’re there. The annex will only have a few people. We’re not going to rush inside the main church and have ten thousand witnesses.”

I took a deep breath and exhaled, my insides tightening up.

Eddie Coyle said, “That makes you feel better, I take it.”

“Would it matter?”

 

 

 

 

Minutes later, Bishop left
with Cora. They loaded up inside a ten-year-old van that Eddie Coyle and Cora had waiting for us inside the detached garage. They were back within twenty minutes. Bishop carried in a large box. Inside that box were a dozen pairs of plastic ties that would be used as handcuffs and black bags that were thick and the size of a human head. There were more than was needed. There were a dozen balaclavas and five Ruger P94s. They had nine-millimeter guns, weapons that held fifteen bullets in total, ready to be used on this job. Eddie Coyle had secured the same tools that had been used to pull off the biggest bank job in Britain. Eddie Coyle handed everyone a gun, including me. It was light, but as heavy as death. Cora held a gun in her hand. She looked excited. Anxious. Everything but afraid.

Eddie Coyle came to me. “Jackie said you did good with the gun you had back in L.A.”

“I did what I had to do.”

“You finally had to put one down.”

“Like I said, I did what I had to do.”

“Well, here’s an upgrade. I’ll cover the basics, but if it hits the fan just point and shoot.”

“No problem.”

 

 

 

 

There wasn’t any food
in the town home and everyone was hungry. We ended up near I-59 at a Cracker Barrel, an agrestic Southern eatery that had wooden rocking chairs and checkerboards set up out front. There were deer heads and rifles and plastic fish and cast-iron skillets and fishing rods and washboards on the walls.

Eddie Coyle sat across from me. Jackie sat next to me, and Cora sat next to Eddie Coyle. Jackie and Cora were seated across from each other, face-to-face. Bishop sat at the head of the table. Eddie Coyle was the leader and we were the disciples. That was the way it felt. Knowing what we were about to do had put my mind in a different mood. Robbing a bank hadn’t bothered me, not like this. It was wrong, I was aware, hypocritical at times, and I made no excuses, but robbing the government was justified. They had stolen from us directly.

Jackie said, “We should’ve driven to Five Points South to the Pancake House. They have the best turkey sausage in Alabama. Cora, remember when we went there after that job we did at Region? We ate and then went shopping at the Pinnacle. And we met those nice gentlemen.”

Eddie Coyle said, “Shut up, Jackie. Shut up and feed your piehole before I feed it for you.”

Jackie threw a half-eaten biscuit at Eddie Coyle, hit him in the center of his forehead.

Bishop laughed hard. I did too. Then Eddie Coyle laughed. His lip was swollen and my face was bruised. And we laughed. Cora didn’t say anything. Her expression said that she wouldn’t say another word to Jackie until Chick-fil-A was open on Easter Sunday. After that, Eddie Coyle, Bishop, and I chatted like brothers. Jackie sat next to me with her hand resting on my leg, claiming me as her own.

I said, “Bishop, tell me that story about that robbery up in Memphis, Tennessee.”

“Which one are you talking about?”

“The funny one you always used to tell Rick and Sammy, the one about those idiots who tried to rob First Tennessee and ended up in that newspaper for criminals.”

Bishop laughed harder. “You mean the one about the idiots who tried to rob First Tennessee over by the University of Memphis? Those idiots tried to run in the bank with their weapons drawn, then got stuck inside the revolving doors. They tried to shoot their way out, but the glass is bulletproof, so they ended up shooting each other, then begging for medical assistance.”

Everyone laughed except Cora. She wasn’t there anymore, not mentally, not emotionally. She was angry. She was nervous. She wanted to run but she had to stay.

Jackie’s hand rested on the table. I reached over and held her hand as we laughed.

Abbey Rose’s novel rested on the table between us, that reminder in plain sight.

Cora asked Eddie Coyle for one of his Marlboro Blacks. She excused herself, went outside and smoked, then came back inside and walked around the gift shop until we were done.

I understood where we stood. And I knew this was the final fork in the road. And I knew why. It wasn’t because of Eddie Coyle. In the big picture, Eddie Coyle was nothing but a flea on the shoulder of God. With Cora, I had clung to the first four years of our marriage. Cora only remembered the last two. I remembered the joy from the first time we made love. She remembered the pain from the last. As they said, there were at least three sides to every story. Ours had been the economy. Love. And the truth.

The truth was something neither of us would understand. It was beyond our grasps.

The last few hours felt as if I had been on an unpaved road that was as long as three trips to Los Angeles and back. My soul had processed the five stages of grief in a matter of hours and my heart was exhausted.

Eddie Coyle said, “Let’s go over this one more time before the next time.”

We talked through the job one more time. And when we finished, I excused myself and went to the men’s room. After I closed the door and made sure it was empty, I put my fedora on the counter, then reached inside my suit pocket, moved my father’s pocket watch to the side, and felt the bullet that had killed Rick. I moved it to the side and took out the bottle of Vicodin. I popped another pill and stood in front of the mirror, shaking and holding off a panic attack.

When I came out of the men’s room, I ran into Cora. She was going inside the ladies’ room. She was startled to see me, just as startled as when she had seen me back at Thumbs Up. We were alone, face-to-face, no Eddie Coyle watching over her. Cora and I stared at each other for a moment that lasted beyond eternity, an awful eternity that put razor blades inside my stomach. It looked as if she was struggling to breathe, both of our stares hot like the sun on each other’s winter-dried skin. It looked like she was going to come to me, hug me, kiss me, and cry.

Then, with an abruptness fueled by inner demons, failures, and disappointments, we moved on.

 

 

 

 

When we finished breaking
bread, Cora directed and Eddie Coyle drove us to the Courtyard by Marriott, a hotel that was situated below the Colonial Pinnacle, a seventy-five-acre one-hundred-million-dollar shopping center built on a rocky hillside standing high above Promenade at Tutwiler Farm, all rising over I-459 South. If it had been a sunny day, the view would have been spectacular. Six Flags over Jesus was down below, built across the street from Eastminster, as large as a coliseum with five levels of parking, sparkling and looking out of place in Trussville. A section of annexes was down below. Five of them looked as new as the church. The sixth annex stood out as being old and was probably there when the institution purchased the land. Once the job was done and the loot was divided, I-459 would be our escape route.

Eddie Coyle met with the inside man, the disgruntled sheep that Cora had befriended when she had worked at that gentlemen’s club in Detroit. His face was nothing to look at, which explained why he went to dark clubs that allowed women to have conversations in exchange for money. He was built like a gorilla with short, strong arms and a ridiculous receding hairline on a high forehead. Cora went to deal with him while Eddie Coyle and his brother stayed ten feet away and played the bodyguard role. The churchman had come to make sure it was still a go.

He told them who was scheduled to work on Sunday, and there had been no changes.

That done, we drove up to the top of the hill. Eddie Coyle, Bishop, and I went inside Jos. A. Bank and bought new suits, ties, and shoes. Jackie went shopping at Ann Taylor. Cora bundled up in her heavy wool coat and fedora and headed toward New York & Company and did the same. They wanted to dress the way the locals dressed.

Then we headed down Highway 11 and rode by the megachurch one more time. The annex was in the back and I wanted to do a drive through the church grounds and make sure nothing had changed that would stop us from exiting as planned. I needed to see the entrance and exit route firsthand. Later on I would need to see the stage-two vehicle and make sure it was running. I would need to drive it for a few minutes just to make sure there would be no mechanical surprises. It was part of what we did. We checked all the entrances and exits. The church was beautiful and looked as out of place there as I felt in my own life. That edifice of glass and marble was where the citizens of Birmingham and her surrounding cities went to stand side by side in prayer.

Silence held us all as we sat in the van and concentrated, focused on the mission ahead of us.

 

 

 

 

Back at the safe
house, we congregated in the kitchen. Eddie Coyle called another meeting and we talked over the plans again, each player saying out loud his or her role in this operation, each stating his or her obligation from top to bottom. We were like actors who were tired of running our lines. Eddie Coyle seemed like a calm director, but he was nervous.

My hands opened and closed and palms sprouted sweat as we solidified everything.