have no clue how to build a house try to put one up on an island with no hardware store nearby.” She pats the seat next to her.
Who am I to resist such an offer?
Kara
The last three days have been nothing but crappy weather, leaving me with a sense of impending doom. I haven’t been able to put my finger on why. It must be because we’ve all been housebound. Maybe it’s because we haven’t seen Jennings today, I muse. Since the breakthrough between Kevin and Jennings, their bond has grown so much stronger. And every half hour, he keeps asking me when his father is coming by. With an aggravated sigh, I understand now why Jed and Dean encouraged him in sports. “Poor kid. He’s trapped without remembering what the sun feels like.”
Just then, I get a text from Jennings. Got caught up with a conference call. How are things?
I type, I think Kevin’s about to morph into Margaret from Ray Bradbury’s poem.
All Summer In a Day? God, I haven’t thought of that in ages. Do they still teach that in school?
I’m about to reply when my phone vibrates in my hand with a 904 area code. Frowning, I answer it. “Hello?”
“Hello. I’m trying to reach Kara Malone,” an unrecognizable voice says. “This is Amanda with Teachers First Credit Union in Jacksonville. How are you today?”
I grit my teeth and politely answer, “This is she. How are you, Amanda?
Suspecting this is likely a telemarketing call, I interrupt. “I’m out of state traveling. Is there a problem with my account?”
“Actually, yes. Before we discuss the specifics, would you mind verifying a few pieces of information for me?”
After jumping through a few hoops, I panic slightly. “I just paid my bills online the other day. Did those go through? Has there been a hack of some sort?”
“I’m sorry, Ms. Malone. Please let me assure you there is nothing negatively wrong with your account. There has been no inappropriate attempts to access your account, nor any funds transferred out without your explicit authorization.”
I sag against the island counter. “Well, that’s a relief.” Even I hear the anxiety drain from my voice.
“Indeed,” she agrees. “Normally I’m making these calls for a different reason entirely.”
“I can imagine,” I reply wryly. We share a laugh that eases the tension. “Then what’s the issue?”
“Let me get right to the point. Our bank manager wanted me to give you a courtesy call to inform you we normally don’t accept large electronic transfers of this amount without advance notice, but since everyone in the Jacksonville metropolitan area is aware of the circumstances of your brother’s passing—”
I stop her polite rambling. “I’m confused. What are you talking about? I wasn’t aware of any funds being transferred into my account.” Certainly Maris would have told me if she planned on doing so. Wouldn’t she?
Her voice becomes cautious. “Ms. Malone, do you have access to a computer?”
“Yes, of course. Give me just a moment.” I walk over to the kitchen counter where my laptop has taken up residence. Impatiently waiting for it to connect to the internet, I log in to my banking application. “One more moment, Amanda,” I plead.
“Take your time,” she reassures me.
And the moment my dashboard appears, I understand why my bank’s calling. “Wh-Where did this money come from?” I whisper. There’s been a deposit for close to a quarter of a million dollars made into my savings account. My head is spinning with the possibilities, but there’s really only two.
“I wouldn’t be able to do that unless you want to open up an investigation into the deposit.”
I find it difficult to swallow. “If you can’t determine the account holder, can you tell me the bank where the money originated from?” That will tell me if it was Maris giving me Kevin’s inheritance or Jennings.
And what I need to do.
“Yes. That I can do. If you give me just a moment…” Amanda does this annoying click with her teeth through the phone while she types that makes me want to dive through it. But my frustration is redirected to anger when she says, “It appears the routing number originates from a bank in Seattle, Washington. Do you wish for me to open up an investigation?” she asks me.
“No.” I grip the counter behind me, holding myself up. I can’t believe he did this without talking with me first. “I know who the sender is. Please apologize to the bank manager