A not so good career criminal brings together four men with different backgrounds, to pull off the perfect Heist in this small Midwest town. After a mistake, the game of cat and mouse plays out, who is claiming victory...
A not so good career criminal brings together four men with different backgrounds, to pull off the perfect Heist in this small Midwest town. After a mistake, the game of cat and mouse plays out, who is claiming victory...
It was a cool, crisp morning in Steamboat, Missouri. The
perfect mix of cold air above the warm water from the creek
created the season’s first fog. Morning Park walkers enjoyed
the lifting precipitation off the waterway that ran through
town. In the town, two new bridges gave access, making the
old landmark bridge the new pedestrian trail pathway.
Steamboat is a small town, often referred to as the ‘City of
Pride’ by the locals. As such, it thrived on small businesses—
diners,railroad shops, and construction companies. One of the
more popular construction firms operated out of a small
trailer parked temporarily on a plot of land on the south end
of town. The owner had even gone as far as creating a small
parking lot in front of his quaint office. It really gave off a
homey feel.
The owner of the trailer, the head of the construction
company, was none other than Bo Foster. The trailer had two
compartments, the main office and a small meeting room by
the entrance. Bo’s office was quite simple. It consisted of a
large mahogany desk and a single bookshelf. Beside his desk was a window with a clear view of the parking lot and the
surrounding wooded area.
Bo sat behind his desk that lovely fall day, his nose deep in
a newspaper and his legs folded over his desk. Bo’s face could
be described as chiseled with medium cocoa skin. He had a
prominent jawline, covered with rough stubble that stopped
just below his ear. His hair was cut was high and tight. Bo
preferred business casual clothing and had on a white shirt
over brown dress pants.
Suddenly, the cellular on Bo’s desk started ringing. He sat
up and reached for it quickly with hope in his expression.
“Good day. I’ve been waiting for your call.”
Bo set down his paper and leaned back in his seat with a
loud sigh.
“Please, tell me you have good news.”
He fell silent and nodded his head along to the voice on the
other side of the line. Bo’s expression went through three
stages. He started chipper, then his smile deflated a little, and
finally, his eyes lost their shine. Bo nodded solemnly.
“Alright, I understand. Thanks for the call and take care of
yourself.”
Bo gently returned the phone to the desktop and stared at
it for a few seconds as he tried to process what he had heard.
He picked up his newspaper and tried to resume his reading,
but the worry building up within him impeded his concen-
tration.
Bo put the paper down once more and covered his face
with his hands as he sighed. He took a moment to steady his
breathing and tried to psyche himself up.
“Come on! You’ve faced tougher situations than this.”
As he was speaking, the phone rang again. Bo didn’t need
to check the caller ID to know who it was. He dreaded picking
up the call and let the phone ring for a few seconds. It per-
sisted, and finally, he caved and picked up the phone.
“Hello?”
Bo tried his best to steady his voice, but some of his
nervousness came through. He recognized the banker’s voice
as a reply came through.
“Hi, Bo. It’s me. I was just calling to check in on that deal
we talked about the other day.”
Bo’s shoulders slumped and he rested his elbows against
the desk as he responded.
“The client just called to cancel the contract. She backed
out before we could finalize things.”
The banker sighed on the other side of the line, and Bo
could picture him massaging the bridge of his nose.
“I thought this was a done deal, Bo? You seemed pretty
sure of yourself when we talked earlier.”
Bo nodded to no one in particular.
“They decided on a cheaper alternative. I tried my best.”
Bo could hear the banker settling into his seat and knew a
fierce argument was near.
“Our deal was that you wouldn’t take a single penny from
your next four houses. Surely, you can understand my concern
for one of those deals falling through.”
Bo felt anger rising deep within him and raised his voice
slightly as he replied.
“I know that. But my last two contractors insisted on being
paid what they owe. They threatened to issue liens and hold
up the buildings, so I had to follow through.”
Bo shook his head.
“My hands were tied.”
Bo took a deep breath and dropped his volume.
“Look, nothing haschanged. I just need a little more time.”
Silence met his response. Bo knew his caller well enough
to understand what that meant.
“I already gave you more time a year ago. Remember?
Look, you and I go way back. We’ve known each other, what?
Fifteen, seventeen years. But this is pushing it.”
Bo replied calmly.
“Exactly my point. You know me better than most. You
know I honor my commitments. I’m good at it. I just need a
little more patience on your part.”
The banker replied immediately.
“But what about the things outside of your control?”
Bo massaged one of his temples while he listened.
“The market is turning into a horror fest. I’ve never seen
it this bad. Even the guys on the board are shaken, and they
went through the madness of the mid-’70s and the late
2000s.”
Bo sank back in his seat.
“Ok.”
The banker went on.
“We have the highest number of recalls the bank has seen
in the last two years. We are a bank that lends, but the market
has us looking like a realty firm. I spend most of my time talk-
ing to clients, listing out foreclosures. It’s so damn frustrat-
ing.”
Bo sighed and nodded.
“Alright, I hear you. You don’t have it easy either. Look,
just give me a final date on the outstanding properties, and we
can work from there. Does that sound good?”
The banker grunted.
“Sure. But you won’t like it. I’ll call you later.”
Bo nodded and returned the phone to the desktop. He
glared at the phone for a few seconds, and rage flared to life
in his eyes. Bo cleared his desk in a single swipe, sending all
his documents and instruments flying all over the place. He
sighed and leaned against the empty desk with his hands on
his head.
Doug Harris walked into his garage, armed with a wrench. His
home had seen better days and was one of the many older buildings still standing in Steamboat. The paint was cracked
and faded beyond recognition, but it might have been blue at
some point. The place was a single-story bungalow, and the
garage was detached and further into the yard.
Doug looked about as beaten up as his home. His hair fell
just short of his jaw and had strands of gray mixed in. His eyes
were sunken and his forehead wrinkled. Doug grunted as he
approached a younger man hunched over a car.
“Hey, kid. See if this works.”
Doug handed the tool over to Steve, his nephew. Steve was
as scruffy looking as his uncle, with dark brown hair that
stopped just over his shoulders. His beard was a lot fuller. His
mustache, on the other hand, was a bit less.
The pair stood before a beaten-up old station wagon with
a workbench just to the left of the open engine. Steve tested
the weight of the wrench in his hand and furrowed his eye-
brows.
“Is this the right size?”
Doug walked right past Steve and made a beeline for the
beer on the workbench. He popped it open and took a big swig
before replying.
“How the hellshould I know? Why don’t you try it and find
out?”
Doug gently pushed Steve’s head away as he waltzed by,
and the latter sighed before bending over the engine to begin
work. He focused on the problem bolt next to the radiator and
began tightening it. The wrench seemed to fit just fine, and his
tension eased once he was in a steady rhythm.
Doug continued to enjoy his beer, and he mellowed slightly
once the buzz began to kick in. He leaned against the car and
stared out of the garage as he spoke.
“You know, seeing you hunched over that engine like that
reminds me a lot of your father.”
Doug turned to Steve and went on.
“He and I used to work on cars like this when we were just teenagers.”
Doug smiled as the memories came flooding in.
“Any engine we could get our hands on.”
Steve grunted as he continued to work on the engine.
“Yeah. There was always a car in every picture of him
mom bothered to keep around.”
Doug nodded and took another swig of his beer.
“Yes, sir. There was nothing your father and I couldn’t
figure out. As long as it had an engine, we would eventually
have it roaring to life.”
Doug laughed heartily and drank from his beer.
“We were also fiercely competitive back then. Your dad
and I would occasionally clash to determine who could fix an
engine faster or better. There was no end to our shenanigans.”
Doug turned his attention to the sky outside the garage
doors and went on.
“Your dad was easily the more spirited one. He even tried
to race one time.”
Steve looked up from his work in surprise.
“I never heard that one before. Are you serious?”
Doug nodded and burped.
“Very.”
Steve turned to the engine and went back to work.
“Mom never said anything about that.”
Doug grunted and nodded.
“I would have been shocked ifshe did. Your mamma didn’t
care much about the races. She was afraid he would kill
himself trying to win.”
Steve paused as he responded.
“Well, it didn’t matter in the end. He got wrapped up with
the wrong crowd and still ended up dead.”
Steve shrugged.
“A person has got to die sometime, right? Besides, mom
didn’t talk about him much. I guess she was too embarrassed?”
Doug eyed Steve from the corner of his eyes and grunted.
“Well, let me try to fill you in on a little bit of family
history. Your daddy ended up meeting someone that taught
him a thing or two about racing.”
Doug sighed and went on.
“Call it luck or whatever you wish. The result was his
fierce determination to be a race car driver. Despite his
obvious lack of experience.”
Doug stared at his feet.
“We all tried to talk him out of it, but your dad didn’t want
to hear it. He was determined to make it to the Winston Cup
and race with the big boys. One way or another.”
Steve looked up as he wiped his hand with a rag.
“I didn’t know that. Did he make it?”
Doug turned to Steve and shook his head.
“But wouldn’t it have been a great story if he did?”
Steve returned, gathered all the tools into the toolbox, and
carried it to the back of the garage.
“I’m not a fan of fairytales.”
He returned to the engine and stared down at his work in
satisfaction.
“All done.”
Doug acknowledged his declaration with a curt nod and
downed what was left of his beer.
“Your father never made it to NASCAR. But I can’t say he
didn’t try.”
Doug placed the empty bottle on the workbench and went
on.
“His biggest accomplishment was a couple of races down
at the county dirt track. All that ended during the champion-
ship race. He always said he would take the prize money and
buy him and your mom an older muscle car. She liked the ones
that had the stripes down the center.”
Doug gazed off into the distance.
“I remember it like it was yesterday. He was giving those pros a run for their money and was right on the ass of the
first-place driver.”
Doug shook his head.
“Unfortunately, the driver behind him wasn’t going to take
that sitting down. At the last turn, they sent your dear dad
flying off the track. His car flipped onto its roof and slid to a
halt.”
Doug sighed, and his expression mellowed.
“He wasn’t the same after that. Part of him died on that
track. What was left was just a shadow of his former self. That
was when he got involved with some shady characters over in
Illinois.”
Steve turned bitter and glared at his clenched fist.
“I hope it was worth it.”
Homecoming Heist by Tyson Collin is a pulse-pounding crime thriller that will keep you on the edge of your seat from start to finish. It is set in a small Midwest community, and this novel explores the consequences of greed, desperation, and the lengths people will go to get what they want.
At the center of the story is Doug, a down-on-his-luck local with a risky plan for a quick payday. With not much going his way and multiple strikes against him, Doug has nothing to lose. Desperate for a way out of his troubles, Doug enlists his nephew Steve and an old ally named Phil to help him pull off a daring bank heist. But their success is short-lived, as the small town is left in chaos and the police department is forced to bring in Major Crimes to help solve the case. Drama!
The investigation is led by lead officer Andy, a seasoned detective who initially dismisses young rookie Jay as inexperienced and out of his depth with the case. But as the clues start to come together and the stakes get higher, Andy and Jay must work together to unravel the web of lies and deceit surrounding the heist.
Collin's writing is expertly crafted, with a gripping plot and well-drawn characters that will stay with you long after you turn the final page. The tension builds steadily throughout the story, culminating in a heart-pounding climax that will leave you gasping for breath.
Homecoming Heist is a must-read for fans of crime thrillers and heist stories. It's a gripping, suspenseful novel that explores the darkest corners of the human psyche and leaves you questioning how far you would go to get what you want. Not to mention, the character development of all involved! Highly recommended for anyone looking for a thrilling and captivating read.