G – Gone!

“This is a continuation of B – What’s in the Bag?. It was followed by D – Decision to be made. You may want to read them first if you haven’t already.”

G – Gone!

I grabbed a jacket and left my house and headed for Ronald’s. I had not gone more than a block when I noticed a car with tinted windows following me on the road. I knew it was following me because it went at the same speed I was going at. When I stopped, it stopped. When I moved, no matter what speed, it matched me. I didn’t know whether to run and try to escape or stop and confront the driver. I tend not to be very brave in times like these, not that I’ve been in a situation like this before. I prepared to run.

Needless to say, my hesitation was noticed and the decision was taken out of my hands. The car pulled right in front of me, the passenger door swung open and the driver called out, “Get in the car!” He had a slight French accent. This wasn’t a request. 

As I said I’m not a very brave person so I did what was asked. 

When I got into the car, the driver said, “Close the door!” rather emphatically. Which I did. The driver was a rather tall, muscular man. His hair was slightly gray. He looked to be in his late 60s.

“Where’s the money?” was the next thing out of his mouth. 

“Wha…Wha…What money?” I replied.

“Don’t play stupid with me, what did you do with the money in the bag?”

Before I could even consider an answer, a voice from the back of the car piped up. “Yves, don’t be so rough on the boy, or we won’t get his help.” I turned around to look and there in the back seat was a woman, with dyed red hair, brown eyes, and what appeared to be a pleasant disposition. She looked to be in her 50s. She had a gentle smile on her face as she looked at me and said, “Don’t be alarmed, Harvey, we need your help in finding our money. My name is Eve, same as my driver, only spelled differently. We work for an organization called Rescue Undocumented Immigrants Now. We raise funds to help those poor people that want to become hardworking members of our country. We were supposed to receive an anonymous donation of money a few weeks ago. It was supposed to be left at a local laundromat. When we got there the money was gone. There was a note with your name on it. But no one else was around. We, unfortunately, left the note there. It took us a while, but as you can see we discovered where you lived. Isn’t the Internet wonderful for finding people? Now can you help us find the money? Those immigrants are in desperate need. 

It sounded true to me. She had such a way with words. I told her I didn’t have the money anymore but would try to find it and get it back to her. She seemed pleased. 

“Thank you so much, we do appreciate it.” She handed me a card with her phone number on it and said that she would be in the area for only three days. “Just give me a call when you have the money.”

I opened the car door to get out and as I was about to shut it, Yves, the driver, called out, “Don’t forget, you got three days to get our money back. You don’t want to know what will happen if you don’t find it. Our donor, will not be very happy.”

With that, I closed the door and their car sped off. I immediately ran to Ronald’s house. When I got there and knocked on his door, he opened it an inch to see who was there. Seeing me, he opened the door wider, grabbed me, yanked me into the entryway, slamming the door and locking it behind me. 

My eyes surveyed his front room. It looked like a tornado had hit it. Furniture was tossed all over the place, pictures were torn off the wall, floorboards pulled up. All he could do was hand me a copy of today’s Newsday, and pointed to the headline on the front page. 

 “$500,000 Stolen From Chase Bank”.  

A quick read explained about a robbery that had occurred 4 weeks ago that was just being publicized now. Police were looking for anyone that had information that would help in the apprehension of the criminals involved. A reward was mentioned. 

Before Ronald could tell me what had happened, I told him what had happened to me.

He told me his story about stepping out to buy the paper that morning and coming home to the mess I saw now. He cried out, “That’s it! Forget what I said, I want nothing to do with that money.” 

“But we have to do something. We have important information that could help the police. And there is a reward also.”

“You’re on your own,” Ronald said.

There are some risks Ronald will take. Obviously, this wasn’t one of them.

I thought about what to do. I did have a friend in the police force. I was pretty sure he would be discrete and give me a hand. I took out my cell phone and dialed Jeff’s number. Jeff Jameson was a 7th precinct detective and has been a friend of mine ever since we met at the community group center working on writing grants. He’d know what to do. 

…to be continued in “J – Jeff comes up with a plan”