dollars for a marriage license and ten dollars for a death certificate. I turned to Bonnie. “This reminds me, before I left for maternity leave, I thought I had ordered more safety paper for the vital records. Did that ever come in?”
“I thought it did. Did you check the birth certificate drawer?”
“I did, but I only saw one package. Did you use up the whole other package?”
Bonnie said she couldn’t remember, but she would look into the sequential numbers on the paper when she had time.
I didn’t know how we would figure out if any other records were missing. Since I was considered the custodian of records, there are thousands of files in my office. If I discovered that documents were missing, I could recreate the ones that were saved on the network, but for the rest, I wouldn’t know where to start.
Later that day, I gave an update to Tex. It indicated that we were missing two hundred thirty-eight dollars in cash, our receipt books, and possibly a package of safety paper. In addition, the computer was destroyed, there was damage to the door and one file cabinet, and I couldn’t tell if other records were taken.
“Safety paper?” he asked with a goofy grin on his face. “What the heck is that? Is that the paper that keeps you safe from intruders? If so, it didn’t work.”
Sarcastically, I responded, “Ha. Ha. Don’t quit your day job to become a comedian just yet.”
I explained that safety paper is the paper we use to issue vital records—birth, marriage, death, civil union, or domestic partnership certificates. He seemed interested when I explained what they were. I told him that I wasn’t actually sure that the safety paper was missing and if it was, I wasn’t one hundred percent positive that it wasn’t missing before this break-in.
“Are you sure of anything?” he asked.
“I’m sure you can lay off the donuts a tad. I should start calling you ‘Chubby’ instead of ‘Tex.’”
“Oh, bring it on, sister. You sure you wanna go there? You really want me to tell you that you need to take off that extra baby weight?”
“Hey! At least I have a reason that I gained weight. What is your reason? That Donut Palace is open twenty-four hours?”
“All right. Touché . I’m outta here, if you think of anything else that’s missing or any other details, let me know. I’ll let you know if we find any fingerprints.”
A couple of hours later, the office was cleaned up and we were back in business. Bonnie came in to tell me she had tried to research the numbers on the safety paper. She said that she remembered she had opened a pack of paper in December. I remembered that too, because I always place an order for more whenever we open a pack. The ream of paper that was currently in the drawer was the new pack that I had ordered. Bonnie hadn’t remembered to order more paper while I was out on leave. Since the receipt books were missing, she couldn’t tell how many certified copies she had issued while I was out.
“Wait! You really think you issued over five hundred copies while I was gone? That’s an awful lot,” I told her.
We didn’t have a hospital and we didn’t have a funeral home in Sunshine. The only time someone ordered a birth certificate is when a baby accidentally popped out in the toilet like on an episode of I Didn’t Know I was Pregnant and that’s not very often. Maybe once a year at most. Most death certificates were obtained by the funeral home in the town where they are located, so we issued very few deaths.
“How many marriage and civil union licenses did you have so far this year?” I asked.
Bonnie took out the log for applications. She told me she issued twenty-seven licenses. I didn’t think that twenty-seven couples would have ordered fifteen to twenty certified copies each. It occurred to me that the finance department would have a copy of our daily deposits as well as the bank records and probably a list of internal account activity. I was about to
“I thought it did. Did you check the birth certificate drawer?”
“I did, but I only saw one package. Did you use up the whole other package?”
Bonnie said she couldn’t remember, but she would look into the sequential numbers on the paper when she had time.
I didn’t know how we would figure out if any other records were missing. Since I was considered the custodian of records, there are thousands of files in my office. If I discovered that documents were missing, I could recreate the ones that were saved on the network, but for the rest, I wouldn’t know where to start.
Later that day, I gave an update to Tex. It indicated that we were missing two hundred thirty-eight dollars in cash, our receipt books, and possibly a package of safety paper. In addition, the computer was destroyed, there was damage to the door and one file cabinet, and I couldn’t tell if other records were taken.
“Safety paper?” he asked with a goofy grin on his face. “What the heck is that? Is that the paper that keeps you safe from intruders? If so, it didn’t work.”
Sarcastically, I responded, “Ha. Ha. Don’t quit your day job to become a comedian just yet.”
I explained that safety paper is the paper we use to issue vital records—birth, marriage, death, civil union, or domestic partnership certificates. He seemed interested when I explained what they were. I told him that I wasn’t actually sure that the safety paper was missing and if it was, I wasn’t one hundred percent positive that it wasn’t missing before this break-in.
“Are you sure of anything?” he asked.
“I’m sure you can lay off the donuts a tad. I should start calling you ‘Chubby’ instead of ‘Tex.’”
“Oh, bring it on, sister. You sure you wanna go there? You really want me to tell you that you need to take off that extra baby weight?”
“Hey! At least I have a reason that I gained weight. What is your reason? That Donut Palace is open twenty-four hours?”
“All right. Touché . I’m outta here, if you think of anything else that’s missing or any other details, let me know. I’ll let you know if we find any fingerprints.”
A couple of hours later, the office was cleaned up and we were back in business. Bonnie came in to tell me she had tried to research the numbers on the safety paper. She said that she remembered she had opened a pack of paper in December. I remembered that too, because I always place an order for more whenever we open a pack. The ream of paper that was currently in the drawer was the new pack that I had ordered. Bonnie hadn’t remembered to order more paper while I was out on leave. Since the receipt books were missing, she couldn’t tell how many certified copies she had issued while I was out.
“Wait! You really think you issued over five hundred copies while I was gone? That’s an awful lot,” I told her.
We didn’t have a hospital and we didn’t have a funeral home in Sunshine. The only time someone ordered a birth certificate is when a baby accidentally popped out in the toilet like on an episode of I Didn’t Know I was Pregnant and that’s not very often. Maybe once a year at most. Most death certificates were obtained by the funeral home in the town where they are located, so we issued very few deaths.
“How many marriage and civil union licenses did you have so far this year?” I asked.
Bonnie took out the log for applications. She told me she issued twenty-seven licenses. I didn’t think that twenty-seven couples would have ordered fifteen to twenty certified copies each. It occurred to me that the finance department would have a copy of our daily deposits as well as the bank records and probably a list of internal account activity. I was about to
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