“Just the routing code,” Marcus said, closing the file. “It went to a local commercial account.”
The air in the basement of the Oak Creek Public Library smelled of damp stone and old newspaper.
An elderly archivist with a green plastic visor pointed me toward the microfiche machine in the corner of the room.
“The local business registry files for the county are on those three shelves,” she said, lifting a heavy cardboard box of tax records onto her desk. “We do not get many visitors down here anymore.”
I threaded the plastic film through the glass rollers, searching for any corporation registered in the county during the last eighteen months.
The screen flickered with grey light as I turned the black wheel.
On the third roll, a filing for Oak Creek Consulting LLC caught my eye.
The registration date was November sixth, three weeks after my final fertility treatment failed.
The registered agent was Madison Vance.
