Six Years After the Lake Trip, One Blue Envelope Upended Everything Clara Believed

Vance looked at me over his glasses.

“Clara, if we file a formal request without the original vault slips, the bank president will tell Dean before the sun goes down today.”

“Let him tell Dean,” I said.

“Dean thinks you’re just a retired neighbor who sits on the town park board.”

“He has no idea I’ve been holding Daniel’s audit file for six years,” Vance said.

“No,” I said.

“He thinks he took the only paper copy right out of my hands at the lake shed last night.”