Seven Empty Deposit Envelopes Showed What Was Happening At Carters Diner
Troy and Megan were watching him from the other end of the counter, their faces clean of any expression but a quiet, sharp curiosity.
The squeak of the damp green rag on laminate was loud in the empty dining room as Megan wiped down the counter.
“Did he find the missing fifty dollars, Henry?” Troy asked, his tone mocking and overly familiar.
“We were telling him you probably just made a mistake with the keys.”
“I did not touch the machine, Troy,” Henry said, his fingers working at the knot of his apron strings.
“You know I do not know how to log into the register.”
“Well, the computer has your name on it,” Megan said, her voice fast as she slid a fresh stack of napkins into the metal dispenser.
“And the drawer doesn’t lie about who opened it.”
Carter watched Troy roll his silver quarter across his knuckles, the metal clicking softly against his heavy ring.
“Don’t worry about it, old-timer,” Troy said, leaning his elbow on the cash drawer.
“Maybe they will let you back after the audit if you promise to keep your hands off the screen.”
