Chapter 2

Vivienne rested her chin in her hand and drummed her fingers on the mahogany desk in her home office, waiting for the Zoom call to connect. The Internet was painfully slow, and she fumed at the inconvenience. Was every loser in Colorado online at the same exact moment? Why the hell was she paying so much for a gigabit fiber connection if she couldn’t even use it? She didn’t know how much she paid exactly – the family office took care of that for her – but she was certain it was a lot. Why didn’t they have an Internet fast lane for VIPs and other important people like herself?

At long last, Zoom connected her to the meeting already in progress. Staring back at her from the large flat panel display on the wall was her executive team. Even though they were rendered in jittery, pixelated video, their tension was readily apparent.

“Good, she’s on,” said her Chief Operating Office, David Wathall. His shirt collar was unbuttoned and his tie was loosened. His thin, graying hair was a mess, like he’d been combing his fingers through it all morning. “Vivienne, we need to talk about the situation on the ground. This thing’s spreading faster than anyone could have predicted. We’ve had reports of incidents near several of our retail locations. Staff are feeling unsafe, and frankly, so am I. Have you seen what’s going on out there? We need to consider temporarily closing some, if not all, of our storefronts to protect our employees and secure our assets.”

Vivienne fluttered her eyelashes. “Close the stores? Are you insane? Do you have any idea what that will do to our revenue? Payday loans aren’t a luxury like that fucking latte sitting on your desk, Dave. Our customers need our services, especially now. If we close our doors, they’ll take their business elsewhere.”

Sarah Millstone, the Chief Financial Officer, cut in. “Vivienne, there’s also the issue of the cash reserves we keep onsite. If any of our locations are looted, it won’t just be bad for business, it could be catastrophic. We’re talking tens of thousands of dollars per location, and our insurance won’t cover all of it. Plus, the logistics of replenishing those funds during a crisis like this would be near impossible.”

Vivienne clenched her jaw as she considered the implications. Losing cash would be a blow, but halting operations felt like conceding defeat. “Then let’s increase security,” she suggested, wondering why she was the one coming up with all the solutions. “Hire some contractors if you have to. Pinkertons or Blackwater or whoever. We’re not going to let a few isolated incidents shut us down.”

“Vivienne, it’s not just about the cash or even the safety of our employees, though that’s certainly my top priority right now,” Mark Baldwin chimed in. He was CrediTrust Financial’s Head of Operations for the Southwest region, who oversaw the day-to-day management of their retail stores. “We’re already seeing a significant drop in foot traffic. People are staying home. They’re scared. And on top of that, a lot of our customers are being laid off or told not to come into work. If they can’t get to us, or if they lose their income, how are they going to pay back their loans?”

A cold knot formed in Vivienne’s stomach. Loan repayments were the lifeblood of the company. Without them, their entire revenue stream would dry up. She leaned forward, her tone icy. “I don’t give a shit about anything else that’s going on out there. You need to make sure they keep paying, Mark. I don’t care if they have to skip some meals or sell a kidney. No one stops repayments. Understood?”

Mark hesitated. “With all due respect, Vivienne, you’re just not getting it. Banks are closing their retail branches too and limiting their operations to just online services. If our customers don’t have access to physical bank branches, they might not be able to deposit cash or make payments.”

That wasn’t a problem she’d fully anticipated. “Then we need a strategy,” she demanded. “Immediately.” She snapped her fingers as she thought. “What about alternative payment methods? Can we push more aggressively for online payments and mobile banking? Or, how about setting up partnerships with convenience stores or gas stations? Anywhere those deadbeats can make a payment.”

Anton Kyrylenko, the company’s Chief Risk Officer, who usually sat in the background on these calls, finally spoke up. “Vivienne, those kinds of partnerships would take time to develop and implement. Months, at least. Time we probably don’t have.”

“Then build a time machine, because we’re not shutting down! Does everyone understand that? Am I making myself crystal clear? We’re not losing our customers. I want solutions, not excuses. You’re all supposed to be the smartest people in the fucking room. That’s what I’m paying you for. Figure it out!”

As she spoke, activity at the front gate drew her attention. She turned slightly to see through the large windows overlooking the property’s main drive. A large, dust-covered pickup truck stopped at the robust steel gate and two men got out to peer through bars. They were armed! Her heart rate quickened.

“Vivienne?” David’s voice brought her back to the call.

She turned back to her laptop’s camera with what she was sure was an ashen face. She fought to keep her voice calm. “I-I-I need to take care of something. I’ll get back to you later. Just ... get it done.”

Without waiting for a response, Vivienne slammed the laptop lid shut and jumped out of her chair to hide herself from view. She saw other men still inside the truck. Movement in the driveway revved her heart rate even higher until she realized it was Daniel. He was loading trash bags into the back of his truck. He’d already seen the men at the gate and they were yelling something to each other, but the double-paned, argon-gas-filled windows wouldn’t allow her to hear what they were saying. Daniel! She rushed from the office and past the living room on her way to the front door. Her daughter was still on the couch, watching the news.

“Stay inside,” she yelled as she flew by.

Cecilia stood with the remote in her hand, noting the fearful expression on her mother’s face. “Mom? What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

“Nothing. Just do what you’re told and stay inside!”

Out the front door and to the end of the driveway, Vivienne ran. “Daniel! Daniel!” He turned and put up his hands to catch her by the shoulders as she came to a screeching halt in front of him. “Who-who are those men? What do they want?”

He studied her face, so filled with terror, then looked at the men standing at the gate and considered them for a long while. “I’m not really sure,” he said. “I think they want me to open the gate.” He lifted his truck’s tailgate and slammed it shut. “But that’s not really my problem anymore, is it?”

“W-wait! What are you saying?”

He turned back to face her. “You didn’t want to pay me, remember? So I quit, and now you’re kicking me out of my house.” He regarded the armed men at the gate. “Call 911 if you need someone’s help. I’m sure the sheriffs will be along in an hour or two to help you out, if they come at all.”

Vivienne’s face fell. “I’ll pay you! Right now! I’ll pay you everything you’re owed.” She held out her hand, bidding him to stay. “J-just don’t leave, okay? Stay right there. Give me two seconds and I’ll go get my checkbook!”

Daniel stopped her before she could go. “Are you fucking nuts? I’m not taking a check from you. And no credit cards either. Cash, Vivienne, or I’m out of here.”

His insolent use of her first name hardly even registered. “F-fine. How much are you owed?”

“$2,966. And sixty-six cents.”

She blinked several times, flabbergasted. “Wait, that’s it? That’s what you were bitching about earlier? Three grand?”

He scoffed and spun on his heel. “You know what? Fuck off, you greedy bitch. Keep your money. Have fun with your new friends.”

“Wait! Please god, no, wait. I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean it like that, I swear. Don’t go! I’m getting it, right now.”

“Plus a month’s severance.”

“W-what are you talking about, severance?” she asked, incredulous. When he put his hand on the truck’s open door, she capitulated. “Fine!” She peered over his shoulder, where one of the armed men was trying to poke his head through the bars, as if testing to see if he could fit. “Oh, Jesus,” she said under her breath. “J-just wait. Please, Daniel.”

He clenched his jaw. “You’ve got sixty seconds, then I’m gone and that gate’s going to be open. You get me?”

She didn’t wait to answer and turned to sprint back into the house. Cecilia stood in the open doorway and Vivienne shoved her back inside.

“I told you to stay inside!” she shouted as she thundered up the stairs to her bedroom.

Inside the closet stood the floor safe. Vivienne’s fingers trembled as she punched in the code, but she mistyped and it beeped angrily at her, as if heckling her incompetence. Shit! Three misses in a row and it would time-lock for twenty-four hours. She took a calming breath and carefully typed in the code, then pressed Open. It unlocked.

Ripping open the door, she grabbed for the monstrous Smith & Wesson Model 4506 first, fumbling to slide the magazine into the handle, but her hands shook too much and it wouldn’t go in. Frustrated, she stuffed it into the back of her slacks and grabbed a stack of hundred dollar bills off the shelf and clambered back to her feet. She lost her footing on the stairs in her rush to descend and had to grab onto the railing with both hands to keep from nose-diving, violently spinning her body in the process. She slammed into the railing and both the cash and the gun went flying over the side. The gun clattered and slid across the hardwood floors, and the cash fluttered in a shower of bills.