“I confirmed the electronic transfer receipt before you came through the front door.”

“So those fake leases are completely void,” I said.

“Every last one of them,” Patricia said.

“He has no legal claim to your land, no right to cross your fence line, and nothing left to defend himself with under Wisconsin law.”

I put the signed release into my yellow folder, zipped my leather bag closed, and thanked Patricia before walking out to the parking lot.

The drive back to Elk Mound took twenty minutes under a dark gray sky that promised snow before nightfall.