Seven Empty Deposit Envelopes Showed What Was Happening At Carters Diner
Megan was leaning over the counter, tapping the register screen with a plastic pen while her other hand reached into the drawer.
“We were training,” Megan said, her speech speeding up until her words ran together. “We were showing Henry how to clear the screen when it freezes.”
“You did not use your own manager code to authorize those voids, Troy,” Carter said. “You used Henry’s code while he was out of the room.”
Troy stood up, his chair scraping against the wall.
“This is a joke,” Troy said. “You can’t prove who was logged into the system based on a fuzzy camera angle.”
“The angle is forty-eight megapixels, Troy,” Linda said. “I can see the mole on your wrist.”
Mr. Henderson turned a new sheet of paper over on his desk.
“The total discrepancy across the six-week period is precisely four thousand eight hundred dollars,” Henderson said.
The number hung in the small office, cold and heavy.
“Four thousand eight hundred,” Carter repeated. “Just two hundred dollars short of a Class Three felony in this state.”
Troy did not answer.
“Let’s go look at the drawer,” Carter said.
