He slid a signed receipt across the table. The paper carried the date of the lake lot sale, the amount of $41,200, and a signature that looked like Caleb’s.
I checked the date twice.
“This says you received the funds.”
“It says the sale was completed and accounted for,” Caleb replied. “The bookkeeper signed off on it.”
Lorraine returned to her chair. “There. Can we have one meal without turning it into an inquiry?”
I looked at the signature. It appeared genuine, but the receipt did not name the destination account.
“Where is the account number?” I asked.
Caleb folded his napkin in half. “Why would a receipt need that?”
“Because I want to know where the money went.”
“You have your answer.”
“No, I have your signature.”
Lorraine lifted my plate and moved it closer to me, though I had not touched the chicken.
“Hannah would not have wanted this,” she said.
