Arthur Vance stood in the doorway holding a pale white folder stamped with a blue county court seal.

“You should have taken the six hundred dollars, Nathaniel,” Arthur said.

Nathaniel slid the brass key into his vest pocket and rubbed his right wrist where his gold watch sat loose.

“The job board numbers don’t match your sub-tier billing, Arthur.”

Arthur stepped into the room and set the folder on the corner of the drafting table.

He straightened his silver tie bar with two fingers.

“That’s a formal legal injunction from the county clerk.