Tyler did not look at the notepad.

He leaned against the side of his SUV and smiled, his teeth very white in the twilight.

“Oh, the surveyor,” Tyler said, his words coming in a rapid-fire rush.

“Great guys, very thorough.

But you know how those old county maps are, Joan.

They use technology from the dark ages.

It is all about modern parcel optimization these days.”

“He found the original iron pin,” I said, my voice sounding small even to me.