Helen laid the form down and pressed its corner flat with her thumb.

“He signed it in February,” she said.

“The notary stamp’s right there, plain as day.”

I picked it back up.

Walter’s signature ran firm along the bottom line without a single shake in it.

“So why would Patricia’s doctor say he was gone by January?”

Helen rubbed her knuckles, slowly and evenly.

“Because a doctor will say whatever he’s paid to say.”