Page 68 of Once a Hero

Twenty minutes.

The bank door opened two doors away.

Beatrice came out carrying a colorful floral crossbody bag and wearing a different baseball cap. Jake wondered if those two items had been in the safe deposit box alongside the three-amber brooch.

She looked to her left and right, and made her way toward their parked car.

As Jake watched her, he noticed the two homeless men ambled her way. They brushed past her, and one of them produced a pocket knife—

“Watch out!” Jake yelled from the car. A sharp pain seared his thigh and he could not get out of the car.

The man with the knife took off running with the bag as Beatrice shouted for help.

Jake pulled himself out of the car. He leaned against the car and winced. When he looked up, Beatrice had the other homeless man in a chokehold as she kicked him in the groin.

The homeless man doubled over on the sidewalk and moaned.

“Help! He stole my purse!” Beatrice sprinted after Mr. Knife.

Hobbling toward the homeless man on the sidewalk, Jake called 911. He had never felt so helpless in his life. Fortunately, several tourists saw the situation and came to his aid.

They pinned down the homeless man until the SFPD arrived mere minutes later.

“He and his buddy tried to steal that lady’s purse.” Someone pointed toward Beatrice, who was jogging back.

“Lost him. My purse is gone.” She leaned against a pole to catch her breath.

After they gave their statements to the police office, Beatrice and Jake left for the airport.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“Ishould have gone into the bank with you.” It might be one of the few things he regretted in life, but Jake felt it all the more now that his feelings for Beatrice had grown stronger. “Next time don’t tell me no.”

“It’s my fault now?” Beatrice kept her eyes on the road as she drove the rental car.

“I’m not blaming you. After what happened at the cabin…” Jake shook his head. “I should have gone with you.”

“Like you said, I told you no.”

“Thank God you’re okay.”

Beatrice nodded.

“Tell me your three-amber brooch isn’t in the stolen purse,” Jake said as Beatrice stopped at a red light.

“In my jeans pocket.” Beatrice didn’t show him, though.

He didn’t press for it. “Whew.”

“You don’t trust me? Did you assume I put it in my brightly-colored crossbody bag?” Beatrice talked as she listened to the navigator on her phone telling her how to get to the private airport.

Jake sighed. “I’m guessing there’s more.”

“There’s something valuable in the crossbody bag.” Before she could continue, her hands-free phone rang. It was Ken.

“Got it, Bee.” Ken hung up without fanfare.

“Isn’t it nice to have employees who instinctively know that I’m driving and can’t read text messages so they call me to tell me three words and then hang up?”

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