I looked at the sad jumble of concrete and weeds. “Good luck with that,” I said. “But why are you still smiling?” I wasn’t complaining, mind you, just asking.
“Do you remember my brother, Keith, from back in high school?”
I shook my head. “Nope. Why?”
“Keith is a VP at the local bank, which has been in business long before the O’Malley homestead was even built. I bet they’re the ones who own the property now, if what that woman back there said was true. And I bet they have the original paperwork for it, too. Maybe someone cosigned. Maybe there’s some contact info we can use.” He looked at his watch. “Bank is closing in thirty minutes.” He looked back up at me. “I bet none of the folks around this neighborhood lived here back when the O’Malleys did. We should’ve guessed that. It’s your call, but I say we hit up Keith instead.”
Just out of curiosity, I asked, “He look anything like you?”
Dave shrugged. “Mom says he’s the looker in the family.”