So it turns out my Dad had two bank accounts—the one in California, and another one in Nevada. There were no issues getting the Nevada bank to cut a check for the whopping $100 remaining in the account (I'm rich! I'm rich I tell ya!), unlike the California bank. There was filling out the affidavit and the shenannigans required to get it notarized (I did not realize there were multiple levels of notarization—go figure) and sending it back along with the death certificate.
The California bank then sent the check via certified mail—we missed the initial delivery. Bunny can deal with the bureaucracy better than I, so when she went to the post office to pick it up, they couldn't find it. That was yesterday.
Today the post office called her to say they found the letter, so after work we went to pick it up and find out if all this trouble was worth the $45.71. We're in the car and I open up the letter.
“Wait! They didn't send the check! There's no check here!” I said, looking through a thick packet of papers.
“It's right here,” said Bunny, holding up a check. “How could you have missed it? It was right here in the envelope.”
“But … it's made out to your Dad,” she said. “And they included a page from a loan made to somebody else …”
Passersby were amused to see me honking the car horn with my head.