Kevin Myers's Arc

Chapter 1 of 1

Kevin Myers had spent eleven years catching liars across the counter of the Gear-Lit Traveler's Bank, and this morning the liar was a name he'd known since high school. The account read Aj Blackbird. But Aj never spent like this. Three charges since Tuesday. A furrier. A jeweler. A private car service. Kevin knew Aj's whole life fit in a black dress and a cheap flat. She would never touch this credit. Which meant someone else was. He pulled the file. A new line of credit, opened last month in Aj's name, backed by legal documents and an inheritance card. Every signature matched Aj's on record. But Kevin had watched Aj sign her lease once, slow and childish, tongue between her teeth. These signatures were fast and sure. Old-woman sure. He knew the hand before he saw the proof. Barbara Tart. Aj's mother. The woman who gave money only to hold it like a leash. Kevin had watched her do it for years, snowman-round and smiling with dead eyes. He wanted to freeze the account. His finger hovered over the button. But the rules were plain. No freeze without a valid reason on file. A daughter's own signatures were not fraud. Not on paper. He needed Aj to say the word. Kevin called Aj first, then dialed the number he'd sworn he'd never use again. The reserved bank telephone with his name on the plate. He asked Barbara to come in and verify the account holder in person. Both women arrived within the hour. Aj hung near the door in her long black dress, hazel eyes wide and lost. Barbara rolled in ahead of her, gloved hands folded, chin up. "I am the mother," Barbara said. "The mother knows best. The mother always knows best." Kevin set the charges on the counter. "These aren't yours to spend, Barbara. This credit is in Aj's name." "Aj agreed. Aj always agrees. Aj signed." Her voice repeated flat, a record stuck in a groove. Kevin looked past her to Aj. "Did you open this? Did you sign for a fur coat?" Aj's mouth trembled. She shook her head. "No. I never saw those." That was it. The account holder denied the charges to his face. Kevin turned to his screen and typed the reason he'd needed all morning. Fraud reported by account holder. He hit freeze. The line locked with a soft click. Barbara's smile did not move, but her gloved hands curled. "You cannot. The mother decides. The mother always decides." "Not here," Kevin said. "Here I decide." Barbara turned and left without another word. Kevin watched the door swing shut. He had stopped the bleeding. But the credit was frozen, not erased. The debt still stood in Aj's name. And Barbara still held the inheritance card that made it all possible. She would not fight him at a counter again. She would go somewhere he couldn't reach.