Cooper's Black Book

“Holy cow, what’re you trying to do?” Sheri shreiked. “You scared the crap out of me!” She made no attempts to cover her nearly-naked body. Sheri just brushed her long blonde hair out of her face. She’d been dancing in her underwear between the twin beds in her dorm room when she spotted Ashley in the bathroom doorway that separated the suite they shared.

“When are you going to give up the eighties?” Ashley asked while Bruce Springsteen’s baritone wailed, “This gun's for hire ....”

“I thought you were in class.”

“Cancelled.” Ashley punched the volume down on the IPad’s external speaker. “That’s a pretty fancy matching bra and panty combination for history class. Are you hoping to get lucky?”

“Screw you. No, it’s just, I feel more in control when I’m wearing matching underwear.” Sheri went to the tiny closet she shared with her mostly-absent roommate. She tugged at a white blouse that was wedged between several other shirts and at least as many pairs of jeans hanging on the rod, bowed under the weight. Then she grabbed the jeans hanging from a hook on the back of the closet door.

Ashley watched, then without preamble asked, “so…do you know who Robert Thomas is?” She snuggled in amongst the pile of pillows on top of Sheri’s thick comforter and kicked off her black leather Vans.

“No, should I?” Sheri pulled on her jeans.

“What about DB Cooper?”

Sheri knelt down in front of her closet. “Yeah, everyone knows DB Cooper.” Sheri looked over her shoulder from her position on the floor where she pulled out unmatched shoes. “Ah ha.” She tossed out a knee-high brown riding boot.

“I love those. I wish you had a normal-sized foot. I would so borrow these.” Ashley held up the small-sized boot and ran her hand across the smooth leather. She dropped the boot and looked over at Sheri, “Just so you know, not too many people have heard of DB Cooper anymore. The only reason I know about him is because of all your crazy unsolved crimes’ files.” Sheri had been collecting and studying unsolved crimes since she was in middle school.

Sheri pulled her head out of the closet and flipped over to pull on the boot she’d just uncovered from the closet floor, then she crawled over and grabbed the matching boot Ashley had dropped.

“It turns out Robert Thomas is DB Cooper or was.” Ashley sat up on the edge of the bed.

“You just made that up. Last thing I read was from like four years ago when some girl claimed he was her uncle, but her story didn’t add up.” Sheri began kicking all the orphaned shoes back into the closet while quickly closing the door to trap them inside.

“I didn’t just make it up. How much time do you have before your next class?” Ashley pushed her feet back into her skater shoes without unlacing them. Her short red hair flopped into her eyes as she jumped off the bed.

Sheri glanced at her watch. “I got like an hour and half, but it’s going to take longer than that for you to prove to me that you know anything about DB Cooper.”

“Let’s go over to Flying Star. I’ll buy.” Ashley pulled Sheri toward the door.

“I’ll take the free meal.” Sheri glanced in the mirror at her five-foot-four-inch frame carrying just a bit more weight than she wanted—back to school always added a few pounds. She shrugged at her reflection and grabbed her book bag and keys.

***

Sheri sat her tray on the table in the back corner of the crowded café. It was almost noon, and the local Albuquerque chain always filled up for lunch. They slid into the booth and cleared off their trays, placing their assigned numbers on the edge of the table.

“Okay, what’s all this crap about DB Cooper?” Sheri sucked on the straw in her large iced tea.

“So…you know Jacob’s from South Africa, right?”

Sheri nodded. She’d only talked to him a couple of times, but she liked his accent.

“Do you know why he came back to the states?”

“Seriously Ash, are we playing twenty questions or are you going to tell me why you think DB Cooper is Robert Thomas? I only have about an hour left.”

Sheri Gilbert and Ashley Mason had been best friends since they met in first grade. Sheri’s family had just moved back to Albuquerque after her dad left them alone in Kansas City, and she didn’t have any friends. Ashley had moved from across town to a new school and didn’t know anyone either. After the teacher made them color a calendar together to display September’s activities, they were instant friends. Sheri usually liked that it took Ashley forever to tell a story, but she didn’t have time for it today.

“Shhh… Fine but chill out; someone will hear.” She looked around to see if anyone had noticed Sheri’s rant. “Okay, so…Jacob’s father moved the family to South Africa for a business opportunity after Jake’s mom died when he was, I think like, four. Anyway, about a year ago, his dad gave him a package. Apparently, it was mailed in 2004 from his grandpa—Robert Thomas,” Ashley said the name slowly dragging out every syllable. “He was Jacob’s maternal grandpa. Anyway, Jake had no idea he was dead because his dad put the package away until…” Ashley stopped suddenly as the waiter approached with their food.

A tall skinny kid sat their salads on the table and asked, “How’s everything look?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s good.” Ashley snapped at him, and he walked away. “So…where was I? Ah…so his dad gave him the package when he turned eighteen. Turns out, it contained a black book and a safe-deposit box key. You see, Robert Thomas died in 2004. In the book he described how he was DB Cooper—hijacker who robbed a Boeing 727 in November of 1971. The key is for a safe-deposit box here in Albuquerque. Jake thinks the money DB Cooper stole is in that box.”

Sheri put down her fork. “Wait. Are you kidding? And he believes it? Why did he tell you about it? I mean…why hasn’t he gone to get the money? How do…”

“Hold on, hold on. He says he’s scared to get the money. He’s afraid he’ll get arrested. I think he wants me to get the money for him.” Ashley shrugged.

“Ash, this sounds…well…like bullshit.” Sheri resumed eating.

Ashley finally started to eat her salad. “According to Jake everything in the book made sense.”

“What makes him think there would be any money left? It’s been...like... fifty years.”

“Apparently, the book has a tally of expenses, and it shows a balance remaining.”

“How much?”

“He didn’t say.”

“Still…there’s no proof. I think it’s crap.” Sheri leaned back and kicked her feet up on Ashley’s bench.

“Maybe it is, but…what if it’s true? If I could get that key, we’d be rich.”

Sheri laughed. “Rich? Really? You know it was only two hundred thousand dollars minus the six grand that kid found in 1980. Besides how would you get the key?”

Ashley leaned in. “If I come up with a plan, will you help me?”

Sheri frowned, “You're serious.”

“Come on Sher. Let’s just talk about it. I mean, just for fun,” Ashley said.

“I don’t know. It sounds like a wild goose chase.” Sheri got up. “I gotta run.” Sheri rushed out of the restaurant, the heels of her riding boots clicking on the sidewalk.

***

“I got it!” Ashley burst through the bathroom door.

On this rare occasion, Sheri’s roommate was there. “Got what?” Maren looked up from her French Literature textbook.

“Oh...ah....where’s Sheri?”

Maren shrugged and returned her attention to her schoolwork.

Ashley ran out and nearly smacked into Sheri.

“Hey,” Sheri said.

“I got it. I got it. Come on, the bank closes in forty minutes.” Ashley grabbed Sheri’s arm and pulled her toward the exit.

Sheri resisted. “What? How?”

“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you in the car. The bank’s on Juan Tabo. Come on we don’t have much time. It closes at five.” Ashley tugged on Sheri again and this time she followed.

Once they were in the car, Sheri refused to start it until Ashley explained.

“Okay. just go I’ll tell you.”

Sheri started backing out.

“He’s passed out.”

“What?” Sheri hit the brakes.

“Go!” Ashley thumped her hand on the dash. Sheri started moving again.

“I told him I needed to drown my sorrows because I failed a biology test. I bought a thirty-dollar bottle of Scotch that I couldn’t afford. He loves that shit, but since I don’t like it, I brought tequila for me.” Ashley used air quotes when she said tequila. “It was actually water. I kept pouring, he kept drinking and finally passed out. I grabbed the key.” Ashley held up the flat metal key with a tiny number stamped on the top.

Sheri turned onto I-40 and picked up speed to match the flow of traffic--much faster than the posted speed limit. She glanced over at Ashley. “What if he wakes up?”

“I don’t think he will. He drank almost the whole bottle.”

“Oh shit, what if he dies.” Sheri swerved when the car next to her cut her off.

“He’s not going to die. Pass that guy. We’ve got to get there in the next twenty minutes.”

“Oh my gosh, Ash. This is crazy.”

“I know but fun, right?”

They both monitored the traffic as they weaved through interstate traffic to exit one six six.

“Watch out for that idiot,” Ashley called out as they nearly hit the side of a slow-moving dually turning onto Juan Tabo.

“Stop yelling.” Sheri snapped.

“There it is! There, there! Turn in here.” Ashley continued to yell, but Sheri did as she was instructed. “Park. Hurry.”

They both jumped out, slammed the doors of Sheri’s 2001 Honda Civic, and ran to the bank door.

Ashley dragged Sheri behind her to the nearest teller. “We need to get into a safe-deposit box.” She was still yelling while she held up the key.

“Ash, not so loud,” Sheri said.

The chubby teller looked at his watch. “The vault might be closed already.”

“Then open it. It’s not five o’clock.” Ashley wasn’t quite as loud but very direct.

“Hold on.” The man went back to a desk behind his station and spoke quietly to an older lady with white hair. She nodded and walked to Sheri and Ashley.

“Ladies, I’m Louise Carter. I understand you need to get in a safe-deposit box.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Sheri spoke up hoping her politeness would be more effective than Ashley’s demands.

“Follow me.” Louise headed toward the back of the bank. Ashley was bouncing up and down as they followed the little lady.

Within seconds the two of them stood alone with a large metal box in front of them.

“Are you going to open it?” Sheri looked at Ashley.

“Okay.” Ashley’s hands were shaking as she put the key in the box.

Sheri reached over and pulled the lid open.

“Holy Shit.” She picked up one of several stacks of twenty-dollar bills and flipped through it. “Look, the serial numbers all begin with the letter L and…” she flipped through the stack a second time, “these are all dated 1969. Oh my God.”

Ashley just stared and Sheri began counting the twenties in the stake she held. “...forty-seven, forty-eight, forty-nine and fifty. Holy shit, Ash that’s a grand. And there are one, two…”

There was a soft tap-tap at the door. “Ladies, I’m sorry to rush you, but we have to lock the vault in six minutes.”

“Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, TWENTY stakes. Ashley, you just found twenty thousand dollars from the only unsolved case of air piracy in the history of aviation.”