Chapter 5: The Bank Lobby

On Monday morning I walked into Corwin Savings at nine o'clock with fourteen people waiting in line.

Troy's desk stood in the open on the lobby floor, behind a glass nameplate.

He was talking to an older couple about a car loan, and he saw me over their shoulders.

His face went through three expressions and settled on relief.

"Robin," he said, and stood up. "Thank God. I've been calling you since Saturday."

"I know. I blocked you."

The older couple looked at each other and shuffled their chairs back.

I laid a single sheet of paper on his desk.

I had printed it that morning from the county recorder's website.

"What's this?" Troy asked.

"A lien on my silos," I said. "Recorded Friday afternoon."

The line behind me went quiet.

"Ninety thousand dollars, secured against my property, with a pledge agreement signed Robin Hartigan."

"Honey, this isn't the place."

"It's the perfect place. Read the witness line."

He didn't look down.

"It says Troy Lowry," I said, loud enough for the tellers. "It was notarized in this branch on Friday at five forty-one in the afternoon."

"You were here," Troy said quickly. "You came in after work. You were upset, you don't remember."

"On Friday at five forty-one, I was in the dispatch office in Bellmont."

"You can't be sure of that."

"I swiped my badge at five thirty-eight and again at six," I said. "My supervisor was standing next to me. So were eleven drivers."

Somebody in the line made a small sound.