“What is happening?” I demanded. “What is this?”
Mrs. Patel came around the counter. “Please come with me.”
“No. Not until you tell me something.”
She glanced toward the glass doors, as if expecting someone to appear there.
Then she lowered her voice.
“Your grandmother made arrangements with this bank years ago. Very specific arrangements. If that passbook was ever presented by anyone claiming to be Elise Hale, we were required to verify your identity, contact law enforcement, and secure the building.”
My fingers went cold.
“Why?”
“Because three people tried to access this account before you.”
“Who?”
Mrs. Patel hesitated.
