“I identified suspicious recurring transactions. Customer became confrontational when I began compliance escalation.”
Monica looked up from the floor.
“That’s not what happened.”
Preston looked at Karen.
“How much?”
“Eight thousand. Recurring monthly checks.”
“Source?”
“Claims it’s her son.”
“Claims?”
Karen nodded.
Preston looked at Monica.
Then at the grocery bags.
Then at the crowd.
He had a choice.
He could slow things down.
He could examine the account.
He could ask Devon what he had seen.
He could look at the check.
He could call compliance.
He could help a seventy-three-year-old woman off the floor.
Instead, he chose the explanation that protected his employee and his authority.
“Good catch,” he told Karen.
Devon’s stomach dropped.
Monica stared at Preston.
“You haven’t looked at anything.”
“I trust my staff.”
“Then your staff is lying to you.”
Preston’s face hardened.
“Ma’am, be very careful.”
“With what?”
“Accusing bank employees of misconduct.”
Monica pushed herself upright using the counter.
Pain shook through her arms.
“I’ve been standing here almost forty minutes while she serves everyone else. She called me a criminal. She tore my check.”
Preston glanced at the torn paper on the floor.
“She would not destroy a legitimate financial instrument without cause.”
Karen said nothing.
That sentence protected her before Preston even knew the facts.
Monica looked at him.
“You don’t even know what happened.”
“I know enough.”
“No, sir.”
Her voice broke.
“You decided enough.”
Preston’s expression changed.
The phrase struck closer than he liked.
“Ray.”
The guard approached.
“Remove her.”
Devon stood.
“Mr. Holloway.”
Preston looked over.
“Sit down.”
“I think we should verify the issuer first.”
“We have a situation under control.”
“The check says Jaylen Taylor.”
“So?”
Devon pointed toward the campaign poster.
Everyone followed his hand.
Jaylen Taylor smiled down from the wall.
The same surname.
The same eyes.
The same cheekbones.
Karen looked at it.
For the first time, uncertainty crossed her face.
Preston glanced between the poster and Monica.
Then he dismissed it.
“Taylor is a common name.”
Devon swallowed.
“Yes, sir.”
“Back to work.”
Devon sat.
That became his second regret of the day.
Ray reached for Monica’s arm.
She pulled away.
“Please don’t.”
“I need you to come with me.”
“I need my groceries.”
“We’ll get them later.”
“My shoe—”
“Ma’am.”
Ray took hold of her upper arm.
He did not intend to injure her.
But intent did not change her spine.
When he pulled, pain exploded through her back.
She gasped.
Her foot twisted.