“I’ll call you Friday,” he said.

“With the rest of the money.”

I watched him leave the diner and climb into his rusty pickup.

He pulled away slowly and used his turn signal before merging onto the busy highway.

I came through the double doors of the county bank branch at thirteen hundred hours.

The lobby was bitterly cold, with air conditioning pouring straight down from big silver vents.

I skipped the empty waiting area and went up to the second teller window.