Christina Messerschmidt Indicted in Intrust Bank Heist

Christina A. Messerschmidt, 25, of Wichita, Kan., stood accused Wednesday of a cold-blooded daylight robbery at Intrust Bank, where she allegedly flashed a threat note and promised to pull the trigger if challenged. A federal grand jury slapped her with a single count of bank robbery following the December 16, 2016, heist at the bank’s South Webb branch.

According to court documents, Messerschmidt handed a deposit slip scrawled with the words, ‘Give me $1,000 or I will shoot you,’ to a trembling teller. She backed up the threat with a verbal warning: ‘If you push it, I’ll do it.’ The teller, frozen but compliant, handed over the cash as surveillance cameras rolled, capturing the entire episode in grim detail.

What sealed her fate wasn’t just the footage—it was familiarity. Bank employees immediately recognized Messerschmidt as a customer who had opened an account just weeks earlier, in November. They flagged her to police and provided her address, turning a routine robbery into a swift manhunt with a direct path to arrest.

Messerschmidt now faces up to 20 years in federal prison and a $250,000 fine if convicted. The charges carry the full weight of federal prosecution, with Assistant U.S. Attorney Alan Metzger leading the case. The FBI and Wichita Police Department jointly handled the investigation, piecing together the timeline from deposit slip to doorknob.

In a separate but related indictment, Miguel Arreola-Rosas, 37, of Kansas City, Kan., was charged with unlawfully re-entering the U.S. after deportation. Found in Wyandotte County, his presence triggered immigration violations that could land him up to two years behind bars. Immigration and Customs Enforcement led the probe; Assistant U.S. Attorney Trent Krug is prosecuting.

As with all federal indictments, both Messerschmidt and Arreola-Rosas are presumed innocent until proven guilty in a court of law. The allegations, while damning, remain unproven. Still, for the staff at Intrust Bank, the memory of that December morning—and the face of a customer turned criminal—lingers like gunpowder in the air.