Bank statements. Invoices for the building materials at Hocking Hills.

Text messages from the contractor. Furniture receipts. And a notarized statement showing that her grandmother had given her forty thousand dollars toward the down payment on the Cincinnati house.

There was still a hole in it, though, and she knew it. She had transferred that forty thousand straight into Jason’s account — but that account was closed now, and the bank would not release records that old without a judge’s order, which meant she could show the money leaving her grandmother’s hands but not landing where it had gone.

A good lawyer, and Jason was a good lawyer, could drive a truck through a gap like that.

George picked up the property deed and studied the down-payment figure printed on it.

“This says the down payment was sixty thousand,” he said.