He pushed the foundation check across the mahogany desk next to the bank checks.

“Where is Arthur going now?” Brenda asked.

“He has until five o’clock to collect his private tool chest from the Strasburg barn,” Nathaniel said, picking his watch up off the desk.

“Is he keeping his work truck?” Brenda asked.

“That depends on what happens in the yard,” Nathaniel said.

By four thirty, the sky over the Strasburg site barn had turned the color of damp slate.

Arthur stood in the muddy driveway beside his dark red pickup truck, hauling heavy steel toolboxes from the wooden staging area into the truck bed.