Then she hoisted it higher on her arm.

“October eighteenth,” she said.

“Whatever paper you’ve got, hold on to it until then, and this county will forget your name all over again.

That’s all I’m asking.”

Megan got into her own car and pulled out first.

She didn’t look at either one of us.

I sat in my van with the envelope inside my coat until the lot was empty.

Vance keeps his office in a converted house on Third Street, with the law books shelved in what used to be the dining room.