Seven Empty Deposit Envelopes Showed What Was Happening At Carters Diner
A young man named David, Linda said. He was the assistant cook at the nursing home, so he knows how to get things out on time.
She tapped the edge of the folder against the truck’s hood, the cardboard making a soft thud.
Troy’s father called my office at six this morning, she said.
Carter adjusted the gold wedding band on his finger, moving it up and down against his knuckle.
What did he want? Carter asked.
He wanted to thank you for not calling the sheriff, Linda said. He said the first fifty-dollar payment will be in the mail by Friday afternoon.
Megan’s mother called too, she added. She was crying, but she signed the agreement.
Let them pay it back slowly, Carter said. Two hundred dollars a month until the four thousand eight hundred is clear.
They are young enough to learn from it without a record, he added.
Linda opened the folder and looked at a sheet of white paper.
The auditor finished the final Springfield report, she said. The store is showing a positive margin for the first time since August.
