Daniel was standing by the front porch steps, holding a pair of garden shears he had never used before.

He walked over to my door and opened it before I could turn off the engine.

“I called the bank an hour ago,” Daniel said, leaning down so his face filled the open doorway.

“Why would you call the bank?” I asked, keeping my hands flat on the steering wheel.

“Someone made a four-hundred-dollar cash withdrawal from our secondary account this morning,” he said.

He reached past me and pulled the key out of the ignition.