“I’m just keeping the local guys happy.

Go home, relax, and let me take care of the ridge.”

“Give Kurt back his money,” I said.

Brad reached for his office door and pulled it open, his eyes flat and clear behind that polite smile.

“I’ve got a delivery coming in at twelve, Amy,” he said quietly.

“We can talk about your little feelings some other time.”

I walked out past the row of mowers without answering.

At two o’clock I was sitting in a leather armchair on the third floor of the brick law office on Main Street.