A Two Thousand Dollar Nebraska Land Purchase Leads to a Federal Fraud Case
He stepped back, wiped his hands on his jeans, and tapped his screen twice. “I just sent a test image. Check your phone.”
I pulled my old flip phone from my pocket, but then remembered the smartphone Sarah had lent me for the week. I slid the screen open and tapped the icon Greg had pointed out. A sharp, clear picture of my own pasture appeared on the screen, with the date and time stamped in bright green numbers along the bottom edge.
“It is working,” I said, the green numbers ticking forward with the seconds.
“The battery will last thirty days,” Greg said, packing his tools back into his bag. “Just keep your phone close. If anyone approaches that gate, you will know within five seconds.”
I thanked him and watched his truck drive down the county road, leaving a thin trail of white dust that hung in the cold air.
At three o’clock, I drove into town and stopped at the local feed store. The store was a long, metal building that smelled of sweet molasses, dry alfalfa, and the oiled leather of work boots. Thomas, the owner, was behind the wooden counter, sorting through a stack of invoices.
