I adjusted my reading glasses and bent over the open ledger.

The handwritten line showed a forty-six-thousand-dollar check from Kade’s company, earmarked for my seminary tuition scholarship fund.

“Now check the bank deposit slip from that very Friday,” Wade said, pushing a thermal fax copy across the desk.

The deposit record showed the forty-six thousand dollars going straight into a private commercial holding account called Oakridge Management Services.

Arthur’s signature was on the bottom line as the receiving bank vice president.

“He diverted the second payment two years later, in 1981,” Wade said.