A Two Thousand Dollar Nebraska Land Purchase Leads to a Federal Fraud Case
“Afternoon, Arthur,” Thomas said, looking up. “You need another load of mineral blocks?”
“No,” I said, leaning against the counter. “I cannot run the tractor, so I do not have much use for supplies right now.”
Thomas sighed, setting his pen down. “I heard about that injunction. People are talking about it down at the diner. It is a damn shame, Arthur. A man ought to be able to work his own soil.”
“I do not know if I have the strength to fight it, Thomas,” I said, letting my shoulders slump a little. “My grandfather’s inheritance is mostly gone, and Sarah Finch wants three thousand dollars just to get us into a courtroom. I am fifty-eight years old. I did thirty years of diesel work to get some peace, not to spend my days staring at legal papers.”
Thomas looked sympathetic. “They have deep pockets, Arthur. That husband of hers, Chadwick, he was in here last week buying posts. Didn’t say two words to anyone. Just paid with a corporate card and left.”
