“Hannah gave it to me.”
“When?”
“Before you left.”
I picked it up.
It was heavier than it looked.
“Why did you wait until now?”
“Because she told me to.”
“She told you to wait until when?”
Caroline shut the passenger door.
“Until you found the button.”
For several seconds, neither of us moved.
“She said those exact words?”
“Yes.”
“Why would she connect a button to an account ledger?”
“I asked her that.”
“What did she say?”
“She said you would understand when you saw it.”
I opened the ledger on the hood of the Buick.
Pages of figures filled the first section. Dates. Deposits. Property expenses. Transfers.
Then I saw a page folded at the corner.
Caroline watched me.
“That was the page she wanted you to find.”
I turned it over.
There were three account numbers written in Hannah’s handwriting.
One was the number from the lake lot transfer.
