Arthur shuffled his boots on the mat and glanced back at the white pickup parked in the driveway.

“I’m only hired to do the appraisal report, mister,” he said.

“If there’s a dispute about the title, your lawyer has to file for a stay.”

Vanessa shoved past my shoulder into the front hall before I could catch the screen door handle.

“Start with the dining room,” she said, pointing toward the back.

“The floor sags by the radiator.”

Arthur followed her down the hall, the metal end of his tape measure clicking against his belt buckle.