Bank Heist at St George

By Maelyn Bjork

More than three years before, leaders of the FLDS colony abandoned three teenage boys in St. George, Utah, to fend for themselves. Even though they were in foster care for a time, they struggled financially. In desperation, the oldest boy, Matt, comes up with a clever plan to rob a local bank, and they are successful. At the time of the robbery, an FLDS woman, Jasmine Jensen, and her son are in the bank. She is on an errand for her ailing husband, Heber. Jasmine’s son, Langdon, suggests that he knows one of the robbers.

Investigating the robbery are FBI agent Dan Forester and an officer of the St. George PD, Maggie O’Donnell. They meet, and there is an instant attraction between them.

As the health of Heber, Jasmine’s husband, worsens, she calls on Maggie for help with one of her children. Jasmine’s older sister, Jenna, a runaway from the polygamous community sixteen years earlier, has returned to Utah. Jasmine, with Jenna’s help, decides to try and escape from the FLDS community with her three children.

Dan, a confirmed bachelor, and Maggie begin to date, and their attraction grows. But how can they be together when Dan lives and works in Las Vegas, 115 miles from St. George? Can Jasmine successfully escape the polygamous lifestyle?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jun 24, 2019
• ISBN: 9781796042313

Maelyn Bjork

Maelyn Bjork grew up in Utah, married and taught school in that state. She also lived and worked, in Arizona, California, and Colorado. She has always loved to read and soon the reading gave her ideas and inspired her to write. Once she retired from her teaching position she began to write and it became her passion. She holds a master's degree in foods and nutrition. She and her husband also love to travel especially to cruise. She lives in a suburb of Salt Lake City with her husband and demanding cat named BeBe.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Get up! Come on, we’ve got big things to do today. Drake shook Trent’s shoulder.

Lea’ me alone. The boy on the top bunk pulled the blanket over his head.

Get up on your own, or I’ll dump you in the shower. Matt’s made coffee. We got to be ready and be out of here before noon. Drake yanked the thin blanket off the boy and tossed it on the bottom bunk.

"Okay, okay, I’m up. Trent stretched, catching his big toe in the sheet and ripping the worn old fabric. Shit! Ratty old sheet." He hopped around the small crowded room, finally freeing his foot from the cloth.

Trent staggered across the small hallway into the galley kitchen. He reached around Matt’s broad shoulders and grabbed a mug from an open cupboard. He poured the cup full of the brew and, at the first sip, cut his lip on the chipped edge of the mug. He pulled back and stared at the mug. How come everything’s gone to crap around here? he bellowed.

Calm down. You’ll wake the baby sleeping next door, Matt said. I know we need a lot of new stuff around here, and that’s one reason we’re going to hit the bank. He grinned over his own mug of coffee. He reached around Trent and picked up a piece of toast. I thought we’d trip over to Vegas when we get the cash. But if you don’t want to participate, you can stay here, alone.

Yeah, Vegas. Can’t wait, Trent said.

We will come back here, lie low, and live a normal life, as well as spend some of the loot on sheets, towels, new dishes, and other stuff we need. Got it?

Yeah, okay. I’m going to take a shower. Trent ducked into the small bathroom. After his shower, he pulled on a clean, western-style shirt and underwear. Smiling into the foggy mirror, Trent Jacobson felt almost human. His jeans were rumpled and hadn’t seen the inside of a washing machine in recent history. Yet his body was clean, and that should count for something. Sometimes he wished he could be coolheaded and focused like Matthew, but it wasn’t in his nature.

When the three of them had been dumped on the outskirts of Saint George, Utah, over three years ago, they were told that they were not useful to the colony or the church anymore. They knew it was because teenage boys were a threat to the elders of the church. The practice of the Fundamentalist Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (FLDS Church) was polygamy, and the older men married several wives and preferred the virginal young girls. The elders of the church pulled away the young girls from any friendship they may have had with boys their own age.

Trent had been frantic and so terrified. Where would they live? What would they eat? It took Matt to scope out their options, to locate a safe house of sorts. Soon they were all enrolled in a local high school and were forced to take tests (most of which Trent failed). Matt, of course, qualified for regular courses. Because Matt was a senior, he needed only two semesters; he made good grades and graduated. Even Drake did okay in that large busy high school.

Matt and Drake even did pretty well in physical education classes. They were lucky because, at River Mesa, children or teenagers were not allowed to play competitive sports. Drake found he liked track, and Matt, being as tall and strong as he was, loved basketball—but not Trent Jacobson; he didn’t have the coordination. If the focus of the course he was enrolled in didn’t have something to do with a vehicle with an engine sitting on or sporting two to four wheels, he didn’t understand it, nor did he want to.

Come into the living room. We need to go over our plan of attack. Matt waved Trent in. Okay, first, we all wear jeans, western shirts, boots, kerchiefs tied around our necks so we can pull them up like masks, and of course our hats. When I give an order to the first teller and ask her to begin filling my sack—Matt waved a beige canvas sack at him—Drake will start at the other end of the teller line and do the same. Trent, you will stay at the door, grab the guard, take his gun, keys, and handcuffs. Oh, do not forget, we don’t use our real names. Trent, you’re Tex, Drake will be Duke, and I’m Maverick. Now for a small test, Tex, get the guard’s weapon.

Trent stood stock still, mouth agape. What?

Matt slapped him on the shoulder. "You’re to stay at the door, remember? Tex!"

Okay, okay. I’m guarding the door, and I grab the guard’s gun, handcuffs, and keys. Do I get to shoot him?

No! Matt smacked Trent’s forehead. You lock the door so no one gets in or out. Yell at the customers to get down on the floor facedown. Now as Duke and I go through the four tellers’ desks, remember, I’m Maverick, he’s Duke, and you’re Tex. The plan is we’re going to carefully empty the tellers’ cash drawers and avoid dye packets that could explode. Now who am I?

Trent yelled, Maverick! And my name’s Tex! He gave him a slight bow. Nice ta meetcha.

CHAPTER ONE

As Jasmine wrestled with the wet bedding and towels, she struggled to hang them on the round clothesline. The early April wind whipped the sheet into knots. Though it was late morning, it was still chilly on this windy spring day. She fought the wet linens and was forced to stop because her cold, rough hands became numb. As she reached in the basket for the last sheet, one of the women in her household called to her from the kitchen door. Jasmine, get in here. Heber wants to speak with you. Shelly, sister wife number 3, waved her hand at her.

Is he in his room? Jasmine asked, sticking her cold, wet hands into her apron pockets. Shelly stuck her thumb up to suggest the floor above and nodded.

Jasmine hurried upstairs, passing six closed doors. Each wife had a small room of her own; plus, the sixth room housed the eldest girl, who was now sixteen and of marriageable age. Jasmine paused at the seventh doorway at the end of the hallway that led into the large master bedroom. Softly, she knocked at one of the white double doors.

Come in. The masculine voice sounded low and strained.

She walked into the large room and crossed to the king-size bed with its massive carved oak headboard. She gazed down at the big burly gray-haired man lying there. You wanted to see me?

Yes, I need … you to go into town for me. He struggled to sit up, and his breathing became ragged.

Into Saint George? She stood next to the bed and folded her arms, trying to hide her hands from Heber’s view.

He glanced down at her. An errand … to the United Bank of Dixie, to make a deposit. A deep cough interrupted his words, and he wiped away spittle with a soiled white handkerchief. Go into the closet. He huffed a deep, rattling breath. Another cough, and he tried to clear his throat. On the lower shelf above my shoes—he inhaled a wheezing breath—you’ll find a bank bag with a zipper.

She found the bag and took it back to the bedside. It’s heavy, she said as she hefted it.

Yes, there’s $15,000 and change in there. He took a rattling breath. I sold some cattle. Look inside. Another cough racked him, and he struggled to clear his throat. In the bag, you’ll find a deposit slip. Taking a deep breath, it rattled in his chest. Take it to the teller J. Fornter. I usually work with him. Heber dropped his head and stopped to take a large breath. Drive the blue van. The keys are on the dresser.

Why did you choose me for this important errand? she asked.

Because you’re the only woman around here with any brains in her head. He scowled, shook his head, and was in the grip of another violent cough.

Oh. She felt her face grow warm. May I fetch you a clean shirt and handkerchief? She could see the brownish stains and a spit of fresh blood on his shirt.

He glanced up in surprise. Yes, that would be good.

She found the clean items, but first, she went into the bathroom, soaked a washcloth in warm water, and brought a towel. Sit up close to the edge of the bed. Let’s clean you up a little. She wiped his face and chest and helped him change shirts. She shook out his pillows. Is there anything I can get for you to ease that cough?

Yes. While you’re in town, find some strong cough medicine. There’s an extra thirty dollars in the bag. He took another deep breath. Buy yourself some hand lotion. You’re too young to have wrinkled hands. You don’t need to bring me the change. Also, put on another dress and fix your hair.

Of course, husband, I’ll go right away. She picked up the soiled clothing and the bank bag, flashed him a brief smile, and left, quietly closing the door.

After changing her dress from an old brown to a newer one of light gray, she tucked the bank bag into a large brown paper sack and walked downstairs. She took the soiled items to the laundry room, which had an outside door. As she walked out into the garage, Shelly followed her. And where are you going? the sister wife asked in an authoritative voice.

On an errand for Heber.

You’ve changed your dress. What about the wet clothes? Shelly asked with a frown.

You can finish hanging them because I did most of the laundry. When do you think we’ll get the dryer fixed? Jasmine continued walking into the double garage, raising the large double door and then climbing to the blue van.

Shelly frowned. When one of Heber’s lazy sons comes over to fix it. She threw up her hands and stomped back into the house.

As Jasmine drove down the unpaved, hard-packed dirt road and turned west toward the highway, she passed the sign reading River Mesa. It should also read Home of the oppressed FLDS female gender, she mused.

Glancing into the rearview mirror, she spotted her eldest son running behind the vehicle, waving his hands. She stopped the van and leaned out the window. Why aren’t you in school?

First, tell me where you’re going, he said, ran around the van, and climbed into the front passenger seat.

Okay, let’s start over, Langdon. Why are you not in school? she asked again.

It’s a half day because tomorrow is Saturday, no school. So they let us out today at noon. It’s Easter on Sunday, remember? Can we color some eggs? Now where are you going?

I’m on an errand for Father Heber.

Can I come along, please? He bounced on the seat.

She took in a deep breath. Okay, put on your seat belt. She reached over and smoothed down his brown hair. Is the whole school dismissed or just the younger grades?

Everybody, the whole school, and even me because I’m in middle school and the sixth grade, remember?

You’ve made it to the sixth grade. Amazing. She hid a smile.

He blew out a breath and twisted in his seat belt to look at her. Yeah, I’ll be twelve on July 10. Do you recall my birthday?

She laughed. How could I forget the birthday of my firstborn son?

Okay, its good you remembered since you have two other kids. I thought you might have mixed us up. Keep driving. Did you bring enough money for us to have some lunch?

You expect lunch as well as a drive to Saint George? she teased.

Well, I just thought … you know. We didn’t get any school lunch today. He glanced down at his navy blue jeans with a hole in the knee and made an effort to brush the dust from them.

As she turned north on the highway and picked up speed, he began punching buttons on the radio. He found a station playing classic rock, sat back, and smiled.

"I don’t think we should listen to that music. It’s … forb—"

He interrupted her, What, evil music? I don’t think I’ll find a station playing FLDS hymns, Mom. A song began to play. "That’s the CSI: Las Vegas theme song by the Who. It’s called ‘Who Are You.’"

How is it you know the name of the song? she asked with a frown.

"Internet. Each CSI show has a theme by the Who. There used to be three of them, now maybe only one—shows, I mean. But the first one, CSI: Las Vegas, finally quit after fourteen years. But you can watch it on cable."

What was this TV show about? Have you seen it? she asked.

A couple of times. It’s about crime scene investigators. Pretty cool, he said.

Okay, and where did you see this program? his mother asked.

At Dennis’s, in the basement. He glanced outside at the passing fields just starting to show some green from the planting. Where are we going first?

To the bank, to make a deposit for Father Heber. He sent me because he’s a little under the weather. Afterward, we’ll do a little shopping and maybe find some place for lunch.

Okay. The song on the radio changed to a love song by the rock group Journey. They both were quiet for the next few miles.

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Matthew/Maverick stood in the shabby living room of the one-bedroom apartment that the three young men shared. Because he had attended Dixie College for two semesters, he had been allowed to rent student housing. No matter what I do, this place is still a dump. He glanced around at the sagging couch, the worn, threadbare drapes, and the stained carpet. They did have an old TV, which he had purchased for fifty dollars. But the apartment was shelter on a cold night, and the three of them knew what it meant to be homeless.

You guys ready? he called out.

Yeah. Duke/Drake came out of the bedroom, dressed very much like Maverick—old jeans, western shirt, boots, and a cowboy hat. He was tying a red print kerchief around his neck and pulled it up around his face. Maverick did much the same with his blue bandanna.

The third young man, Trent, came out of the bedroom, tucking his shirt into his jeans. He picked up his hat and jammed it on his head. What do ya think? Do I look like a bank robber, Matt—I mean, Maverick? He grinned.

Tex, where’s your bandanna? Maverick scowled at him.

Oh yeah, I’ll go get it. He ran back into their cramped bedroom.

Okay, guys, let’s go over the plan once again. I parked the truck behind the Finally Fresh Market. The car we’re driving now is down in the parking lot, Maverick said.

What car? Trent/Tex asked.

It’s the little navy Honda. Come to the bedroom window, and I’ll show you. Maverick pulled the drape back and pointed. Now are we all ready? Let’s go.

The three of them walked down the outside stairway to the parking lot and stood near the Civic. Where did you get this car? Duke asked.

At the local elementary school. Maverick stopped at the car door, pulled on his leather gloves, slid in behind the wheel, and started the engine.

Won’t somebody miss it? Tex asked.

"Probably not, at least not until this afternoon. Besides, I just borrowed it, Maverick answered. The kids are out of school for Easter vacation, but the teachers are still there."

Man, you are full of surprises, Duke said and settled back into the seat, snapping on the seat belt and tugging at his cheap gloves.

If we want to be successful, the plan’s the thing. Maverick laughed.

CHAPTER TWO

Jasmine found a parking place as close to the bank as possible. She was nervous carrying so much money around, even though she had hidden the bank bag in a grocery sack.

The branch of the United Bank of Dixie was located in a strip shopping area. It was in the corner space, which the bank had leased for one year. The company had already broken ground on their new building. It would be larger and have more space for safe-deposit boxes and offices for the manager and loan officers. It was nearly noon, and the branch with four tellers was becoming crowded with customers.

Jasmine tucked the bank bag tightly under her arm. She and Langdon stood in a long line, waiting for the next teller to become available. The boy wandered to a table where pens and pencils were located. They were there for the customers’ use. There was a calendar which read April 3. He turned and noticed the bank guard standing by the door, picking at his nails with a file. Langdon fidgeted and wandered back to stand by his mother.

His attention was pulled to the bank’s outer door. It swung open and three tall young men came in dressed as cowboys. They all had kerchiefs around their necks and pulled them up around their faces. For a moment, Langdon thought they were part of a skit or joke, until one of them lunged at the guard and threw him to the floor.

Another one of the guys yelled, Hold up! Get down on the floor!

Jasmine grabbed her son and pulled him down on the hard tile floor. The door guy tackled the guard and handcuffed him behind his back. He pulled out the guard’s service revolver and held it up. Everyone, facedown on the floor. To emphasize the order, he aimed the gun and fired two shots into the ceiling.

Just as the teller from cage number 1 went to reach for the panic button, the third robber pulled her back and yelled, Get down! He threw her on the floor and began to empty the cash drawers.

Jasmine was terrified not that she would be hurt but that the money in her possession would be discovered by the robbers. She tucked the sack underneath her chest and stomach, reached for Langdon’s head, and pushed it to the floor. Shush, don’t look at them, she whispered.

Mom, I think I know one of them, he whispered back.

No, shush, be quiet, Jasmine said and touched his shoulder.

Others on the floor were not so quiet. Please let me up, an obese man said. I can’t breathe.

Another customer, a young girl, began to cry. Please don’t hurt us.

Both the robbers behind the tellers’ windows worked quickly, stuffing money in canvas bags. The young man working the teller’s window directly in front of Langdon said, We’re done. Let’s go. The boy noticed that they had stuffed the money in beige canvas sacks with some printing on the side.

The two young men who had taken money from the tellers walked to the door. The young robber standing at the door fired another round across the room and hit the drive-in window. It cracked but did not shatter. The three of them left through the front door, and one of them said, Give me the keys. He locked the door, and the robbers disappeared.

Maverick pulled his bandanna down and calmly strolled down the strip mall sidewalk. Bandanas off, he ordered, pulled his kerchief off, and stuffed it into his pocket. He glanced back at his two companions, making sure they did the same. He led them into a toy store four doors south of the bank.

The shelves were stacked floor to ceiling with all manner of toys and games. The lighting was poor, and not a clerk was in sight. There was one customer, a woman, and she was comparing two dolls in boxes, standing in one of the two narrow aisles. Maverick led them down the first aisle with Tex behind him, and Duke took the second aisle. He tipped his hat at the woman holding the dolls.

Seconds later, they reached the rear of the shop. Maverick heard a toilet flush from behind a door to the left. To the right was an office, the door ajar, and the man inside could be heard talking on the phone. The three of them eased by both doors and to the rear exit.

The door was equipped with an escape bar to open and go out. From the outside, the door was always locked.

In the alley behind the strip mall sat the battered, rusty twenty-five-year-old tan-and-orange Ford truck, exactly where Maverick had left it early that morning. Get in. They jumped into the rusty old truck, and Maverick drove carefully out of the alley and onto the main road into the usual heavy traffic.

Ending his phone call, the manager of the toy store, Shane Shelby, came out of his office. He thought he heard the thunk of the rear door closing. Had he forgotten to close the door securely that morning? His attention turned to the restroom when he heard the flush of the toilet. Wanda, you in there? He tapped on the bathroom door. She cracked the door open, and from the corner of his eye, he could see her tug down her skirt over those wide hips of hers.

Yes, I’ll be right out. He now heard the water run in the sink.

Another feminine voice from the front of the store called. Sir, do you have any other Jennifer dolls other than these two?

He hustled up to where the woman stood at the front desk, holding two doll packages. Let me see. He glanced at the boxes of the formally dressed dolls. He reached up high to the back of the shelf holding several different dolls of the same type, brought down two more, and showed them to the woman. These are from the new princess collection. He smiled.

Another potential customer, a young man, came into the shop. Excuse me, where’s the Legos?

Shane walked to the front of the store and gestured to the left aisle. They’re midway down this aisle on the left side.

The first customer set one of the dolls on the counter near the cash register. I’ve decided to take this one. Shane rung up the woman’s purchase, and Wanda hustled up the aisle where the young man had three Lego boxes on the floor.

As the first customer touched the glass front door to leave, police sirens drew the attention of the people in the store. The woman with the doll turned to the door and looked out. Two cop cars, I wonder. The young man with a box of Legos in his hand peered out through the glass door. Wanda and Shane stepped out of the store, stood on the concrete walkway, and watched four police officers run toward the bank. Other people were spilling out of the supermarket and a dress shop at the end of the strip mall.

Shane touched the young man holding the Lego set. Let me ring that purchase up for you, and then we all can see what’s going on. The two men turned back into the store

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As soon as the three bandits left the bank, the customers and employees began rising from the floor, some brushing themselves off. Jasmine was still on her knees, clutching the bank bag to her chest. She felt a hand under her arm. Langdon, already on his feet, reached down to help his mother stand up.

The bank manager ran to the guard at the front door and lifted him. He was forced to search the man’s pockets for the handcuff key and unlocked the guard’s handcuffs. As he brushed the older man off, he said, Are you okay? Then he turned around to address everyone else. Please listen. The police are on their way here. I’m sure they’ll want a statement from all of you.

But I need to get back to work, one young girl said. She stepped to the door, pulled on it, and found it would not open. It’s locked! They locked the door!

Please just relax. The police will want information from all of you. The bank manager continued speaking as he pulled keys from his pocket and opened the double glass doors.

Jasmine, feeling