A Two Thousand Dollar Nebraska Land Purchase Leads to a Federal Fraud Case
Deputy Reynolds came out of the side door, holding a thick blue folder under his arm. He didn’t have his uniform hat on, and the wind was blowing his thin grey hair across his forehead as he walked toward me with a slow, heavy stride.
“They are already halfway to Lincoln,” Reynolds said, stopping by the front fender of my truck and leaning his hip against the metal.
I adjusted my cap, keeping my hands inside my pockets to hide how cold they were.
“Agent Santos said they had the warrants signed before noon,” I said, watching a semi truck roar past on the state highway.
Reynolds nodded, tapping the blue folder against his thigh with a steady, rhythmic click.
“The federal marshals had been waiting down at the state line since six this morning,” he said. “They wanted to make sure they had both of them in the same room before they moved in, just to keep them from destroying the digital records on their computers.”
I looked at the light bar on his patrol car, the red and blue plastic dusty from the dry gravel roads.
