- I stared at him.
- “Thirty-one percent?”
- “From the stock he bought in ‘86,” Tom said. “He never sold a share. He’s never taken a dividend. Not once. In thirty-eight years. He reinvests every penny.”
- He looked at Grandpa.
- “He’s the largest shareholder of Prairie State Bank,” Tom said. “He’s on the board of directors. He’s been on the board since 1986. He’s never missed a meeting.”
- “He’s never missed a meeting,” I said slowly.
- “First Tuesday of every month,” Tom said. “Seven p.m. In this office. In overalls.”
- I turned to Grandpa.
- “Grandpa,” I said. “Is that true? You go to board meetings? You own a third of the bank?”
- He shrugged.
- “Somebody had to keep an eye on it,” he said.
- “And this building,” Tom said. “This one. The new one. The glass doors and the gray carpet and the coffee machine.”
- He looked at Ashlyn.
- “When we decided to remodel two years ago,” he said, “we needed a loan. A big one. Four hundred thousand dollars.”
- He shook his head.
- “No bank in Des Moines would give it to us,” he said. “We’re too small. Too rural. Too much farm exposure.”
- He looked at Grandpa.
- “Earl guaranteed it,” he said. “Personally. Against his farm. Again.”
- “That’s why his name is on the deed,” Tom said.
- He looked at Ashlyn.
- “Ashlyn,” he said quietly. “The man you called security on. The man whose license you held up to the light. The man you told to stick to the ATM.”
- Ashlyn was crying now. Silently. Mascara running.
- “He paid for the carpet,” Tom said, “that he tracked mud on.”
- Nobody said anything for a long time.
- Then Ashlyn spoke.
- “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Mr. Doyle. I’m so sorry.”
- Grandpa looked at her.
- For the first time since we came into the office.
- He looked at her for a long time.
- “Miss,” he said. “Can I ask you something?”
- She nodded.
- “When you looked me up,” he said. “On your computer. What did you see?”
- Ashlyn swallowed.
- “Your account,” she said. “Your balance.”
- “And?”
- She looked at Tom.
- Tom nodded.
- “It was—” Ashlyn stopped. “It was a lot, Mr. Doyle. A lot of money.”
- “How much?”
- She hesitated.
- “Two hundred and ninety-one thousand dollars,” she said. “In checking.”
- I stared at my grandfather.
- “And you still asked me for two forms of ID,” Grandpa said.
- “Yes, sir.”
- “And held my license up to the light.”
- “Yes, sir.”
- “And asked me what the money was for.”
- “Yes, sir.”
- “Why?”
- Ashlyn didn’t answer right away.
- She looked at her hands. Her perfect pink nails.
- “Because I thought you were being scammed,” she said.
- Grandpa didn’t move.
- “Last month,” Ashlyn said. “I’d only been here three weeks. An older man came in. Eighty-one. A farmer. From out by Wesley. He wanted to withdraw fifteen thousand dollars in cash.”
- She swallowed.
- “He said it was for his grandson,” she said. “His grandson was in jail in Mexico. He’d gotten a phone call. The grandson needed bail money. Right away. Cash. He had to wire it through a Walmart.”
- Tom closed his eyes.
- “I gave it to him,” Ashlyn said. “I didn’t ask questions. He had the money. It was his account. He had ID. I gave it to him.”
- She was crying hard now.
- “It was a scam,” she said. “His grandson was in Des Moines. In college. Fine. He’d never been to Mexico. The man lost fifteen thousand dollars. His whole savings.”
- “They trained me,” Ashlyn said. “After that. Tom sent me to a training. In Des Moines. On elder financial abuse. They said older people withdrawing large amounts of cash are the number-one sign. They said to ask questions. To slow it down. To get security if they seem confused or agitated.”
- She looked at Grandpa.
- “So when you came in,” she said. “Eighty-four. Asking for two thousand in cash. For a tractor part. Which didn’t make any sense to me. I didn’t know tractor parts could cost that much.”
- She wiped her face.
- “I thought it was happening again,” she said. “I thought somebody was taking advantage of you.”
- The office was quiet.
- “That’s what you were thinking,” Grandpa said. “When you asked me questions.”
- “Yes, sir.”
- “When you held my license up to the light.”
- “Yes, sir.”
- Grandpa nodded slowly.
- Then he said something I didn’t expect.
- “Then why’d you say people in your situation?”
- Ashlyn went very still.
- “You didn’t say people your age,” Grandpa said. “You didn’t say people who might be getting scammed.”
- He held up his cap.
- “You looked at my boots,” he said. “And the mud on your carpet. And my overalls. And you said people in your situation.”
- He put the cap back in his lap.
- “What situation did you mean, miss?”
- Ashlyn didn’t answer.
- She couldn’t.
- “You meant poor,” Grandpa said quietly. “Didn’t you.”
- Ashlyn put her face in her hands.
- “And when the lady behind me laughed,” Grandpa said, “you smiled at her.”
- He looked at her.
- “And when you called Tommy,” he said, “you held the phone up so everybody could hear. And you rolled your eyes.”
