Part 5: The Cracked Glass
Gloria came to my office on Tuesday without being asked. She sat across from my desk with her purse in her lap and didn’t take her coat off.
Two years ago, her daughter needed spinal surgery. Insurance covered most of it, but not $9,000. Dolores lent her the money “like family.” Then, last spring, Dolores started calling it in. Not with paperwork. With hints. With reminders of how easy it would be to tell me Gloria had been stealing.
“She told me the boy was fine,” Gloria said. “She said not to come back that week, that Colleen had arranged everything. And on Saturday she told me Curtis needed to pick up some boxes. I gave him the code.” She looked at her hands. “I saw Colleen put the medallion in a blue pouch, Russell. Last year. I never told you.”
“You held him the day he was born,” I said.
