“Call Sheriff Tomlin.”
“Over an auction tractor?”
“Over disputed property with your father’s ownership tag and a seller trying to walk out.”
May looked toward the office.
Henry lowered his voice.
“And take photographs of everything.”
She did.
Serial plate.
Brass tag.
Front casting.
Rear axle.
Hood.
Lot number.
Auction catalog.
Samuel’s note.
Then she photographed the entire tractor from every side.
The auction barn had transformed into a crime scene nobody officially called a crime scene yet.
Sheriff Tomlin arrived twenty-six minutes later.
He was not dramatic.
That disappointed several farmers who seemed to expect handcuffs before lunch.
David Tomlin was fifty-nine, calm, heavyset, and famous for taking long enough to answer questions that people sometimes thought he had forgotten them.
He walked into the barn.
Removed his hat.
Looked at the tractor.
Then May.
“Start at the beginning.”
She did.
He listened without interruption.
When she finished, he read Samuel’s note twice.
Then inspected the brass tag.
“Your father worked for Deere?”
“No.”
“Dealer?”
“He repaired equipment independently.”
Henry spoke.
“Could have been a local field custodian.”
David looked toward him.
“Meaning?”
“Manufacturers sometimes placed evaluation units with dealers, test farms, contractors, mechanics. Depends on era.”
“What era?”
Henry looked at the tractor again.
“Late sixties, maybe early seventies.”
David sighed.
“Nothing simple?”
“Not today.”
Vernon finally returned.
With an attorney.
That caused another wave of murmurs.
His attorney introduced himself as Miles Archer from North Platte.
David looked at him.
“Fast.”
“I happened to be nearby.”
Nobody believed that.
May certainly did not.
Miles said:
“My client is happy to cooperate. However, he cannot allow interference with an active auction inventory based solely on speculative claims.”
David pointed toward the tractor.
“Is the auction still active?”
“Suspended.”
“Good.”
David looked at Vernon.
“Show me the consignment paperwork.”
Miles answered.
“We can provide copies.”
“Now.”
A pause.
Then Vernon handed over a folder.
David read.
Midwest Agricultural Recovery LLC.
Seller certification.
Asset acquired through abandoned equipment liquidation.
Previous location listed only as:
CUTLER STORAGE PARCEL — SOUTH OUTBUILDING.
May’s stomach dropped.
“My property?”
Vernon looked at Miles.
Miles said:
“Not necessarily.”
May grabbed the page before David could stop her.
Cutler.
She read the parcel number.
Recognized it.
Not the current farm.
The old forty-acre tract Samuel had sold after her mother died.
It included an abandoned machine shed half a mile south of their current property.
Samuel sold the land to cover medical bills.