Despite Chet’s uneasiness, he did so, and was ushered past a row of tellers’ windows to an office. The office was larger than seemed possible for its location and filled with heavy wooden furniture that made him think of the bank in Mary Poppins. The employee who’d led him here was suddenly nowhere to be found, and a distinguished-looking older gentleman stood up from behind a massive desk and beckoned him in. The man was dressed in an expensive three-piece suit, and Chet removed his hat as he stepped forward, suddenly self-conscious about his appearance. He should have dressed better, he thought, more appropriately for the circumstances. It was probably a strike against him already.

“Mr. Yates,” the banker said. “Have a seat.” He gestured toward a high-backed leather-upholstered chair directly opposite his own.

Chet sat down.

The man smiled. All of his teeth were white and perfectly even. “To what do we owe the pleasure? I understand that you’re looking to secure a loan?”

Chet nodded.

“Would this be business? Personal?”

“Both, I guess.” Chet shifted uncomfortably in his seat, the leather squeaking as he did so. “I need a loan because…well, I’m a radio broadcaster—”

“We know who you are, Mr. Yates.”

“—and I currently don’t have any advertisers. Without advertisers, the station will not be able to support my show.”

“I thought Big O Tires and Discount Furniture bought time on your program.”

“They pulled out…recently.” He was starting to sweat. The banker was getting close to asking him why both Big O and Discount Furniture had quit the show, and Chet did not want to go into that. He had come up with a convincing lie as to why he had been dropped by his sponsors but, now that he was here, in the belly of the beast, he was not sure he’d be able to sell it. Besides, if the bank performed any kind of due diligence, they’d quickly find out the truth.

“Is this because you suggested that Sheriff Brad Neth should be shot?”

Obviously they’d already done their research.

But how was that possible? Had they anticipated that he would come in here to ask for a loan? As farfetched as that might seem, he could think of no other explanation, and, realizing that it would do him no good to lie, he nodded dejectedly. “Yeah. That’s why.”