Hell, there were other notaries around. Let him go hose somebody else if he didn’t want to play ball.
Dalton looked at him for a moment, as if considering Ray’s objection. “What’s that picture on the wall there?” he asked suddenly, pointing at a framed photo.
“That’s the Mifflin hacienda. Belonged to my folks.” The photo was of a U-shaped ranch-style house with a wide verandah and shuttered windows. The blue of the ocean was visible beyond the dry scrub that surrounded the house. There was a terra-cotta and tile fountain in front with a sporty-looking old car parked beside it.
“And now the place is yours?” Dalton asked him.
“It sure as hell is, whenever I can find the time to get down there.”
“It was your birthright, your inheritance?”
“I guess you could put it that way. It’s only about four hours away, too. Outside a little village called Punta Rioja—just below Ensenada.” Ray instantly regretted saying this. He was talking too much, getting too familiar with a man he didn’t know. That was against the rules.
“That’s how you learned the language, then?”
“That’s right.”
“It’s come in handy for you, too.”
“There’s a big Hispanic population up here. They pay taxes.”
“That’s good to hear. They need help, and they come toRay Mifflin. I bet they need all
kinds
of help.”
“I’m not sure I follow you.”
Dalton shook his head, as if what he’d said wasn’t important anyway. He waved his papers in the air. “Well, you’ve got
your
little hacienda already. I guess you understand what I’m talking about here.”
“Yes, sir,” Ray said. “And so will your father. All we need is his signature, like I said.”
“You’ve seen the signature before, though. It’s not as if this thing doesn’t have a history. I mean, this isn’t the first of these. And as I said before, you’ve already met my father.”
“Well, the county doesn’t have as much respect for history as you and I do, Mr. Dalton. Legally, either your father’s got to be here or else you’ve got to have two witnesses to attest to the fact that this is his signature.”
“Are you implying that you don’t believe this is his signature?” He laid the papers on the desktop and gestured at them.
“Hell
, no,” Ray told him. “But this isn’t about what
I
believe. This is about what’s legal and illegal. I’d love to do you a favor, Mr. Dalton, but I’ve got a career on the line here, and I’m afraid I’ve got to follow the rules.”
Dalton shrugged and sat back in his seat. “I guess maybe we can get an ambulance to transport him. I don’t like it, though. I can’t imagine that’s what the law had in mind.”
“Like I said, how about a couple of witnesses to the signature? That ought to be easy enough. Either that or I could run on out to Huntington Beach with you. I’d have to charge you my hourly plus travel, but if that’s the only way to work it …” He held his hands out and shrugged. “What is it, anyway? Another quitclaim deed? Not that it’s any of my business, aside from the signature question.”
“That’s it. Quitclaim deed again. Real estate. I’ve still got to get his estate under control before the tax man gets hold of it. I already feel like a vulture, you know, grabbing these deeds like this. But the government doesn’t let you do anything else. And like I said, I don’t want to bother my father with this. There’s no use for the two of us to go pushing into his sickroom and shoving a pen into his hand.He’s my father, for God’s sake. He deserves a little bit of respect.”
“I sympathize with that. That’s my attitude, too. But we’re all legislated into hard corners, Mr. Dalton. Why don’t you round up those witnesses and come back in during regular hours?” Ray stood up and held his hand out. If Dalton shook it and left, then to hell with the hundred bucks or anything else. He wouldn’t be back.
Dalton didn’t get up,
Dalton looked at him for a moment, as if considering Ray’s objection. “What’s that picture on the wall there?” he asked suddenly, pointing at a framed photo.
“That’s the Mifflin hacienda. Belonged to my folks.” The photo was of a U-shaped ranch-style house with a wide verandah and shuttered windows. The blue of the ocean was visible beyond the dry scrub that surrounded the house. There was a terra-cotta and tile fountain in front with a sporty-looking old car parked beside it.
“And now the place is yours?” Dalton asked him.
“It sure as hell is, whenever I can find the time to get down there.”
“It was your birthright, your inheritance?”
“I guess you could put it that way. It’s only about four hours away, too. Outside a little village called Punta Rioja—just below Ensenada.” Ray instantly regretted saying this. He was talking too much, getting too familiar with a man he didn’t know. That was against the rules.
“That’s how you learned the language, then?”
“That’s right.”
“It’s come in handy for you, too.”
“There’s a big Hispanic population up here. They pay taxes.”
“That’s good to hear. They need help, and they come toRay Mifflin. I bet they need all
kinds
of help.”
“I’m not sure I follow you.”
Dalton shook his head, as if what he’d said wasn’t important anyway. He waved his papers in the air. “Well, you’ve got
your
little hacienda already. I guess you understand what I’m talking about here.”
“Yes, sir,” Ray said. “And so will your father. All we need is his signature, like I said.”
“You’ve seen the signature before, though. It’s not as if this thing doesn’t have a history. I mean, this isn’t the first of these. And as I said before, you’ve already met my father.”
“Well, the county doesn’t have as much respect for history as you and I do, Mr. Dalton. Legally, either your father’s got to be here or else you’ve got to have two witnesses to attest to the fact that this is his signature.”
“Are you implying that you don’t believe this is his signature?” He laid the papers on the desktop and gestured at them.
“Hell
, no,” Ray told him. “But this isn’t about what
I
believe. This is about what’s legal and illegal. I’d love to do you a favor, Mr. Dalton, but I’ve got a career on the line here, and I’m afraid I’ve got to follow the rules.”
Dalton shrugged and sat back in his seat. “I guess maybe we can get an ambulance to transport him. I don’t like it, though. I can’t imagine that’s what the law had in mind.”
“Like I said, how about a couple of witnesses to the signature? That ought to be easy enough. Either that or I could run on out to Huntington Beach with you. I’d have to charge you my hourly plus travel, but if that’s the only way to work it …” He held his hands out and shrugged. “What is it, anyway? Another quitclaim deed? Not that it’s any of my business, aside from the signature question.”
“That’s it. Quitclaim deed again. Real estate. I’ve still got to get his estate under control before the tax man gets hold of it. I already feel like a vulture, you know, grabbing these deeds like this. But the government doesn’t let you do anything else. And like I said, I don’t want to bother my father with this. There’s no use for the two of us to go pushing into his sickroom and shoving a pen into his hand.He’s my father, for God’s sake. He deserves a little bit of respect.”
“I sympathize with that. That’s my attitude, too. But we’re all legislated into hard corners, Mr. Dalton. Why don’t you round up those witnesses and come back in during regular hours?” Ray stood up and held his hand out. If Dalton shook it and left, then to hell with the hundred bucks or anything else. He wouldn’t be back.
Dalton didn’t get up,
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