“Keep your bedroom door locked,” David said.

His tone changed, sharpening into something cold and precise.

“I need dates, cash amounts, and whatever deed paperwork he gave you.”

I reached for the yellow legal pad resting on my knees.

“The check was written on April twelfth for eighty-five thousand dollars.

I handed it to him right at his kitchen island.”

“Did he give you a copy of the deed filing?”

“He told me the county recorder’s office was running six months behind on paperwork.”