Grace poured black coffee into a heavy ceramic mug and put it next to my yellow notepad without saying anything.

“The four-hundred-dollar title search fee was logged at the county clerk’s window at twelve fifteen on Tuesday,” I said, sliding three cards into a straight line.

Grace smoothed her linen apron over her lap as she listened.

“And Frank’s forty-five-thousand-dollar wire went through at twelve thirty-five,” I said.

I lined up the card for the twelve-thousand-dollar cashier’s check just below them.

“The check Frank gave Lauren came out of his corporate holding account forty minutes after the entry in the notary log,” I said.