“Yes,” Pickering countered. “In fact, I believe you lost nearly eighteen thousand dollars to a wagering website on a series of, may I say, very foolish bets. The site is owned by our bank,” he clarified.

Walter was stunned. “That can’t be legal.”

“Well, it wasn’t,” Pickering admitted. “For a brief period of time. But most of those overly stringent rules enacted after the recession have been…” He waved a fluttering hand in the air. “…relaxed. Congress came to realize, after some well-timed donations from the lobbying arm of our industry, that, in today’s complicated and interconnected world, financial institutions require diverse investment streams. And thus…” He gestured toward the computer.

Walter was confused. “Have you come to…collect?”

Pickering laughed. “Is that what you’re worried about? No. I haven’t come to collect. In fact, I’ve come to propose a deal. We both know that you don’t have the money to cover your losses. Not without ‘borrowing’ from the church coffers. Am I right? Of course I am,” he answered himself without pause. “And what I’m here to offer you is…a way out. Our bank is invested in this community, and we want the community to invest with us.” He chuckled. “Financial humor. Anyway, we don’t want one of Montgomery’s most respected and influential citizens to slink away under the cover of night. No. Mistakes might have been made, but nothing that can’t be ameliorated, and as the owners of FreshBets, we are in a unique position to provide you with a solution to your dilemma. Simply stated, we will issue you a loan and use that loan to settle your obligation.

“You will still need to pay back the debt, of course, but a fair payment schedule can be arranged, and in lieu of interest, the bank will merely ask you to perform a few favors on its behalf. If this arrangement sounds satisfactory to you, merely nod your head, and we will consider that an agreement of stated terms.”

The cleancut man in the dark blue suit stared at him, an unnervingly unwavering smile on his face. The silence extended to a length that became uncomfortable, and under the man’s unblinking gaze, Walter found himself nodding acquiescence.

“Thank you,” Pickering said.

The lights flickered again.

And the man was gone.

Walter blinked, facing the empty doorway. Had the banker been here at all, he wondered, or had he, in his despair, imagined a savior come to solve his problems?

No. The man had been here. The details of the encounter were too specific, the offer the man had made unambiguous. So did that mean…?

Walter sat down again and refreshed the screen on his computer.

His debt had been erased; his FreshBets balance was at zero.

Favors, he thought. What exactly did that mean?

He wasn’t sure, but he had no doubt that he would soon find out.

****

Sunday morning.