week.”
He handed it to Dad.
Inside was a bank statement.
Then another.
Then a cashier’s check.
Twenty-four thousand dollars.
Payable to Manuel and Carmen Ruiz.
Dad stared at it.
“I was short four thousand,” Derek said. “I expected another client payment Friday.”
I looked at him.
“You were paying it back?”
“Yes.”
“Without telling them you took it?”
His jaw tightened.
“Yes.”
“That’s not repayment, Derek. That’s covering tracks.”
“I know.”
His voice was quieter.
“I know that now.”
Dad did not say anything.
Then I noticed a framed
