Ann Sullivan had just sat down to breakfast when the phone rang. “Awful early for someone to be calling,” she thought, and she felt her body tense as she reached to answer the call. “Was it an emergency?” She wished now she’d put in her hearing aids.

“Ms. Sullivan, my name’s Steven Smith. I’m with the law firm Smith and Sons. Your grandson was in an accident. He was driving drunk. The person he hit is in the hospital in serious condition. He’s retained me to represent him. He said you’d be able to provide at least an initial retainer fee, as well as to post bail. He’s calling you both because he knows his folks don’t have the money, and he really doesn’t want them knowing about this. Will you keep his secret?””

Ann caught her breath. The whole world seemed to spin. “Is he hurt?”

“Not as bad as the lady in the hospital. They’ve released him to the Maricopa County Madison Street Jail.”

Ann knew about that jail, and knew it was a tough place to be.

“How much are we talking?”

“Ten thousand.”

“Ten thousand! I-uh-I don’t know. Maybe if it doesn’t go beyond that…”

“Then what I need for you to do is to go to your bank online, and send me the money, via Zelle, to steven@smithandsonslaw.com. That’ll need to be done over a period of 3 days, because of Zelle’s sending limit of $3500 per day.”

“Zelle?”

“Yes. It’s an app banks use to send money between accounts using an email address rather than account numbers. It’s spelled z e l l e. Usually it’s under the payments and transfers tab. But the name depends on the bank, of course. Just find something having to do with payments or transfers, and that should get you to the right spot.”

“I don’t feel comfortable doing this online. I’ll go to the bank when it opens, but that won’t be for another 45 minutes or so.

Smith let out an exasperated sigh. “Bankers’ hours, literally. Just tell the teller you want to zelle $3500 to steven@smithandsonslaw.com as payment for your grandson’s bail and legal fees. Like I said, it’ll need to be done over a period of 3 days, so if you can have the folks at the bank teach you how to do this online, it’ll save you a couple trips. I know your grandson appreciates this, Ms. Sullivan. I’ll call back at 9:30.”

He knows my name. This must be legitimate, Ann thought. She looked at the email address she’d written down. steven@smithandsonslaw.com. She decided to see if there was a website at smithandsonslaw.com, just to reassure herself. There she saw a picture of the inside of a spacious building with a directory near the elevator, and a listing on the second floor of Smith and Sons Law Offices. She clicked on the ‘About’ and ‘What We Do’ pages. Everything looked in order.

She then did a quick search of Zelle on Google. Most banks used it. Indeed, it appeared to have been started by a consortium of the larger banks. It confirmed even more in her mind the legitimacy of the call.

As the clock in the village square struck 9:00, Ann was standing outside the First Bank of Belleville when the doors opened.

“Hello, Ms. Sullivan,” Marcia Atwood greeted cheerfully. Ann silently handed her a withdrawal slip for $3500. Marcia looked surprised.

“Is everything ok, Ms. Sullivan?”

“Yes. I just need to send my grandson some money. Via, uh, Zelle.” She hesitated on the word.

“I think this is your first time using Zelle, isn’t it?”

Ann nodded.

“I know you well, Ann, but, even so, it is standard procedure for our bank to get a manager to sign off on Zelle withdrawals of more than $3500 and all withdrawals for first time Zelle users. It’s to prevent folks from being scammed. I’m going to get Julie, my supervisor. I’ll just be a minute.”

Ann opened her mouth to protest, but Marcia was gone before she had the opportunity. When Marcia returned, she was accompanied by both the bank manager Julie Harper and the off-duty police officer who provided security for the bank on his days off, Officer Pat Shannon.

“Hello, Ms. Sullivan. Could we have a seat in my office?” Julie asked.

“But why? This is simple. I just need my money.”

“Yes, well, there is some paperwork associated with that. We generally ask patrons to come back to my office, as it’s a much more comfortable and quiet place.”

Ann wanted to protest further, but decided to just go along to get along. Reluctantly, she followed Julie and the police officer to a modest office toward the back of the building.

Once Ann and Pat were seated, Julie closed the door behind them. Ann studied the family photo on Julie’s desk. “Are Bill and the kids doing well?” she asked.

Yes, thank you,” Julie answered. “Ms Sullivan, there is a very common scam, often targeting grandparents, though other relatives can be involved as well, that asks people to send money to help loved ones. Sometimes they say it’s an accident, an arrest, being robbed of all their money. Whatever the story is, they ask you to send money by methods that are hard to get the money back once it’s sent. Zelle is a favorite. It’s pretty much like sending cash. So what I need to ask you is, is this what’s happening to you?”

Ann nodded. She began to feel sick again. Had she fallen for a scam?

“I checked the website associated with the domain of the email address,” Ann said. “It looks very legitimate.”

“It’s dead simple–and relatively cheap–to make a very professional-looking website these days. With the ability of AI to create images, it’s even easier and cheaper now,” Julie replied. “Have you perhaps checked with your grandson or his folks?”

Julie’s voice seemed to come from a great distance. Ann looked stunned. She shook her head and slumped in her chair.

“Please let’s just do that before I release the money,” Julie said. “It’s all gonna be ok, Ann. We’re here to help you every step of the way, no matter what. That is what we here at First Bank of Belleville do. We look out for our customers.”

“She’s right, you really should check,” Officer Shannon echoed. “3 K and change is a lot of money. 10 k is even more. Bad enough if you really do need to bail your grandson out. At least you can pull it out of his hide if need be. You can’t do that with a scammer.”

Ann smiled slightly at the officer as she dialed her daughter.

“Sherry, is Bobby ok?” Ann asked when her daughter answered the phone.

“Well yes, of course. Why?”

Ann explained briefly.

“We just finished having breakfast together at Mimi’s,” Sherry said. “So yeah, I sincerely doubt he’s anywhere near Madison Street Jail.”

Ann felt the tension in her body drain.

“O, thank God!”

“Tell that guy if he calls back to assume a likely impossible anatomical position, Mom,” Sherry said. The two women laughed.

“Thank you all so much,” Ann said to Julie and Pat. And please thank Marcia too. I’m sorry I gave her such a hard time. I’ll apologize to her myself if she doesn’t have a customer with her when I leave.”

“No need,” Said Julie. “We see this sort of thing far more than we’d like. Tell that guy to do what your mom said.”