The teller, whose name tag read kylah, nodded and looked at us a bit warily. “She does. Is there a problem? Do you want to talk to the manager?”

Interesting that the default reaction to an inquiry about Ariella was to assume trouble.

“No problem,” Tabitha said. “Quite the opposite, in fact. I would like to talk to her if she’s available.”

The unspoken subtext of “I want to talk to her even if she’s not available” was quite clear to Kylah. She glanced around. “Um, she’s on lunch, actually. Mara?” she called to the teller working the drive-through window. “Did Ariella go out to lunch?”

Over her shoulder, Mara said, “She’s out back. You know.”

I slid over to stand behind Tabitha. Mara had been on the bookmobile. At the time she’d worked at a different bank, but there was probably a fair amount of turnover in teller jobs, just like most places. And it wasn’t that I was trying to hide; it was more that it would be better if I wasn’t recognized.

Kylah turned back. From behind, I couldn’t see Tabitha’s face, but I assumed she was looking at Kylah beseechingly, with hope and expectation. In other words, Tabitha was using that kindly expression that contained a foundation of steely resolve.

“Okay,” Kylah said, capitulating under the Grandmother Gaze. “Like I said, Ariella’s on lunch, but since it’s nice, I’m sure she’s out back at the picnic table.”

“Thank you, my dear,” Tabitha said.

Kylah smiled, blushing a little. “Happy to help.”

Back outside, Tabitha and I walked around the building and saw a twenty-something woman with long and straight dark hair sitting at a picnic table, cell phone in one hand, and an empty Fat Boys pizza box in front of her.

“Ariella Tice?” I asked, shifting straight into the script.

“I’m on lunch.” She didn’t look up from her phone. “If you need something, you’ll have to go into the bank.”

Tabitha and I exchanged a quick glance. Our script was suddenly far less believable, but I plunged ahead. “You used to work for the city, didn’t you? Doing utility billing? My aunt here”—I patted the arm of my newly honorary aunt—“wants to thank you for what you did for her last winter.”

“That’s right,” Tabitha said, using a slightly shaky voice. “I was in Florida for a couple of months. When I was gone, one of the toilets started running on something fierce, using oh, just so much water!” Her eyes went wide. “So expensive! But you called me and told me all about the high use and I was able to call my niece here”—she patted my hand—“and she went over to the house and figured out what was going on.”

Ariella looked, as might be expected, very confused. “Uh, sorry, but I don’t remember.”