It was a completion certificate. By signing it, the Whitakers had confirmed in writing that the job was finished to their satisfaction and that $5,300 was still owed. Dad had told them it was for his records, and it was. It was also exactly what a lien needed. Together with the coffee can full of initialed change slips, it left them no argument at all. Mr. Whitaker read his own name and stopped talking.

Ed explained the rest calmly, loud enough for the buyers to hear. The lien would stay on the house until the debt was paid in full, along with the late fees and filing costs written into the contract they signed in June. Nobody could buy the lake house, and no bank would finance it, until that happened. The buyers quietly walked back to their car. “You told him to sue you,” Ed said. “He didn’t need to.”