Under it were bank statements, a trust document, and a small black notebook with a rubber band around it.

The trust paper had a coffee ring in the corner, and a paper clip had rusted onto the bank statements.

I opened the deed first.

Lot fourteen, Birch Lake, eighty feet of shoreline, recorded in the county on August 12.

“He bought a lake lot,” Arthur said.

He leaned over the page.

“Your father hated boats.”

“He liked to fish.”