“I’m just curious how thoroughly your clients commercialized land they don’t own.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know Jack owns the fee simple title.”
“The agreement grants seasonal recreational access.”
“Assuming it’s authentic.”
“It bears his signature.”
“Jack was deployed overseas.”
Bradley turned toward me.
For the first time, nobody had apparently told him that.
“When?”
“The date of the agreement.”
He looked back at Trish.
She looked at Linda.
Linda looked at the ground.
That was interesting.
Rachel noticed it too.
“Mrs. Price?”
Linda’s head lifted.
She was around sixty.
Silver-blond hair.
Expensive quilted jacket.
Nervous hands.
“What?”
“You seem familiar with the document.”
“No.”
“You looked concerned.”
“I’m concerned because Mr. Mercer is ruining months of work.”
Tyler drove another row.
A hundred feet of maze disappeared behind the combine.
Rachel glanced toward it.
“Technically, you ruined months of his work first.”
