“Let the shop accountant look at it on Monday morning.”

“Numbers don’t lie unless someone holds the pencil with intent,” Nathaniel said.

Brenda took a folded cream invitation card from her clipboard and laid it on top of his gloves.

“The porch light is on at my house.

Don’t spend another night sitting in the dark with those blue site binders.”

Nathaniel didn’t touch the invitation.

He looked past Brenda’s shoulder through the front window, where a big black luxury SUV had pulled up beside the diesel pump island.

Arthur Vance stepped out of the driver’s side in a heavy tan shearling coat and a wide-brimmed felt hat.