Seven Empty Deposit Envelopes Showed What Was Happening At Carters Diner
He turned and walked out of the office, his leather shoes clicking on the corridor floor.
Linda and Henderson followed, with Troy and Megan walking slowly behind them like two kids headed to the principal’s office.
The dining room was empty, the chairs still stacked on top of the laminate tables for the morning cleaning.
The air smelled of toasted rye from the kitchen where the grill was warming up.
At the front counter, the register sat under the low-hanging copper light fixtures.
“Open the register, Troy,” Carter said.
“The system is locked,” Troy said, his arms crossed over his chest. “You need the master key to override the morning drawer before nine o’clock.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small brass register key, holding it up.
“I don’t have the code for it,” Troy said.
“You have the brass override key,” Carter said. “The one you keep in your pocket.”
Troy hesitated, then stepped behind the counter.
He slid the brass key into the stiff lock on the side of the register and turned it with a sharp twist.
