Seven Empty Deposit Envelopes Showed What Was Happening At Carters Diner
The numbers in the center of the check were written in black ink, four thousand eight hundred dollars, with the notation for the account of Martha Lawson written on the bottom line.
Henry stared at the green paper, his lips parting slightly, but no sound came out of his throat.
“That’s the rest of her bill,” Carter said, keeping his voice quiet and gravelly. “The entire balance is paid.”
“I don’t understand,” Henry said, his formal voice shaking as he looked from the check to Carter’s face. “This is nearly five thousand dollars, Carter.”
“It’s exactly forty-eight hundred,” Carter said. “The exact amount Troy and Megan took from this building over the last three months.”
“But that money was stolen from you,” Henry said.
“They are going to pay it back to the company,” Carter said. “But this check is from my personal account.”
Henry’s hand began to rise, his fingers hovering over the bank draft as if he were afraid it would disappear if he touched it.
“I can’t take this from you,” Henry said, his back stiffening as he tried to sit up straighter on the stool. “I’m a dishwasher, Carter. I work for my keep.”
