Arthur tapped the yellow pad.

“And what about the release?”

“It’s on my desk.

If Julian’s lawyer is smart, he’ll sign it before lunch.” Gordon didn’t smile.

“If he isn’t smart, we go to the district attorney.”

We drove over in Arthur’s truck.

The clerk’s window had a sign taped to the glass that read NO CELL PHONES.

The clerk, a woman with gray bangs and a heavy stapler, took Gordon’s envelope and started stamping every page.