Page 114 of Sterling Heat

“Then get out,” I snap, my anger at full scale, as I straighten.

“I need to tell you something.” Barnett isn’t a nervous kid. He never gives me pause other than calling in sick the other day, so when he closes the door behind him, I’m the anxious one.

“Are you going to quit?” Shit. I can’t lose him.

I haven’t decided how to handle Enya’s suspicions about Rena, and I’m going to lose Rena once I question her. You can’t accuse someone of something without proof, and I don’t have any. If I value trust between Rena and me, I’m going to blow that trust by calling her out about the money.

Then again, if I trust Enya, which I do implicitly, her word is gold. And something inside me tells me Enya isn’t wrong. Rena is the link to the cash-drawer shortages.

And all of this isn’t something I can think about right now, if my number two employee is about to quit.

“Uhm. No, but this is important.”

Fuck. I turn my head then glance back at the teen. “Out with it.”

He rolls his ankles, flipping his feet so he stands on the sides of them and then curls them back. “So remember when I asked for a raise last summer.”

Not this again. My jaw clenches. “Yes.” He’d asked for a raise, but I hadn’t given it to him. I’d hired Rena instead, needing a full-time employee because he was only summer help and part-time during the school year.

“I needed the money for Bernadette.”

His aunt? “For what?”

“She needed medication which her insurance wouldn’t cover.”

I stare at him, slowly seeing myself in him. Young, eager to help family. “And?”

“Rena felt sorry for me.”

Fuck.

“She gave me money. Said it was tips from the tip jar.”

We don’t collect many cash tips. Most people pay by credit card and post tips electronically.

Okay, it’s fine if Rena gave him the small change we don’t document. “So?”

“She’s been doing it for a while now and I never questioned it. Just figured you must have approved it since she was the manager.”

“I’m the manager.” I sit up straighter. The owner and sole member of the corporation Judd had me form when I opened the bakery.

Barnett nods. “Anyway, I overheard her talking to a customer about a big score.”

My eyes narrow at Barnett while my heart catches in my throat. “And?”

Barnett hangs his head. “She caught me listening and told me she’d cut me in if I didn’t tell anyone about it. Then she pulled a twenty from the cash drawer. Told me there was more where that came from if I kept quiet.”

“She what?” My hands slam on the top of my desk.

“Watching her take money from the drawer had me thinking, maybe the money wasn’t really coming from the tip jar, but you. The bakery.” He waves around my office. “And now I see I made a huge mistake in taking anything from her in the first place.”

Barnett reaches into his pocket and lays the twenty on my desk. “I swear I’ll pay back the rest. And if you fire me, I understand.” He hangs his head and swipes a finger underneath his nose.

Shit. Is he crying? Slowly, I reach for the twenty and place it in my desk drawer. “How much did she give you over time? Do you know? Did you add it up?”

“She gave me small stuff at first and then when she caught me listening, she promised me five-hundred dollars to keep my mouth shut.”

“Five-hundred—” I recall telling Enya how hundreds and thousands made every penny for a dollar if someone was poor, or . . . “Are you doing drugs?”