Arthur took the folder in both hands, adjusting his glasses as his fingers pressed into the blue cover.

I passed the third blue folder to the second officer.

“That folder holds public courthouse records filed with the county court yesterday,” I said.

“They show Caldwell Logistics is up against a two-hundred-thousand-dollar asset foreclosure deadline this Thursday, September fifth.”

Harry’s yelling cut off in the middle of a sentence.

His heavy hand stayed locked on the golf cart’s steering wheel, his knuckles going white against the black rubber grip.

“And these last documents,” I said, opening the fourth blue folder and holding up the notarized township seals, “are certified land office filings showing that the property map Mr.