Seven Empty Deposit Envelopes Showed What Was Happening At Carters Diner
“Whose code is it?” Carter asked.
“One-zero-four,” Linda said. “That is Henry Lawson’s employee number.”
Carter stared at the screen, his thumb brushing his gold ring. He knew Henry’s quiet face, the way the old man scrubbed the corners of the chili pots until his shoulders ached. He knew Henry could barely navigate the digital screen to clock in at the start of his shift.
“Henry does not even know how to void a cup of coffee,” Carter said.
“The server does not care what Henry knows,” Linda said, her voice tightening as she looked at Carter. “It only records the keypress. Fifty-two separate transactions were deleted under his login last month alone.”
“Someone is using his terminal while he is away from the counter,” Carter said.
“We have to report this to the insurance auditors, Carter,” Linda said, reaching for her phone. “If we do not file the loss report by Friday, they will deny the claim for the quarterly shortage.”
“Do not call them yet,” Carter said. “If the corporate office gets involved now, they will suspend everyone on the schedule.”
