Round Robin
Chapter 1 (Naidoo)
STEPHANIE
Once upon a time is usually how most fairytales start but since my life is not much of a fairytale it would give off the wrong idea. While my life wasn't bad as such and I certainly wasn't waiting around for Prince Charming to find me and improve my life instantly, it was far away from ideal. But it was okay, and I made it work. Not all of us could live the dream and change the world, right?
I'm Stephanie Plum, Trenton-resident since I was born and work as a hairstylist. Despite the salon, I worked for being upscale and my clients paying a premium, I was paid minimum wage which made life challenging and meant I needed to subsidize my rather meager income by selling homemade jellies to whoever was interested. I lived in a tiny one-bedroom apartment in one of the seedier parts of town, couldn't afford much, and considered my interior design of random pictures and postcards from places all over the world that I wanted to go and visit one day an improvement. At least I didn't live with my parents anymore and would do almost anything to keep it that way.
My place was in the same area as my job, so I could easily walk to work every day, saving money on my commute. Walking also had the advantage that I could see in the gym, seeing that I got my fair share of a workout walking everywhere. While I wasn't in excellent shape thanks to my occasional consumption of donuts, I wouldn't say I was out of shape either.
I wasn't big on splurging or wasting money on things I couldn't get my money's worth from, lived a modest life, made the best of things I had, and did not daydream about things that would never be. There was no point in it and wouldn't get me anywhere.
It had been an excruciating week, with plenty of customers that didn't know what they wanted but expected me to read minds and fix whatever they thought was wrong with their hair, not seeming satisfied with almost anything I gave as an option or a suggestion. The ones that knew what they wanted and presented me with pictures of random celebrities chose to ignore my comments about that style maybe not working in their favor and complained when it didn't work out as they imagined. To some degree it had been frustrating, seeing all these people spend money on something as pointless as a hairstyle that wouldn't even last a week but easily cost what I'd made in that same week.
But finally, Friday was here, and I was ready for a weekend that didn't include people. Seeing as a long weekend was ahead of me, my friends Lula and Connie had made plans for heading to Atlantic City. I however had to decline, knowing it wasn't something I could afford right now. So, with them – and probably almost everyone else - out of town, I had no plans and liked it that way. Maybe I could finally get started on that book Mary Lou had lent me ages ago and I hadn't gotten around to.
Closing the shop Friday had never felt better, especially seeing that I wouldn't have to worry about showing up the next day, making this my first Saturday off in months. One or two colleagues had asked whether I could take over their shift, but I let them all down, figuring for once it should be their turn to show up and for me to enjoy a long weekend.
Walking home that night, I realized I was running low on a few essentials and made plans for a quick stop en route at a grocery store. The streets were almost spookily empty, making me think that most people had gotten a head start on their long weekend out of town. I passed a few areas that usually were buzzing with life but seemed almost eerily quiet right now and got, after a few more minutes, to my destination of a corner shop that was known around here for its rather low prices.
Browsing the aisles for everything I needed, I was somewhere in the back of the shop when I heard voices from the front, assuming it was the barely legal girl at the cash register and some customer. When his voice kept getting louder, I didn't hear her, but a second male voice that seemed the exact opposite of the first voice, calm and collected and a certain undertone of threat.
It had long been established that my curiosity would someday get me into a lot more trouble than I could fathom and maybe that day was today, I just didn't know it yet. Rounding the corner towards the register, I saw what I somehow had expected: the girl and some guy, what I hadn't expected however was the second guy who held the other guy at gunpoint and in a seemingly tight hold. While the girl behind the register looked like she'd pass out any minute, the other guy seemed rather cool for having a gun waved in his face.
After a moment of shock, I reached for my phone, intending to call the cops into a part of town they'd probably rather avoid altogether but never got to it, seeing as something must have alerted the gun-waving guy and he was suddenly facing me, gun still firmly placed against his hostage.
It took me a moment to realize that I knew the guy with the gun. We had gone to school together and his name was Arnold Bass. He had never been the sharpest tool in the shed and had been one grade below me in school despite being two years my senior.
"Arnold?" I asked a second later, wanting to confirm my suspicion. "Arnold Bass?" He looked at me with an odd mix of confusion and anger in his eyes. Though, as far as I could remember there had always been certain anger in his eyes, even as a kid. It was one of the reasons most of us stayed as far away from him as possible. That and the fact he had already run-ins with the law at the tender age of 13. It didn't get any better after that.
After a short moment passed, I saw recognition in Arnold's eyes. In all fairness, I would have been insulted had he not recognized me, seeing as I was the reason for the scar above his left eye. All you need to know about that though is he deserved it.
"Plum," he said courtly as a form of greeting. "What are you doing?"
I held up my shopping basket in answer. "What are you doing?" I asked back, not entirely sure how to handle this. His temper had always been short, and I figured when he had already crossed the line of entering a shop armed, there wasn't much he could lose at this point.
"What does it look like, Steph?" he yelled, and I wasn't certain where his sudden aggression came from. It wasn't like I posed as much of a risk to him.
"Honestly? Like you are getting yourself in a situation that will be tough to get out of," I said and wasn't sure what the hell I was doing. Wouldn't it have been a much smarter choice to simply hide behind an aisle and wait for… someone else to solve this?
"I passed that point long ago." He just started, and I wondered whether there was any truth to the rumors of him having robbed a bank.
"You sure?" I wondered. "Not sure what you have done so far that was so bad, but it probably was not as bad as you think."
"What would you know, Plum? My life's shit, I have no money and my mother abandoned me to go sailing the world with her rich bastard of a husband."
I had heard rumors about Angela Bass a while back. Though the sailing around the world part was new.
"And that has you so angry that you feel the need to rob a shop?"
"Yes – wait, what? No. My mother has nothing to do with that. I ran out of money. Bitches ain't cheap and neither are drugs and homies. So, I robbed a bank to support the lifestyle, because I can't expect any payout from my mother anytime soon."
Apart from me wanting to argue that it might be easier to just find new friends, hang out with a different kind of woman, and lay off the drugs, I figured he wasn't at a point where he wanted to hear anyone say that. So, I just shrugged for the time being.
"I need to think for a moment, so all of you shut up!" he ordered despite none of us having said anything in the last few minutes.
"I called the cops," I lied, knowing he wouldn't be able to contradict me for the moment. "They probably will be here soon."
"You what?" he screamed, and I figured that maybe I should have packaged that information a little differently.
"When you… when you saw me, wasn't I holding my phone in my hand?" I asked, waving the hand which was still grabbing the phone.
"You stupid bitch. Why would you do that?" he shouted, and I admit, at this point, I was certainly scared. While he didn't seem harmless per se before, he had a certain non-threatening aura, despite the gun in his hand.
"I… isn't it kind of obvious? You stand in a shop, waving a gun and threatening three people?" I summarized and it looked like he was just remembering what he was currently doing.
"I'm not threatening anyone. If anyone did anything it's him," Arnold accused the other man who seemed uncertain what to do. "He came in here, talking about me missing my court date and that he needed me to cooperate and come with him to the cops. Like, fat chance in hell. That isn't going to happen. I won't go back there so they can send me to prison. No way, no how."
"So, instead of going to prison for a bank robbery, you want to go to prison for a bank robbery and a hostage situation?" I asked cautiously, hoping to somehow reach a part of him that I could reason with. "Have you… have you thought this through?" Let's be honest, there weren't a lot of ways this could end.
"No, of course, I haven't!" he yelled. "I hadn't planned on running into him!"
"Okay," I answered quickly, feeling his level of aggression rise. "Then let's talk it through now. There… there aren't a lot of options right now," I told him but figured it wasn't news to him.
"The best one leading to me shooting Manoso here," he suggested and saw the guy struggling against the hold of Arnold's arm. And that meant something since the guy looked rather fit and like he was putting up one hell of a fight.
"You could do that," I said carefully, seeing a look of disbelief on the face of that Manoso guy. "But… then your life will forever be… fucked up."
"In case you didn't realize, Stephanie, my life already is."
"Maybe, but it is a lot easier to bounce back from a bank robbery than a bank robbery, a hostage situation as well as killing someone." I wasn't entirely certain about that of course but figured as long as you didn't kill anyone everything was sort of salvageable.
"So, what do you suggest?" Arnold snarled and I wasn't entirely certain what I would suggest. Other than not killing anyone.
"Put the gun down," I suggested and heard him laugh. Most likely not because he found me entertaining.
"Fat chance, Plum. The moment I lower that gun, he'll have me on the ground, probably using my gun on me and claiming it self-defense." He was most likely right, well, regarding the overpowering anyway. I hoped the gun was just optional.
"Then… give me the gun," I suggested, shuddering already since I did not like guns. Not even holding them without having to fire. "That way he can't… use it."
I was expecting another bout of laughter but was surprised when he seemed to think about it. "This is not as hopeless as it may seem," I went on, figuring when he was thinking about my suggestion – even for a moment – I might have reached a part within him that was reasonable. Maybe. "I mean, we can always pretend that this didn't happen, and no one saw a thing, right?" I asked, looking at the girl behind the register who was eagerly nodding as if her life depended on it.
Manoso seemed not to be convinced as much as the girl, but eventually nodded as well. "We can end this without anyone being hurt," he said in a deep and raspy voice.
Moments ticked by with no one said anything, and I as well as the shop girl seemed to stare at Arnold in careful and anxious anticipation. Maybe he needed a bit more of a convincer. "Arnold," I said, sounding cautious. "All of us are dealt the same miserable set of cards, hoping to make it work and get a break. The next card could always be that break. This, here, is your next card. It is however, up to you to decide whether the card is a good or a bad choice."
What surprised me was that he seemed to think about that.
"If this is a trick…" he more or less threatened and I shook my head quickly.
"It's not, definitely not," I reassured him and hoped for the best.
Arnold made a step towards me, pushing his hostage in front of him until they were only two or three feet away from me. And then he handed me the gun, just like that. For a moment I couldn't believe that I had succeeded with my tries and that I managed to diffuse the situation but had only a few moments to dwell on my success, since a second after I had been handed the gun, Arnold found himself on the ground and his hostage on top of him, holding his hands behind his back and heaving up. The girl behind the counter used that moment to pass out and the shop was all of a sudden more or less invaded by an army of men, all dressed in black head to toe, and guns were drawn. What the hell?
The previous hostage seemed to know them, handed Arnold over to one scary-looking guy, while another attended to the girl behind the counter, and everything somehow seemed a little chaotic. Maybe I needed to sit down since I didn't feel so good all of a sudden.
I heard someone call for someone else named Bobby and a second later the guy who had just looked at the shop girl was by my side, steadying me before I could pass out as well.
"Easy there," he said, letting me sink towards the floor slowly. Some light was directed at my eyes and his fingers found my pulse, asserting a moment later that I was experiencing the aftermaths of an adrenalin rush and would probably need a few moments for my body to refocus.
I didn't notice an awful lot around me for the time being and when I was once more clearheaded saw the guy who Arnold had referred to as Manoso standing in a corner of the shop, watching me. There didn't seem to be anyone else around, the shop looked like it had been closed for the night and my purchases in my basket were still next to me.
"Did that just really happen?" I asked confused. Seemed like a dream to me.
He just nodded and seemed surprised I was back with him. "You did well," he finally praised, and I wasn't sure I'd agree, seeing as I had no clue what I had done. This could have turned bad fast. "If it hadn't been for you, I might have died."
Instead of a reply I just shrugged, not sure what to say to that. "I'm certain everyone would have done it," I finally settled on and saw him look at me curiously.
"Not so sure about that," he explained, and I shrugged some more. A moment later I saw a cop enter the shop, nodding at Ranger and then looking at me. "Ma'am, I have a few questions I need you to answer," he started, walking towards me with a pad and pen, ready for whatever I was about to tell him.
The interview lasted a total of a few minutes, after which the cop was gone again, and we were left alone again.
"I'm Ranger, by the way."
"Stephanie," I said, more or less waving awkwardly at him and finding it rather curious.
"Don't take this the wrong way, but you don't look like someone who could get easily overpowered, so…," I started, letting my sentence hang in the air unfinished. It wasn't my business and maybe it was once more my curiosity that eventually would probably really get me killed.
"Mistake on my end. Shouldn't have gone after him without my backup. But figured, if I don't act now, he might be gone for good. Learned my lesson," he just explained, and I shrugged once more. Quite a lesson.
"Thanks for the assist though. You kept your head in the game and was able to get through to him. Impressive."
"It's nothing," I said, waving him off, and saw him step towards me a moment later, extending a hand my way and helping me up from my sitting position with ease.
"Can I offer you a ride somewhere?" he asked, and I shook my head, figuring that walking the remaining few blocks to my place seemed like a refreshing activity right now.
"Thank you, but no thanks. I don't live far from here. The fresh air and a walk might be good for me."
I saw him nod in comprehension and produce some card a moment later, giving it to me.
"I owe you, big time. This is my card. I own a security company. If you ever need anything, anything at all, call me. It would be my pleasure to repay the favor."
I took the card and looked at it. Black, simple, a silver font revealing the name RangeMan as well as a phone number and a name. Carlos Manoso.
"Thank you," I just said, not sure what to do with it and knowing that he'd probably never hear from me again. What would I need with a security company?
A moment later the two of us left and I saw him get into a shiny black luxurious car, which made me reconsider his offer for a ride home for a moment.
I watched him speed off and went my way as well, certain our paths would never cross again.
Oh boy, was I wrong?