“I thought he was just strict about the groceries, Dad, but these signatures aren’t mine.

I’ve never seen this paper.”

Arthur polished his spectacles and set them back on his nose.

“Here’s the piece I don’t care for.”

He tapped a small blue stamp in the corner of the first page.

Mercer County Title, and a date in August.

“That’s across the county line,” he said.

“A Hartwell bank doesn’t take paper from a Mercer title office on a routine inquiry.”