I unzipped my duffel bag, took out Walter’s recorded property deeds, and laid them flat on the green wool blanket beside the flood appraisal.

I sat down on the narrow cot in the construction office with the title deeds spread out beside the flood report.

Frank set two ceramic mugs of black coffee on the desk next to my papers.

The pot had been brewing since five in the morning.

“The three low-boy trailers are staged behind the main workshop,” Frank said.

“If you give the word, we’ll move the earthmovers and the two excavators across town to the secure county storage lot before eight.”

“Do it,” I said.