By ten o’clock, the thick humidity of a South Carolina morning had already settled heavily over Beaufort.

I drove my old sedan down Main Street, the air in the car thick and stuffy because the vents hardly worked.

I passed a run-down strip mall at the edge of town.

A sign painted on a brick wall advertised Arthur Vance, Attorney at Law, with cheap notary fees and real estate closings.

I watched the sign in my rearview mirror for a moment before I turned into the bank parking lot.

The thick glass doors of the First Carolina branch slid open with a soft electronic chime.