Chapter 4 - THE SECOND LEDGER
The key opened a metal cabinet in the basement.
David tried to stop us from going downstairs.
His lawyer stopped him first.
“Do not make this worse.”
David whispered something ugly.
Mom covered my ears.
She was too late.
I had heard worse words in traffic.
Vincent told one of his men to stay upstairs with us.
Mom refused.
“If my name is in those books, I’m going.”
So we went downstairs.
The basement smelled like onions, old cardboard, and detergent.
Walter led Elena to a storage room behind the freezer.
There was a gray cabinet bolted to the wall.
The silver key fit.
Inside were three black notebooks.
Elena opened the first one.
Every page contained names.
Hours.
Amounts.
And symbols.
Mom’s name appeared on page forty-two.
CARTER, CLAIRE.
5,430.30.
Beside it was the letter H.
“What does H mean?” Mom asked.
Walter stared at David.
“He’ll tell you.”
David looked away.
Walter answered for him.
“Hold.”
Elena turned several pages.
Dozens of names had the same letter.
“What about this?”
She pointed to an R.
“Reduced.”
“And T?”
“Tips.”
Elena’s jaw tightened.
She kept turning pages.
Some employees had lost twenty dollars.
Some had lost thousands.
Others had been charged imaginary penalties.
David used the money to cover restaurant debts.
Then personal debts.
Then vacations.
Cars.
Private club memberships.
A condominium downtown.
Mom stared at the ledger.
“You were keeping track.”
David finally spoke.
“It was temporary.”
Walter laughed.
“You’ve been saying temporary for six years.”
David glared at him.
“You should remember who gave you a job.”
Walter’s face hardened.
“My wife died while I was working a double shift because you said you couldn’t afford another dishwasher.”
The room became silent.
Walter continued.
“You owed me six weeks of overtime when she died.”
David looked toward the stairs.
“I’m done with this.”
Vincent blocked his path.
“No.”
He picked up the second ledger.
“You’re just getting started.”
Elena photographed every page.
Crowe stood in the corner looking like a man reconsidering his entire career.
Then Mom noticed something.
“Wait.”
She pointed toward a name.
DANIEL CARTER.
I knew that name.
It was my father’s.
Mom grabbed the ledger.
Her face changed so quickly that I became frightened.
“What is this?”
The entry was dated five years earlier.
Before my father died.
Daniel Carter had worked as a bookkeeper for Sterling’s Bistro.
Mom had told me he left because he got sick.
But the ledger showed something different.
Beside his name were three words.
COPIED PAYROLL FILES.
Below that was another note.
TERMINATED.
Mom looked at David.
“You told me Daniel quit.”
David didn’t answer.
“You told me he walked out.”
Still nothing.
Mom’s voice broke.
“What did he find?”
Vincent slowly took the ledger from her.
Tucked between two pages was an old envelope.
On the front, someone had written a name.
CLAIRE.
Mom recognized the handwriting immediately.
Her knees nearly gave out.
“That’s Daniel’s.”
May you like
Inside was a single sentence.
If anything happens to me, David knows why.
