“I told him the same thing,” Carl said.

“I told him you have your own account now and your own ledger books in my shop.”

“Did he leave?” I asked.

“He stood by the drive for five minutes looking at your truck,” Carl said.

“Then he got in his car and drove back toward the highway.”

“He thought if he kept the numbers hidden long enough, I’d stop asking where they came from,” I said.

Carl laid his yellow maintenance notebook on the step between us.