Douglas’s face drained of color when his mother calmly asked, “Where did the other seven thousand dollars go?” The receptionist quietly disappeared into the back room while she pulled a folded document from her basket. Doris’s nephew at the motor vehicle office had found the sale record the previous evening. A man from Dubuque had paid eleven thousand dollars for her Buick. Douglas had handed his mother a check for only thirty-eight hundred.

His hand began trembling against his tie. “Mom, please, not out here,” he whispered. But she kept her thumb resting firmly on the little bell attached to her basket. She had already realized this was about more than her missing money. At her birthday dinner, Mrs. Hendricks had mentioned something strange: her homeowners insurance had mysteriously lapsed despite every payment being made. Douglas sold insurance to half the town. His mother stared directly at him. “Tell me about the Hendricks account.”

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