“How much do we owe them?” I asked.

“Eighteen thousand six hundred dollars,” Frank said, tossing his rag into an empty plastic bucket.

“They won’t deliver another gallon until the past-due balance is paid in full.”

“The main operating account had forty-five thousand dollars in it when I checked the wire transfers last month,” I said.

Frank glanced at the padlocked equipment shed before meeting my eyes.

“Your adoptive mother pulled thirty thousand dollars out of that account on the first of November.”

“On what legal authority?” I asked.