A Two Thousand Dollar Nebraska Land Purchase Leads to a Federal Fraud Case
“My southern fifty feet is where my grandfather’s old timber lane runs,” I said. “It has three black walnut trees that were planted before the war.”
“We can easily work around those,” she said. She pulled a folded sheet of white paper from her coat pocket and laid it on the oil drum next to the pastries. “This is a basic memorandum of understanding. It just needs your signature so I can show the board we are making progress.”
I looked at the paper, then down at my boots. “I will have Sarah Finch look at it.”
Her face went rigid for a fraction of a second, the skin around her eyes tightening before she forced another warm smile. “Attorney Finch is a litigation specialist, Arthur. She makes her living by keeping people angry at each other. If you involve her, this will turn into a twelve-month dispute that will cost you more than the original assessment.”
“I do not sign papers without my mechanic looking at the gears,” I said. “And Sarah is my mechanic for this.”
