I leaned back.
“There’s something I need to ask you.”
Her smile disappeared.
“Were you at the gym Tuesday night?”
She looked at me sharply.
“How do you know?”
“Security camera.”
Her hand tightened around the blanket.
Ellen turned.
“Marcy?”
Marcy stared at the wall.
Then she said, “I wasn’t going to tell you.”
“Tell us what?”
She took a long breath.
“I think Dustin has been stealing money from the gym.”
That was not what I expected.
Ellen frowned.
“How would you know that?”
Marcy worked in billing at the dental office.
Numbers made sense to her in ways they never had to me.
She could look at a statement and notice a three-dollar discrepancy from six months earlier.
“I helped him with his taxes last spring,” she said. “He had receipts everywhere. Deposits, sponsorship checks, cash payments. Nothing matched.”
“Why were you helping with his taxes?”
