“Because the old index entry from 2012 was marked restricted by the city clerk,” Clara said.

“Restricted by whom?” I asked.

“By your grandfather, Thomas,” Clara said.

“Was there a second signature on that restriction order?” Daniel asked.

“There was,” Clara said, resting her palm flat on the counter ledger.

“A circuit court official witnessed it.”

The afternoon light faded early, turning the damp sky over the Elizabeth River the color of wet slate.

Knox lay on the top porch step of the farmhouse, his broad head resting on his front paws as his dark eyes followed the gravel driveway.