“You live in California now, Miss Collins?” he asked, looking over his glasses at my driver’s license.

“I live here, and my professional transfer takes effect this month,” I said.

“I’m here to file an informational record about my vehicle.”

I slid my California temporary registration slip, my original paid title, and the voicemail transcript across the metal tray.

He picked up the printout of Arthur’s voicemail from three days earlier and read it aloud in a flat monotone.

“Iris Elizabeth Collins.