it to me.”
“All right. I’ll get it. I just need to make a few calls. I have to transfer the funds.”
Dan’s face was mottled red with anger. “Do it now.”
“I would, if I could, I swear to you. But it takes a day to wire the funds. There’s no way to get it today, by law.”
Dan turned away from her, his fists clenched, and for a moment Jen thought he was going to hit the parking meter. Instead he seized her upper arm and dragged her to the passenger door. “Get in.”
Jen did, barely managing to get her legs in before he slammed her door. By the time he came around and got in the driver’s side, he was breathing hard. He sat rigidly for a moment and then slammed the steering wheel with his hand. The car shook from the impact.
“God damn it. The price just went up. Double. I want a hundred fifty.”
“I’m not sure if I can—”
“Call them. Now.” He had the gun in his hand; he must have gotten it out of his jacket when he got in the car.
Jen didn’t believe he would shoot her in the car, in the middle of the day, right here in depressing downtown Hastings, but she wasn’t about to test him. When he handed her his phone she was shaking so badly she nearly dropped it. It was warm from his pocket, the screen blurred with a greasy smudge.
She found the phone number on the internet and dialed, staring at the console between them, not wanting to see the gun he was holding in his lap.
An assistant answered. That was a stroke of luck; Jen wasn’t sure she could have pulled off the transaction if her broker had answered, with his friendly inquiries about Ted and the kids, questions that Jen doubted she could have managed in her current state.
But the young woman who took the call sounded bored as she went through the authentication and the details of the transaction. Jen could hear her fingers on the keyboard as she keyed in the amounts.
“The funds will wire by eleven o’clock tomorrow morning. Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“No, thank you.”
“Thank you for your business today, Mrs. Glass, and I hope I have provided you with excellent service. Have a great day.” She hung up before Jen could respond.
“So?” Dan asked impatiently.
Jen stared at the phone, the number disappearing from the caller ID. “It’s taken care of. They’re wiring it in the morning. We can pick it up tomorrow afternoon.”
Dan nodded curtly and started the car, saying nothing. He let it idle for a moment before backing out of the parking space. He made the turn at the next stoplight, but instead of going around the block and heading back the way they’d come, he drove straight through the heart of town.
They passed vacant department stores and shuttered shop windows. At a green light, they had to wait while a group of young men in enormous puffy coats and sneakers took their time ambling across the street. A plastic bag rode a wind current and rested for a moment against the windshield before drifting away.
Jen wondered if Dan was lost, if she should tell him he was going the wrong way. If he was her father’s crony, if he lived up in Murdoch, he wouldn’t know his way around. He might have memorized the route to the bank, but not the reverse directions.
She was about to say something when it suddenly occurred to her where Dan was going. Surely not...there wasn’t any way he could know. Was there? She waited, holding her breath, thinking that at any moment he’d take another turn and start heading back west.
But no. They passed the Kmart, the outer limit of Jen’s childhood, the farthest she was allowed to ride her bike alone. Down Lowry Street, past the narrow wedge of a public park, where even in the middle of the day, in the biting cold, she could see a few homeless men sleeping on the benches. Past the turnoff to the elementary school, where her mother—in a brief happy phase when she’d had the occasional weekday off—had once been a playground monitor.
“This isn’t
“All right. I’ll get it. I just need to make a few calls. I have to transfer the funds.”
Dan’s face was mottled red with anger. “Do it now.”
“I would, if I could, I swear to you. But it takes a day to wire the funds. There’s no way to get it today, by law.”
Dan turned away from her, his fists clenched, and for a moment Jen thought he was going to hit the parking meter. Instead he seized her upper arm and dragged her to the passenger door. “Get in.”
Jen did, barely managing to get her legs in before he slammed her door. By the time he came around and got in the driver’s side, he was breathing hard. He sat rigidly for a moment and then slammed the steering wheel with his hand. The car shook from the impact.
“God damn it. The price just went up. Double. I want a hundred fifty.”
“I’m not sure if I can—”
“Call them. Now.” He had the gun in his hand; he must have gotten it out of his jacket when he got in the car.
Jen didn’t believe he would shoot her in the car, in the middle of the day, right here in depressing downtown Hastings, but she wasn’t about to test him. When he handed her his phone she was shaking so badly she nearly dropped it. It was warm from his pocket, the screen blurred with a greasy smudge.
She found the phone number on the internet and dialed, staring at the console between them, not wanting to see the gun he was holding in his lap.
An assistant answered. That was a stroke of luck; Jen wasn’t sure she could have pulled off the transaction if her broker had answered, with his friendly inquiries about Ted and the kids, questions that Jen doubted she could have managed in her current state.
But the young woman who took the call sounded bored as she went through the authentication and the details of the transaction. Jen could hear her fingers on the keyboard as she keyed in the amounts.
“The funds will wire by eleven o’clock tomorrow morning. Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“No, thank you.”
“Thank you for your business today, Mrs. Glass, and I hope I have provided you with excellent service. Have a great day.” She hung up before Jen could respond.
“So?” Dan asked impatiently.
Jen stared at the phone, the number disappearing from the caller ID. “It’s taken care of. They’re wiring it in the morning. We can pick it up tomorrow afternoon.”
Dan nodded curtly and started the car, saying nothing. He let it idle for a moment before backing out of the parking space. He made the turn at the next stoplight, but instead of going around the block and heading back the way they’d come, he drove straight through the heart of town.
They passed vacant department stores and shuttered shop windows. At a green light, they had to wait while a group of young men in enormous puffy coats and sneakers took their time ambling across the street. A plastic bag rode a wind current and rested for a moment against the windshield before drifting away.
Jen wondered if Dan was lost, if she should tell him he was going the wrong way. If he was her father’s crony, if he lived up in Murdoch, he wouldn’t know his way around. He might have memorized the route to the bank, but not the reverse directions.
She was about to say something when it suddenly occurred to her where Dan was going. Surely not...there wasn’t any way he could know. Was there? She waited, holding her breath, thinking that at any moment he’d take another turn and start heading back west.
But no. They passed the Kmart, the outer limit of Jen’s childhood, the farthest she was allowed to ride her bike alone. Down Lowry Street, past the narrow wedge of a public park, where even in the middle of the day, in the biting cold, she could see a few homeless men sleeping on the benches. Past the turnoff to the elementary school, where her mother—in a brief happy phase when she’d had the occasional weekday off—had once been a playground monitor.
“This isn’t
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