“The delivery cars are scheduled for two o’clock tomorrow afternoon,” he said.

“Marcus will have the inner gates locked and ready,” I told him.

I reached across the blotter and pulled the red leather ledger toward my chest.

I ran my thumb over the worn grain where my father’s initials were stamped into the corner.

Outside the window, the sun dipped below the jagged ridge of the Valle mountains, leaving deep purple shadows across the pine trees.

I closed the red leather ledger on my desk as the sun went down over the mountains.