Chapter 4
Bonnie sat in the bank parking lot for a few minutes, taking steady, deep breaths. Sure, the day wasn’t going the way she’d anticipated when she woke up, but so far, she hadn’t run into anything she couldn’t handle. She was nervous about going into the bank and asking the teller for the amount of money written on the back of Joseph Crowder’s business card, but deep down, she knew that was silly.
Technically, this was her money now. Peter had made her the sole beneficiary of his businesses, with the assets divided between James and Jackie in the event of her death. She knew that much because she’d had to sign paperwork roughly once a year confirming it. As strange as it felt to take ownership of the accounts, she knew she was entitled to do so. The hesitation in her chest came from the newness of it all. Part of her still couldn’t believe Peter was really gone. A silly, irrational part of her couldn’t help pointing out that Peter might be annoyed if she messed up their finances while he was away.
But Peter wasn’t away .
He was dead.
Bonnie knew she needed to act her age and handle the banking like a responsible adult. She’d lost count of how many times in her life she had gone into this very branch and completed much more complicated transactions. It was silly to be anxious about this simply because the dollar amount was so high.
She pulled the rearview mirror down so she could look herself in the eye.
“You can do this, Bonnie Wilkins. Get the money, pay the landlord, and get your answers. You’re on your own now, and it’s hard, but you can do this.”
The worry in her eyes was too obvious to completely believe her own pep talk, but it had to be enough. Her choices were either to cower in her car all day, or walk confidently into the bank and handle her business. She knew which one she’d rather do.
With only slightly less confidence than she’d walked into Peter’s office building with, she strode into the bank and up to the receptionist’s desk. This didn’t seem like a task for an ordinary teller but rather one of the higher-ranked bankers. Peter sometimes met with them when he was conducting business.
“Hello. My name is Bonnie Wilkins, and I’m here to make a sizable withdrawal.” She approached the teller window with a gracious smile. “My husband passed recently, and I need to put some of his affairs in order. I was hoping I could sit with someone to discuss my particular situation.”
The receptionist nodded brusquely. “Certainly, Mrs. Wilkins. I’m sorry for your loss. Wait here a moment, and I’ll see who’s available to work with you.”
Bonnie was buoyed by the interaction. So far, so good. It was enough to prove that her earlier exchange with Joseph Crowder wasn’t an indication of how the rest of the day would go. She could turn things around.
A few minutes later, the receptionist came back and led her to a small office off the main lobby. Bonnie thanked her and sat at the desk across from a well-dressed woman who appeared to be around her age. The smile on her ruby-red, plump lips reached her emerald eyes, causing her nose to scrunch beneath a pair of silver-rimmed glasses. Already, Bonnie felt better. No one was looking at her suspiciously, or avoiding eye contact.
Still, it was slightly uneasy to ask for a large sum of money from an account that wasn’t in her name. She knew she didn’t personally have enough funds to cover the rent Peter owed—and she knew very little about the business accounts, where the bulk of the financial assets were. She’d never needed to understand them. It seemed foolish now, to have been so reliant on Peter for things as basic as usernames and passwords, but this wasn’t a position she ever expected to be in.
“What can I do for you today, Mrs. Wilkins?” The woman sat up straight, her hands clasped together on the desk between them. “I understand it’s related to a large withdrawal.”
“Yes, Donna, it is,” Bonnie answered after reading the woman’s name off the gold pin on the front of her blouse. “I’m afraid I haven’t got much information, so this may be tricky. You see, my husband passed away last week, and I’m trying to settle some business expenses he hadn’t paid at the time of his death. I need to make a withdrawal from his business accounts.”
Donna’s gaze fell sympathetically before meeting Bonnie’s eyes. “I’m sorry to hear that. I can definitely help you, though. Do you have a death certificate for your husband? I will need that before I can do anything.”
Bonnie opened her purse and pulled out the folder of documents she’d been carrying around all week. “I have the interim death certificate, as I haven’t received the official one yet. It’s only been a week.”
“That’s totally fine. I know this time must be hard for you, so I’ll try to make this as quick and painless as possible.” She took the small stack of documents from Bonnie and opened the folder in front of her. “Do you happen to have the account number?”
“That’s the tricky part. I don’t know it, or even how many he had. I know there was more than one, and he kept them all here. He liked to use the same bank for his business and personal finances. I’ve got information on that, and what I think is one of his debit cards.”
Bonnie fought to control her embarrassment. This shouldn’t be too difficult; Peter was a large client at this bank. With the death certificate, they ought to have enough information to pull up all of his information and get things straightened out right away.
“It’s okay, I can pull it up in the system,” Donna said before turning her attention to the computer monitor in front of her. As she typed on the keyboard and clicked the mouse, her gentle expression hardened. Her frown grew deeper as long, silent minutes stretched out between them.
Bonnie’s stomach twisted in knots, worry wrapping around her chest like a boa constrictor. She couldn’t see the screen, but Donna’s silence—and furrowed brow—left her concerned about more bad news.
“Pardon me a moment, Mrs. Wilkins. I need to check something with my supervisor.” Donna didn’t wait for a response before getting up and quickly marching out of the office.
Bonnie didn’t care much for that attitude. Whatever was in their system should’ve been shared with her—good or bad. The paperwork she’d offered clearly showed Bonnie as the beneficiary. The bank should be treating her with all the deference and respect they would have shown her husband.
The sense of indignation only grew as time ticked by. All the goodwill she felt when she’d first arrived evaporated by the second. This whole errand shouldn’t have taken more than fifteen minutes from beginning to end, yet she’d been sitting in this office for the better part of half an hour, and they hadn’t even begun the transaction process.
Bonnie wondered if the bank could’ve been the source of Peter’s difficulties with the office building. If they were this slow all the time, it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that some sort of clerical error had held up the rent payments.
The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. Peter was good with money. She and the children had never wanted for anything. Peter seldom said no to large purchases, and they’d always lived very comfortably. Not paying rent on his office space was wildly out of character for him. It must have been the bank’s fault everything was in such chaos.
Bonnie decided that, as soon as Donna returned, she’d give her a piece of her mind.
Treating loyal customers this way was unacceptable.
The hands on the clock ticked closer and closer to noon. She couldn’t believe her whole day had been eaten up with this adventure, and she still had nothing to show for it. It was remarkable Peter hadn’t shown more stress in the last weeks of his life if this was the kind of thing he dealt with regularly.
Finally, Donna returned and resumed her seat behind her desk. The smile from earlier was gone--no longer did her nose crinkle or dark green eyes glimmer. Instead, her painted red lips were pressed in a thin line, her brow taut. To Bonnie, it was far too similar to the expression Mr. Crowder had in the storage room a few hours earlier.
Bonnie sat up straighter, bracing herself for another wave of bad news. She wondered what piece of paperwork they would demand. Peter had kept files in the den at home, so if necessary, she knew she could go to the house and look through them. Regardless, she refused to allow the bank to turn her away.
She was an important client here now, taking over for Peter.
“Mrs. Wilkins, I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting.” Donna leaned forward and swallowed harshly. “Your husband did have business accounts here at one time. However, none of them remain open. Over the past year, he’s emptied and closed them all out. As of now, there’s only one left, and it’s a personal checking account, listing you as a joint owner.”
Bonnie’s chest grew tight as though her ribs were being crushed by an invisible weight, threatening to squeeze the life out of her.
“I’m sorry, just the personal account?” She shook her head, hoping to clear her mind. She had to have heard her wrong. “But there should be a business checking as well. Peter didn’t do his company’s finances through our personal account. It would be a tax nightmare. At least, that’s what he always said. Maybe you misunderstood me…”
“I understood you perfectly, Mrs. Wilkins. There were business accounts, but they no longer exist. On top of that, your husband accrued a substantial amount of debt. Four of his companies used our bank to handle their financial needs, and each of them has a rather high credit balance at this time.”
“How high?” Bonnie asked, dreading the answer more than anything.
Joseph Crowder’s business card with the past-due rent was still in her hand. The eye-watering sum was fifty times more than what she could write a check for. Adding debts on top of that made a cold sweat trickle down the back of her neck.
“Nearly a million dollars.” Donna paused and held her stare. “Per account.”
Bonnie’s vision clouded, and her head went fuzzy. Sound roared past her ears, and her lungs couldn’t expand all the way. Her limbs were too hot and too cold all at once. She gripped the edge of the chair she was perched on to keep from toppling out and fainting.
The debt was so much worse than she’d anticipated.
No amount of deep breathing and pep talks could help her now. For the first time in her life, Bonnie didn’t know what she would do next—and she was terrified of the consequences.