He locked the front door, walked to his truck, and drove the forty minutes into town. Hargrove Savings Bank sat on the corner of Millfield and Court Street, a broad stone building with glass doors that slid open automatically and a row of small square hedges out front that looked like they’d been trimmed with a ruler.
Elias had driven past it hundreds of times but had rarely been inside. Margaret had handled the in-person visits too. He sat in his truck for a few minutes after parking, watching people move in and out through the glass doors.