Starting the Game

"Excuse me, ma'am. Is there a bank near here?"

"Right across the street," she said without thinking. "Might be closed by now, though."

"Thanks. I didn't even notice it when I came in." The woman entered yet another room, and Faust continued down the hallway.

The fresh aroma of a clean motel room filled his nostrils as Doug pushed the door open. It banged loudly against the rubber doorstop. He tossed his bag on the queen-sized bed, then turned and stepped back into the hallway. Glancing down at his watch, he jogged toward the elevator. There might still be time to catch someone at the bank.

Doug laid the check on the counter and slid it under the glass partition, into the waiting hand of a young female teller. She glanced from him to her coworkers, who gathered their things and prepared to close up for the night. The customer service smile was obviously second nature to her, however, and was still in place as she began tapping the computer keys.

"Sorry," he told her, "just wanted to get over here before you closed on me."

"If you had waited another two seconds…" She left the statement to hang in the stagnant air.

"I know."

"Do you have any identification, sir?"

Doug plucked his Georgia driver's license from his wallet and handed it through the small opening. "Need anything else?"

"Oh." Her brow furrowed in mild concern. "Out of state. This is a good sized check."