Miriam Found A Broken Link In The County Record

"An index isn't the document," Miriam said. "We need the image and a certified copy."

She ordered both. I paid her $150 for the search and records, using my business card.

The image arrived first.

My name sat beneath a claim that I had given up my royalty rights in all four tracts for $10 and other value received. A notary's stamp filled the lower corner.

The signature looked like mine until I looked at the D.

I had signed Deborah with a plain straight stem since a hand injury made loops hurt. This D had a large loop, just like my signature on our wedding papers twenty-three years earlier.

"He had old examples," I said.

Miriam studied the date.

"Where were you on June sixth last year?"

"In Casper. A lab's polishing machine had failed. I helped clear their backlog."

"Get the invoice, hotel bill, and anyone who saw you. Don't write on this copy."

I reached for a pen, then put it down.

"Can you tell the county it's fake?"

"We can dispute it. A clerk can't decide a forgery claim at the counter. You need a lawyer."

Her answer disappointed me, which helped me trust it.

"What do you charge after today?" I asked.

She gave me her hourly rate and a written limit. She would call before going over it.

Curtis had always waved away those questions when someone asked him to explain a fee. Miriam waited while I read every line.

"I can handle the record requests myself if that saves money," I said.

"Some of them. I'll mark which ones."

We divided the list between us. It was the first plan in days that included work I could actually do.

She called a Laramie attorney, Nora Pike, and asked about an opening. I carried my blue case to Nora's office that afternoon.

Nora read without offering me a quick victory.

"We'll deal with the marriage and the property claims," she said. "The fact that money passed through an account doesn't answer who owned it. The deed matters. So does what happened afterward."

"He'll say I gave it to him."

"Then he'll need to support that."

Her retainer was $2,500. I paid it and felt the small balance left in my business account like a loose tooth.

"I need to keep working," I said.

"Please do. Save records of every household expense you cover."

With me beside her, Nora called Sage Fold Minerals, the operator named on the division orders. She sent my identification and a signed request for my owner file.

The owner relations clerk sounded uneasy.

"We received an assignment and new payment instructions."

"Did Deborah sign a replacement division order?" Nora asked.

There was a pause.

"I will need our counsel to review that."

Nora sent a written dispute and a demand to preserve all records. She asked that disputed payments be held while ownership was reviewed.

"That's a request today," she told me. "We may need an order."

At home, Curtis had placed a yellow legal pad beside my supper plate.

"I worked out a clean split," he said.

The page offered me my equipment, my car, and $4,000. He would keep his company, his retirement account, and what he called the mineral obligations.

"You mean my minerals."

"You mean a tax problem."

I held a slide toward the kitchen light. Pale grains glowed around a black chip.

"Put that thing down," he said.

"I'm thinking."

"That's your trouble. You study a pebble until the deal leaves town."

He pushed the pad closer.

"Sign, and I'll replace the household money."

"Send your proposal to my lawyer."

His fork struck the plate.

"You hired someone? With whose money?"

"Money from work that paid for itself."

He stood, took his coat, and left his supper untouched.

I did not follow him. I packed the original documents in my work bag and put digital copies in storage he could not reach.

The next morning, I finished eighteen slides. My client paid an overdue $1,260 invoice after I called. That covered groceries, heat, and a little room to breathe.

Near noon, Miriam rang.

"The company filing names Curtis as manager," she said. "No surprise there. But the assignment lists a return address that isn't his office."

It was a rented suite on the west side of Laramie.

I knew the address. Curtis had said he was helping a new land assistant set up there.

Her name was Tessa Vale.

"Don't drive over," Miriam said. "Addresses give us places to send requests."

I stayed at my bench.

Late that day, Nora forwarded the first royalty statement the operator had released for review. It covered the North Draw tract. Fourteen payments totaled $64,480, all sent to High Basin.

Attached was a message from Curtis asking for a separate income letter.

His reason was short: North Draw would support Tessa's purchase of a house.

Below that message sat a draft promise giving her half its future royalties.