The Weight of Living

30. Nightshifter

A bank was surrounded by police cars, press, and an ambulance in Milwaukee, Wisconsin.

A female reporter spoke. "We're here downtown in front of the City Bank of Milwaukee, and though a short exchange of weapons fire occurred just minutes ago, police and SWAT teams maintain position as we enter the third hour of this intense standoff. Authorities estimate as many as ten hostages are being held inside the bank; no word as yet on the identity of the suspects, or, uh-" There was a commotion behind her. "Something's happening. I think they're opening the door. Roger, are you getting this?"

Police, and others nearby, shouted over each other.

"No, don't shoot, don't shoot!" a man yelled.

"No, no, no, don't even think about it! Get the hell back!" Dean ordered.

Two men and a young woman exited the bank; a terrified security guard, Dean and Jocelyn; Dean pushing the other man in front of him and holding a rifle.

MILWAUKEE, WISCONSIN

ONE DAY AGO

JEWELRY STORE

An attractive young woman, Frannie, came out of the back with some papers in her hand. Dean turned to face her as she spoke. He was dressed in a dark suit.

"So what's it like, being a FBI guy?" Frannie asked.

"Well, it's dangerous," Dean said. "And the secrets we've gotta keep, oh, God, the secrets. But mostly it's, it's lonely."

"I so know what you mean."

"Yeah."

Sam, who was also dressed in a suit with slicked hair, and Jocelyn who was in a dress with a ponytail, were interrogating the manager, a middle-aged man.

"Helena was our head buyer," the manager told them. "She... she was family, you know? She said it herself, every years at the Christmas party. She said we were the only family she had."

"So there were never any signs that she'd do something like this?" Sam asked.

"No. Still can't believe it, even now. That night, Helena came back to the store after closing. Cleaned out all the display cases, and the safe. Edgar -- our night watchman -- he caught her in the act. He didn't know what to do, he'd known her for years. He called me at home."

"And that's when she took his gun?" Jocelyn questioned.

"She shot him in the face. I heard him die. Over the phone."

"Any idea what her motive could have been?" Sam inquired.

"What motive? It makes no sense. Why steal all this diamonds, all that jewelry, and then what? Just dump it somewhere, just hide it, and then go home and-"

"She killed herself?" Dean asked.

"Well, the cops said," Frannie replied. "She dropped the hair dryer in the bath and fried herself. They should know, right?"

"Yeah. Well, thank you, Frannie, I think that's all I need."

"Really? Because I've got more. You know," she looked around slyly, "if you wanted to interview me sometime. In private?"

Dean eyed Sam and Jocelyn guiltily across the room. "Yeah. Yeah, I think that's a good idea. You're a true patriot, you really are. Why don't you write your number down there for me?" Though, of course, he planned to bring his girlfriend as his partner.

"So you never saw the security footage yourself then?" Sam questioned.

"No," the manager said. "The police, they took all the tapes, first thing."