“Did Arthur ever see a penny of that money?” I asked.

“Not one dollar,” Dalton said.

“The bank records show the money went out in three lump sums within ten days of closing.

I’m calling the title insurance underwriter first thing tomorrow morning.”

I left his downtown office and drove straight across town to Oak Ridge.

The autumn air was turning cold, and dry brown oak leaves skittered across the asphalt driveway as I pulled in behind my father’s black sedan at five o’clock.

I walked around the side of the craftsman house to the ground-level door that opened into the unfinished basement.