“Banks have to report transactions over ten thousand to the government,” she said.

“Your father used to tell me about business owners doing that to avoid attention.”

I looked at the initials next to the deposit slips.

They were marked with the letter ‘D’.

“Who is ‘D’?” I muttered.

“Could it be that man who used to come to the house late at night?” my mother asked.

“The one who drove the silver sedan?”

“Daniel,” I said, the name suddenly clicking in my mind.

“Grant’s old business associate.”

“He handled the off-the-books transactions for the construction projects,” my mother recalled.

“I remember Grant speaking to him on the patio, arguing about cash bags.”

I grabbed a notepad and wrote the name down.

“If Daniel has the records, Grant’s entire financial structure could fall apart,” I said.

“You need to get this to your legal aid lawyer tomorrow,” my mother said.

“And Nolan’s school drawings too,” I added.

“The ones Mrs. Latham gave me showing how Nolan feels when he is at his father’s house.”

I reached into my bag and pulled out the legal logbook I had been keeping.