Page 29 of Logan’s Way

The paperwork should have arrived by now. Three weeks was standard processing time. Angus was past four.

He checked the mailbox anyway. Empty.

Inside, he pulled up his email on the personal laptop and found the confirmation from state archives acknowledging his request. He noted the timeline:

Processing typically requires two to three weeks. You will be notified when documents are available for pickup or delivery.

He drafted a follow-up inquiry, keeping the language neutral:

Following up on document request submitted several weeks ago. Checking on processing status. Please advise.

The email sat in his drafts folder. He read it twice, then closed the laptop without sending it.

Calling attention to delayed documents meant creating a record of his concern. Meant putting his name in someone’s inbox with questions about why routine processing wasn’t routine. Meant potentially triggering exactly the kind of administrative scrutiny he was trying to avoid.

Restless from sitting, Angus clipped Scout's leash and drove to the county clerk's office in Weyport to file paperwork for his mother's estate — something that needed doing and at least gave the morning a purpose. The clerk at the counter was someone Angus had known for years — Margaret Collins, efficient and professional, who processed his requests without small talk because both preferred it that way.

She took his paperwork, reviewed it, then paused.

“There’s a notation on your account,” she said, not quite looking at him.

“Notation?”

“Administrative hold. Something about verification pending.” She turned her monitor slightly, showing him a screen with red text that Angus couldn’t quite read from his angle. “It’s probably nothing. Just means any filings need secondary review before processing.”

“Secondary review for estate paperwork?”

“I know. Doesn’t make sense to me either,” Margaret said apologetic, professional. “But the system won’t let me accept the filing without supervisor approval. And our supervisor is out until next week.”

“Next week.”

“I’m sorry, Sheriff. I can hold onto it and submit it when she’s back, but there’s nothing I can do about the hold without her authorization.” Margaret set the paperwork aside, already moving to help the next person in line. “Try again after the weekend. Should be cleared by then.”

Angus thanked her and left. The hold wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t accusatory. Just a routine flag requiring additional approval before processing. The kind of thing that happened for a dozen legitimate reasons—system errors, account reviews, random audits.

Except Angus had never encountered administrative holds before. He’d filed estate paperwork, permits, licenses, dozens of routine documents over the years. Never once had the system required secondary review.

Scout waited in the truck, tail wagging as Angus returned. The dog’s enthusiasm was uncomplicated, untouched by administrative holds, verification requirements, or the small bureaucratic delays piling up around routine tasks.

Angus drove to the bank.

His mortgage payment had been auto-drafted three days ago—the same automatic process that had worked for years. Except when he checked his account that morning, the payment was pending rather than processed. Not declined. Not rejected. Just … held.

At the bank, the teller pulled up his account and frowned.

“There’s a note here about enhanced verification protocols. It says any transactions over a certain threshold need confirmation before processing.” She clicked through screens, her expression uncertain. “This happens sometimes with auto-drafts. Usually clears within a few business days.”

“Enhanced verification.”

“It’s probably random. Security measure.” She smiled apologetically. “But I can’t override it without manager approval, and our manager is in a meeting. You could come back this afternoon?”

“What triggered the verification requirement?”

“Doesn’t say. Just shows it was implemented …” She checked the date. “Recently. Could be your account was flagged for routine security review. Could be something in the automatic fraud detection.”

Angus thanked her and left. The payment would clear. The verification was probably nothing. Random security measures happened all the time—banks protecting themselves, systems catching patterns that looked unusual even when they weren’t.

Except Angus’s account activity hadn’t changed. His transactions had been the same for years. Nothing unusual. Nothing that would trigger fraud detection or security protocols.