Donna swiveled her monitor around so I could see the screen.

“Nothing filed,” Donna said.

“If Brad’s got some arrangement going out there, it’s completely off the books.”

I drove directly from Menomonie back to the farm and turned into the gravel drive a little before noon.

At one o’clock Gordon Lund parked his white Chevy pickup beside my barn.

Gordon came up to the driver’s window, hitched up his leather belt buckle, and gave a single nod.

“You wanted those deer stands looked at for property value,” Gordon said.