Every Night at Six Thirty, Bob Drove Away, Until His Other Wife Said My Name

Clara tapped her silver pen on her leather notepad.

“It’s a legal notice of sole ownership, based on an unrecorded quitclaim deed Bob filed at nine this morning.”

“He doesn’t own this house by himself,” I said.

“The probate log shows him as the sole title holder as of two hours ago,” Clara whispered, moving in closer.

“He turned in a quitclaim deed with your notarized mark on it from three years ago.”

The locksmith snapped the brass latch on his tool case shut and walked past us toward his truck.