“Lucas didn’t borrow.”

“You would know, wouldn’t you?” He pushed the form across the blotter with one finger.

Courtney came away from the window and tapped her nails on the edge of the desk, four times, in no hurry.

“The taxes on Maple Street run nine thousand four hundred a year,” she said.

“You know what that is on a school librarian’s salary?

That’s your whole summer, darling.”