What was happening upstairs? Jacks imagined skeptical conversations, phone calls being made, undercover cops storming the place. Every stray glance from the bank tellers and the sole customer, an old lady with a walking cane, slashed at him.

"How's Bella?" Jacks asked.
Farzan's voice turned flat and ironic. "She's fine. You want me to put her on the phone?"

Farzan's heart leapt out of his chest. What did he have in his bedroom to ward off an attacker? His lap top? A wire hanger bent into a hook? He went to his closet and grabbed the only weapon he could think of – his prized logger, steel-tipped boot.