Simple Mistrust

Simple Mistrust

“Stop Albany don’t do it!” whispered Quincy as he grabbed her arm.

The woman he was secretly in love with, wrenched herself away from his grip.

“I must tell someone who can do something about it!”

He watched her run up to the station door and pull it open.

“Are you coming?” she said through gritted teeth.

“They can’t be trusted.”

She stared at him aghast. Then she let go of the door and came back to him.

“Then what do we do? “

“We stop them ourselves!”

“You’re insane!” she told him as she began to shake him.

“Don’t you get it; the cops are in on the scam, they have to be, how else have they managed to get away with taking depositor’s money and pretending it’s still there!”

“Simple Trust, my foot! The interest they offer is too high to be viable for customers, but that’s what draws them in. We will stop them, but I think we need to convince the Feds.”

“You mean the Treasury Department? They’ll probably throw us out on our ears!”

“You forget, I’ve got this,” Albany said as she pulled out the thumb drive.

“What if they think we’re doing it? Then what?”

“I have an ace up my sleeve, Quincy, don’t worry so much.”

That night’s news was full of the raid on Simple Trust headquarters. Albany and Quincy devoured the coverage.

“Tell me who that guy is again,” he said to Albany.

“I call him Uncle Byron, but we aren’t related. He’s my godfather and my dad’s best friend.”

“He’s some hotshot in Treasury?”

“Something like that, yes.”

Quincy eyed her for a long time.

“Sorry, I can’t tell you the whole thing ever, or I’ll be in real trouble with someone even higher up than him.”