Moses Hawke dragged his fingers through his shoulder length hair. He resisted the urge to hurl his cellphone. This was not the news he wanted to hear from his accountant. “Explain to me how someone walks into the bank and leaves with ten grand. Of my money?” “Well, I’m working on it.” “I don’t want you working on it. I want it handled. There’s paperwork involved when you take out or deposit that amount of cash. I want to know who took my money. Those funds were earmarked for Saturday’s Back to the Bricks’ Slamfest. I want it back.” “All right, Moses. I’ll wake the bank manager if I have to.” “You’ll wake the bank president, Julius. I do a lot of business with that bank and they manage a great deal of my funds. If they can’t find who did this then tell them there are other financial institutions just begging for my business. Got that?” Heavy breathing and faint scratching sounded through the line.
