Samuel Reed Kept an Old Wooden Bat Behind the Pantry Door for Twenty Years

Signed Claire Reed Voss.”

“That is not her hand.”

“No,” Arthur said.

“It is not.”

He polished his spectacles with the silk handkerchief, put them back on, and read the acknowledgment page twice.

Then he pushed it across to me.

The notary line was blank.

No name, no seal, no date in the little box.