Martha, the head teller, folded her hands on the countertop.

Her knuckles were white against the dark marble edge, and her eyes stayed on the front door.

“I tried to run your utility company check an hour ago, Clara,” Martha said.

I turned the silver band on my right ring finger twice.

“Did it bounce?”

“The system caught it before it ever got to the clearinghouse,” Martha said.

She looked past my shoulder at the front glass doors.

“Dean came in late yesterday afternoon with his executor certificate and a formal legal hold.”