A Twenty-Dollar Bill Dropped Into the Dust Beside a Tennessee Highway
The rest of the office was dim.
He looked up and squinted at me.
“Garrett.
Haven’t seen you since the quarterly reconciliation.”
“I’ve got a quick question,” I said.
I took the folded quitclaim deed out of my jacket pocket and laid it flat on his desk.
I smoothed out the folds.
I pointed at the blue ink and the black stamp at the bottom.