The bank was fully staffed, and everyone ignored him when he stepped inside. None of the grim-looking employees bothered to glance up, and when he approached the person at the closest desk, he recognized one of his former clients, a man who’d been convicted of aggravated assault against his neighbor and sentenced to three years. Looking around the room, he saw several faces he recognized. All of them had been involved as defendants in criminal cases. Was the bank hiring convicted felons to staff this branch? It seemed that way. And while giving people a second chance was laudable, maybe having them work around large sums of money on a daily basis wasn’t the smartest idea.

The place was silent, and as yet no one had even glanced in his direction. He looked up at the ceiling. Were all of the lights on? The room seemed darker and gloomier than it should have been. In fact, the overall atmosphere of the bank felt unpleasant and vaguely threatening.

Derrick bypassed the desk of his old client, searching for someone in charge, a manager or supervisor, an administrator. He was still looking when a tap on the shoulder made him jump and swivel around.

Standing before him was a squat, powerfully built man who looked like a wrestler crammed into a suit that was almost comically too small for him. The man scowled at him. “What do you want?”

Thrown off by the harsh bluntness of the demand, Derrick said, “I was looking for the manager.”

“You don’t have an account here,” the man said belligerently.

“No,” Derrick conceded, “but—”

“Then get the hell out.”

Offended, he drew himself up to his full height. “Excuse me, but do you know who I am?”

“I don’t give a shit. Get out.” The squat man’s hands were balled into fists.

Derrick scanned the room to see if anyone else was paying attention, hoping someone in charge might inform this thug about the proper way to treat customers. Everyone was watching, but no one made any attempt to correct the man’s behavior. Indeed, their faces wore the anticipatory expressions of people waiting on a fight.

Turning silently and walking away before things escalated, Derrick vowed to use whatever power he had as mayor to shut this place down. No matter how the building had been manifested, its construction had never been approved and it was in violation of multiple rules and regulations. He moved his car in front of his own office, unlocked his doors and spent the rest of the morning poring over state and local statutes.

****