A Two Thousand Dollar Nebraska Land Purchase Leads to a Federal Fraud Case
“Ten dollars for the certified copy,” she said.
I slid a ten-dollar bill across the smooth wooden counter, the paper crisp and new. Dolores took the bill, placed it in the drawer, and reached for her heavy wooden seal.
With one solid, heavy thud, she pressed the seal onto the bottom corner of the parchment, leaving a clear purple mark of the county clerk’s office.
“The title is completely clear, Arthur,” she said, sliding the document toward me. “The Fairmont names have been removed from every index in this county.”
“I appreciate your help, Dolores,” I said, folding the paper and placing it in my shirt pocket.
“They tried to change the county records before the ink was even dry on the auction,” she said, looking back down at her ledger. “But some things do not change as fast as they think.”
I walked back out to the tractor, the parchment document flat against my chest under my denim jacket.
I drove the tractor back to the western pasture, turning through the gate we had finished repairing that morning. I lined the front wheels up with the old fence row, where the dry grass met the dark edge of the unplowed earth.
