Seven Empty Deposit Envelopes Showed What Was Happening At Carters Diner
The woman looked up, her wrinkled face softening into a grateful smile.
“Thank you, dear,” the woman said. “The floors are a little sticky today.”
“We will get that scrubbed right away,” Megan said, holding the heavy glass door open for her.
Troy watched the entire interaction from the register, nodding his approval as Megan walked back to the counter. Carter saw Troy give Megan a brief, single nod, a silent signal that passed between them in less than a second.
Megan slid onto the stool next to Carter, pulling a fresh order pad from her apron pocket. She did not look at Carter’s face, treating him like any other retired laborer who spent too much time lingering over a single drink.
“Can I get you anything else, sir?” Megan asked.
“Just some more water, miss,” Carter said, keeping his gravelly voice down to a quiet murmur.
“You got it,” she said, her tone light and friendly.
She turned to fill the glass, and Carter looked back toward the register. Troy was already ringing up a customer’s ticket, his fingers moving across the keys with an unusual, deliberate slow speed. He was not rushing the process, nor was he looking over his shoulder toward the office.
