“The investigator from Madison turned up seven different loan applications tied to your old Social Security number.”

“Did any of those loans get approved before Friday?” I asked.

“Every last one was canceled as fraudulent,” Nancy said.

“Vance sent in the store assault report along with the quitclaim deed, and the bank cleared you of all liability.”

She slid the blue plastic debit card across the desk into my hand.

“Yours is the only name on this line,” she said.

I tucked the card into my coat’s front pocket, right beside the brass key to Sarah’s front door.