The emergency cash tucked inside a hollowed-out book in the library.
Gail’s first brush with the underworld came not in a smoky back‑room poker den, but at a Saturday morning craft fair in downtown Willowbrook. While arranging a table of homemade play‑dough, she spotted a vintage silver locket glinting among the knick‑knacks. The locket, later identified as a 1920s heirloom belonging to the town’s founding family, vanished that night, and the police found a single fingerprint—Gail’s.
Judge Higgins was unmoved. “Ms. Bates,” the judge said during sentencing, “you didn’t sleepwalk your way into opening a fraudulent Chase credit card. You preyed on kindness. You weaponized vulnerability. The only thing you’re addicted to is cruelty.”