“We’ll find out when the formal service comes.”

He slid the disclosure form into an accordion folder and snapped the elastic band closed.

“Now go back down to the county archive and see Martha Higgins.

Ask her who approved that investigator note.”

By eleven forty-five I was back in the damp basement of the Oakridge County Records Office.

Martha Higgins sat behind the high wooden counter sorting yellowed index cards.

Her bronze key ring rattled against the wood as she looked up and saw me coming down the center aisle.