Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
They found Eddie in the maintenance office, sitting at his desk with his head in his hands.
When he saw them, he looked like a man who’d been waiting for judgment.
“Eddie,” Nans said gently. “We need you to tell us the truth.”
Eddie’s shoulders sagged. “I didn’t kill him.”
“We have video footage. Stanley arrived at five-fifteen. He was the first person in the building.”
Eddie’s eyes widened. “You saw him?”
“We saw someone. We think it was Stanley.”
Eddie swallowed. “It was. I saw his truck in the lot when I came back in from salting.”
“What happened when you went inside?”
Eddie’s hands trembled. “I saw him laying there. He was dead.”
“And?”
Eddie’s voice cracked. “And I panicked.”
“Why?”
“Because the lockbox was on the floor. Smashed open. Papers everywhere. Cash scattered. And I knew—I knew—everyone would think I did it.”
Nans’ voice was calm. “Did you?”
“No! But Stanley spent the last week accusing me. Telling people I was careless. That I’d stolen from the toy drive last year. I have gambling debts—people know that. They already think the worst of me.”
“So what did you do?”
Eddie’s eyes filled with tears. “I grabbed everything. All the papers, the cash, the receipts. There was a sparkly craft bag in the corner. I shoved everything into it and shoved that inside my jacket.” He brushed a speck of glitter off his pants. “Glitter gets everywhere.”
Helen’s hand flew to her mouth. “Eddie.”
“I know! I know it was wrong. But I thought if I could just look through it first, maybe I could prove I didn’t take anything. Or maybe prove who did.”
“Where is it now?”
Eddie stood shakily and walked to a utility closet. He pulled out a glittery craft tote and set it on the desk.
Inside were crumpled papers, cash, and a small ledger.
Ruth leaned in. “Is that the toy drive logbook?”
Eddie nodded miserably. “Everything Stanley kept locked up.”
Nans opened the ledger carefully. Her eyes scanned the pages, then stopped.
“Oh, Stanley.”
“What?”
Nans turned the book so they could see. “The missing money from last year. Stanley took it.”
Silence.
“Stanley stole from the toy drive?”
Nans pointed to entries in Stanley’s handwriting. Cash withdrawals labeled “supplies” and “emergency expenses” that didn’t match any receipts.
“He was skimming. Small amounts over time. And when people started asking questions, he blamed Eddie. And Elaine. And probably others.”
Eddie’s face crumpled. “I didn’t take anything.”
“We know. The proof is right here.”
Ruth’s voice was quiet. “So Stanley died trying to hide his own crimes.”
“He climbed the shelf to get the lockbox because he knew people were asking questions. The shelf he was supposed to fix collapsed under his weight.”
“And Eddie made it look like a cover-up by taking the evidence.”
Eddie buried his face in his hands. “I’m so sorry.”
Nans’ voice softened just a touch. “Jack needs to see this. All of it.”