My left thumb went back and forth across my finger.

“Who told his lawyer the sale date, Mark?”

“That is the question I drove out here with.”

The barn smelled of damp hay and diesel.

Down the aisle the old Loadstar ticked as it cooled.

Mark took the paper back and folded it along its own crease.

“Tuesday night a neighbor watched him carry boxes out of the Oak Ridge house.

Trunk full, back seat full, a little after ten.”