Chapter 12: Every Dollar

The conference room at the yard held thirty chairs, and every one was full.

The rest of the crew stood along the back wall in work boots with their hats in their hands.

Dean sat at the long table with his arms folded.

Constance sat at its head, in the chair with the arms.

Lydia sat at the far end with her eyes on her lap.

One empty chair stood at the opposite end of the room, beyond the whiteboard.

I knew it by the cushion.

It was my father's wooden chair from the old office.

Somebody had carried it down the iron steps and set it there.

I looked at Clark.

He shook his head, very slightly.

It was not him.

I looked at the old foreman by the door, and he gave me the smallest nod.

I walked the length of the room with the binder against my chest.

Every head turned to follow me.

I sat down in my father's chair.

"Good morning," Constance said, in the voice she used for the church choir. "Thank you all for coming on short notice."

She folded her hands.

"As some of you know, a family matter has become public."

She smiled down the table at me.

"My daughter-in-law has left her husband, and she has come to the company with accusations."

She tilted her head.

"Katherine signed a management agreement after her father passed. Perhaps she'd like to explain to the men why she is here."

Nobody breathed.

I opened the blue binder on the table.

I turned it around so the front page faced the room.

"This is the real set of books for Brandt Supply Company," I said.

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