I took out the legal document I’d spent two hours typing on the motel’s business center computer and laid it flat on his desk.

“What’s this?” Arthur asked.

“It’s a formal revocation of every earlier power of attorney,” I said.

“It says any authority given to Tiffany Vance was canceled on March fifth.”

Arthur pulled his reading glasses down off his forehead and squinted at the dark print.

“March fifth was four days before the quitclaim deed,” Arthur said.

“If I sign and stamp a revocation dated March fifth, I’m swearing under oath you were in this room four months ago.”

“You signed a deed on March ninth you knew was wrong,” I said.