"Sir," she said, using the word the way people do when they don't mean it, "is this some kind of joke?"
"No," Walter said.
"You want to withdraw $150,000 in cash?"
"That's correct."
She leaned forward slightly. "And you have an account here?"
"I do."
She tilted her head in a slow, mocking look. "Sir, with all due respect, I've worked here for three years. I know what kind of clients we serve. Our minimum opening balance for a personal account is $25,000."
She paused and let her eyes sweep him again. "The clients who keep that kind of money in this branch don't usually come in wearing a sweatshirt."
Walter said nothing.
Kayla sat back. "I'm going to need you to not waste my time. If you have a legitimate account, go to a teller window, present your ID, and they'll tell you what your actual balance is. If not, I'm going to need you to leave the premises."
"I have a check," Walter said.
He reached into his pocket and set it on the desk, flat, folded once. Kayla didn't pick it up. She looked at it like it might be contagious.
"Take your check to the teller."
"I'd like you to look at it first."
She pushed it back across the desk with two fingers. "I don't process checks. That's not my job."
"Then what is your job?"
Something flickered in her eyes. Not guilt, irritation. She stood up from her chair.
"Let me get the branch manager."
His name was Derek Sims. He came out of the back office with the energy of a man who had already decided how this conversation was going to go before he heard a single word of it. He was in his mid-40s, with slicked-back hair and a tie that was probably expensive but looked too tight. He walked with his shoulders back and his chin up, the posture of a man who confused authority with arrogance.
He stopped in front of Walter and looked him over once. "I heard there's a problem," Derek said.
"No problem," Walter said. "I'd like to make a withdrawal."
"Kayla said you claimed to have an account here."
Claimed. Walter caught the word but didn't react. "I do have an account here," he said.
Derek crossed his arms. "Sir, I'm going to be straight with you. We get walk-ins from time to time who come in with stories, checks that don't clear, account numbers that don't exist. I've seen it all."
He continued, "Now, I'm not accusing you of anything, but I'm also not going to let my staff process a $150,000 transaction without verification and looking at..."
He stopped, seeming to realize he was about to say something out loud that should have stayed a thought.
Walter finished it for him. "Looking at me."
Derek's jaw tightened. "I was going to say, looking at the situation."
"You were going to say looking at me," Walter said, calm and certain, like a man who has watched the scene before and knows exactly where it ends.
Derek's patience broke. "You know what? I don't need this today."