The second marshal stepped up onto the porch next to my father.

“Arthur Vance,” the marshal said, pulling a second white sheet from his coat.

“You’re named as an unindicted co-conspirator in federal procurement fraud case 88-4.

You’re ordered to stay on the premises while defense asset recovery agents secure all the bank records inside.”

Arthur looked down at the marshal’s badge, then slowly turned his head toward me.

Every bit of color had drained from his cheeks.

“You set this up,” Arthur said, his lips hardly moving.