I looked at the blue checkbook lying on my grandfather’s table.

“Where does fifty thousand dollars in cash come from, Dad?”

My father pulled his hands back from the table and crossed his arms over his coat.

“I have private land investments.

That’s not your concern.”

“You told Daniel Vance you were broke,” I said.

“Daniel Vance is a small-town estate lawyer who talks too much,” my father said.

“Daniel pulled the wire receipts from Navy Federal,” I said.