It went into the inside pocket of his coat.

“Those are Mother’s statements,” I said.

“They’re family statements.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“You know your trouble, Sarah?

You see a number on a piece of paper and decide there’s a crime in the house.

Meanwhile, the gutter on that garage is hanging by one nail, and nobody’s said a word about it.”

Martha’s hands went flat over the button tin.

“Brandon.