Page 32 of The Hitchhikers
“Just in case you do, Jenny has the knife.”
Alice glanced at Jenny, who was standing at the door, with her crocheted purse over her shoulder. Alice wondered if the knife was under her shirt or in the purse. Would she really stab Alice? She couldn’t read her face. The girl didn’t even meet Alice’s eyes.
Jenny and Alice were silent as they left the RV and walked down the street side by side until they reached the bank entrance, a grand wooden door flanked by pillars. Alice took a deep breath and pushed it open. The bank was cool inside, an air conditioner blasting from overhead. Alice’s arms broke into goose bumps at the sudden chill. The security guard met her gaze with a friendly smile. She tried not to stare at the gun in his holster. There were no other customers.
They walked to one of the tellers—the only one available at that moment. Jenny stayed close to Alice, her sandals slapping the marble floor, and the ends of her hair swinging with each step.
A dark-haired, middle-aged woman in a lilac blouse with a bow-tie neck greeted them. Alice explained that she wanted to cash her traveler’s checks and slid them across the counter. As the woman inspected them, her lips tightened. She looked at Alice over the rim of her glasses.
“Thomas Bell?”
“Yes, my husband. He has a terrible flu—my goodness, his fever in this heat? The poor man can’t get out of bed. We thought it would be okay if he had already signed them because you can check my ID.” She smiled as she handed the woman her license. “We’re visiting from Seattle. We’ve been enjoying your beautiful country. Until my husband got sick, that is.”
Jenny’s elbow brushed against Alice’s side, and she stopped talking. The bank teller was staring at her. Could she tell something was wrong?
“Excuse me for a moment. I need to talk to the manager.”
“Oh, okay. That’s fine.”
Jenny turned to Alice the moment the teller left. “Do you think they’ll do it?”
“I don’t know, but she didn’t look happy.” Alice gnawed on the corner of her thumb.
The teller came back with an older balding man in a pale blue suit and a wide tie. He gave Alice a smile that she could only describe as sympathetic. She stiffened her spine.
“Mrs. Bell,” he said. “Thank you so much for visiting our bank today. I hear you’ve traveled all the way up from Seattle.”
She nodded, waiting for him to get to the point.
“Unfortunately, we can’t cash these checks for you. With the Olympics and tourist season, there’s an increase in fraud. We’re under strict guidelines. No exceptions.”
“But you can see by my ID that we have the same last name.” She tapped her driver’s license, which sat on the counter between them. He glanced down, then back at her.
“With all due respect, ma’am, we have no way of verifying that you’re married. We still need to witness the signature for ourselves.”
“I’ve explained to your teller that my husband is sick.”
“Hopefully he’ll make a quick recovery.” His expression wasnow turning dismissive. Alice wanted to reach across the counter and choke the man with his tie. What was she going to do now? More importantly—what wasSimongoing to do if she couldn’t get money?
Alice fumbled through the items in her purse and pulled out her checkbook. “What about a personal check? Surely you can cash one of those.” She lifted the pen from its holder at the side of the counter, the long silver chain twisting around her hand, and looked up at him.
“We have a fifteen-day hold on any checks from a foreign bank, and you must be an account holder at our bank. Would you like to open an account today?”
“No.” She dropped the pen into the holder, the chain slithering free of her hand.
The manager dipped his head. “If we can be of any further service…”
“Thank you. Have a good day.” She grabbed her driver’s license off the counter, and spun around, refusing to look at Jenny beside her. She walked briskly to the door.
Outside the bank, Alice took a moment to compose herself, smoothing her hair off her forehead, and wiping her clammy hands on her shorts.
“Are you okay?” Jenny asked, and Alice spun around to glare at her.
“You and your boyfriend are robbing us,” she hissed. “What do you think?”
Jenny gaped at her, then jerked her head to look over her shoulder at the bank entrance, probably worried that the officer would hear them. She turned back. “We have to go.”
“Of course. I don’t want my husband to die.”
