There was a filing stamp at the top, dated Thursday.

“You filed yesterday,” I said.

“Better to get it done before the weekend.” He reached back and patted his back pocket, the way he did when he was leaving a room.

The wallet was there.

I could see the shape of it through his jeans.

“There’s something else,” he said.

“Half of nothing is still nothing, Patty, so don’t expect to walk away with anything valuable.”

He smiled, and I saw a crumb on his front tooth.