How a Fourteen-Dollar Yellow Baby Blanket Brought Down a Regional Director
The metal clasp at the top was undone, and three sheets of heavy cardstock slid halfway out into the morning light.
“Leave that right where it is,” David whispered.
His voice dropped into that quiet, flat tone he used when he wanted me to freeze.
I didn’t let go of the paper.
Across the top line of the first page, bold black letters read State of Wisconsin Circuit Court for Brown County, followed by a formal restitution notice.
“It dropped out of your coat,” I said.
He snatched the manila envelope out of my hand and jammed the folded pages back inside with his thumb.
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