He cleared his throat twice, took off his reading glasses, and leaned in close to Brad’s shoulder.

“Brad,” Vance whispered, his voice so low the rest of us had to lean forward to hear.

“If this document leaves this room and lands on the district attorney’s desk down the hall, we’re not looking at a property dispute anymore.

We’re looking at a criminal indictment.”

Brad’s neck went red, but the color drained from his face until his skin looked like wet paper.

The charm he wore like a fresh shirt was gone completely.