Authors: Cindy Woodsmall
“Have you been checking the browsing history on my computer?”
“No, I wouldn’t do that and don’t even know how.” Nervous sweat trickled down her back. “Did you only know her as Jojo?”
Bob set the plates in his hands on the table with the other ones. “What is she talking about, Camilla?”
Her face turned ashen. “I … need some water, Bob. Would you mind?”
He left the room, and Camilla eased onto the couch, staring up at Rhoda. “What you say is true. But I didn’t want Bob to know I’m trying to find Jojo.”
“Maybe only your son called her that. It’s short for Joella, Joella Dumont, and I … I think you have a granddaughter.”
Pain etched Camilla’s face. “No, Rhoda. Zachary was too young to marry without a parent’s consent. And there is no chance I might have a grandchild.” Tears welled. “Trust me. You’re wrong on both accounts.”
Bob returned with a glass of water. “Is everything okay?”
Camilla nodded. “We’re fine. Rhoda was mistaken. That’s all.”
Rhoda trusted that Camilla fully believed there was no chance her son had married or that she had a grandchild, but she felt more convinced than ever that Camilla was the one who was mistaken.
Rhoda wished her gift had told her more—something concrete she could share with Camilla to confirm she was right and to encourage Camilla to look for Jojo and her daughter.
But for now Rhoda had pushed as hard as she dared. Any more pressure
on Camilla, and Rhoda might put a wedge between herself and the Cranfords. It seemed the best thing she could do now was wait and hope she received more insight into the little girl.
Rhoda picked up the two plates from the coffee table and passed one to Samuel. “This looks delicious.”
THIRTEEN
Jacob sat in the lawyer’s office, squeezing his fists. His hands shook as he tried to contain his anger while Sandra answered Craig Ryer’s questions. She’d driven to the farm to get him early that morning, and yet even knowing they were coming here, she hadn’t said a word about any of this. The calendar on Craig’s desk said it was April 24. Jacob should be helping Rhoda in the orchard. Instead, he was gritting his teeth as Sandra tried to justify her actions to Craig.
Just the other night, after he had dropped off Rhoda at the Cranfords’, he’d found an isolated place to park the rig, and he’d stayed there a long, long time, thinking and crying out to God to help him find his way.
When he had chosen to help the company in its unethical and illegal activities, he had done more than disregard his conscience. He had decided he could handle life on his own terms. Later, when he realized his error in judgment and realized he needed God, dishonor kept Jacob from turning to Him. Shame and guilt were wicked taskmasters, filling his mind with lies. His ego and fear of being seen in a poor light by others had kept him chained. When Jacob had prayed Sunday night, he shook as the walls around him fell.
Now he sat here, determined to give to Sandra what God had given to him—true and complete forgiveness without walking away.
“So,”—Craig tapped his pen on the notepad—“when you worked as a secretary for Jones’ Construction, did your responsibilities include placing orders?”
Sandra answered, explaining her duties and how she performed them. It’d taken a while for Craig to get her to open up.
Why hadn’t she told him all this when Blaine disappeared? Some part of this didn’t add up. But what?
Sandra chewed on a thumbnail. “What happens when you know the whole story?”
Craig had stacks of papers on his desk that he’d flip through occasionally and pull out something to talk to her about, but for the most part he only took notes while she talked. He’d done a lot of research since Jacob’s last visit, and a lawyer in Virginia had sent PDF files and faxed a number of documents to him.
“We look at all the options.” Craig took a sip from the mug on his desk. “This mess is like a pile of spaghetti, but I’m determined to get to the bottom of it. Do you have any copies of order forms signed by you or your husband?”
Sandra turned toward Jacob, trembling.
He nodded. “It’s okay. I trust him.”
She had no confidence in this man, but she was doing as Jacob asked. She removed a folded, tattered manila envelope from her purse and passed it to Craig. The lawyer opened it and reviewed the contents.
He picked up the papers Jacob and Sandra had signed earlier and stood up. “I need to consult a colleague for a few minutes.”
“Sure.”
Sandra tucked some hair behind one ear. “He could be notifying the police right now.”
Well, at least she hadn’t been lying to him all these years about thinking a lawyer would turn them in. She honestly believed that’s how lawyers operated. He found that a bit comforting.
Jacob stood.
“Where are you going?” Her voice wavered as she grabbed his arm. There was no convincing her that he wouldn’t abandon her, but the temptation right now to do just that and not look back was almost irresistible. He wasn’t sure how he could stand by her.
“To get my bottle of water.” He pointed to a table behind them.
She released his arm. Her insecurities wearied him, and yet, even though his family had always been there for him, always cherished him, he understood that kind of anxiety all too well. Didn’t every human? Each one was so frail and needy, so dependent on others.
He picked up his water and moved to a window. The parking lot was directly below. A little farther out was a busy intersection, roads and traffic lights, and a multitude of people with goals and destinations. Were any of them as off-center with their lives as he’d been?
His thoughts moved to Rhoda. They were never far from her. If it weren’t for her, he might still be running. But if she learned the full truth about him, would she walk away? He didn’t think so. It might cause a few rough weeks, but she wasn’t one to give up easily on a struggling plant. He loved that about her.
Actually, he loved everything about her.
His behavior after he’d learned Samuel had kissed her and she’d tried to cover for him was ridiculous. If that hadn’t destroyed them, surely finding out the rest of his secret wouldn’t undo them.
Craig returned, a magnifying glass in his hand. “Ms. McAlister, were you aware that the signatures on the order forms don’t match Jacob’s?”
She fidgeted with her hair and ran her fingers over her lips. “I could use a cigarette.”
Jacob recalled his first meeting with Craig Ryer in this office. After Jacob had told his story, Craig speculated that Sandra had been lying to him, tricking him from the beginning. Now they had proof. But Jacob
had
signed those order forms, hadn’t he? He sat down and fought to keep his voice even. “Answer the question, Sandra.”
“How could they be his? He only signed for an order twice, and even then he didn’t have the authority to do so.”
The lawyer turned to another paper. “Are you aware that your name on these papers doesn’t match
your
signature?”
“What?” She held out her hand, and he gave them to her.
“But I worked as the secretary at times. I did sign them.” She pulled the papers closer. “Well,” she said a moment later, “clearly I didn’t sign these. But I signed some just like them.”
“Your husband gave you those copies just before he disappeared, saying they matched the ones on record in the office, right?”
“Yes.”
“But you never looked at them?”
“I glanced at them before I filed them away for safekeeping and started treading water to cope with what was happening. A few days later Jacob helped me pack up and move. I haven’t looked at them since then. Our whole world was coming down around us. Who would’ve signed them?”
“I don’t know. I suspect someone who didn’t intend for you to pay for his crimes. It appears that whatever you did sign was never used to order goods through other companies.”
She gaped at the man, unable to move. “Blaine? He … he tried to protect me?” Sandra was shaking from her hands to her feet.
“These are forgeries of your handwriting. Did you purchase subpar materials and sign for them?”
“I … I did as Blaine told me to. I signed whatever he said. I’m confused. Does this mean I didn’t break the law?”
“There are three trials coming up. Two are civil suits in the wrongful deaths of the two women who died when the deck collapsed. Since neither of you signed these forms, neither of you have any legal liability in the cause of those women’s deaths—”
Jacob dropped his water bottle, sending the clear liquid across the tiled floor. “None?”
“In their deaths, no.”
Stunned, Jacob couldn’t budge. Despite needing to clean up the spill, he watched as drips of water fell from the mouth of the bottle into the puddle on the tile floor. It looked just like his life: drained and pouring out the last drops for no apparent purpose. He grabbed some napkins off the serving table and mopped up the mess. When he sat down again, Craig looked up from his notes.
“As you know, I’ve been in contact with a Virginia lawyer who’s been involved in this case. As I said when we spoke by phone two weeks ago, the owner of the construction company is in prison.”
Jacob cleared his throat. “I don’t understand why I never saw it in the paper. I’ve been looking for any news about Skeet Jones and the company since the incident with the deck.”
“You probably didn’t see anything about it because there were so many
other criminal cases taking up space in all the papers when the housing bubble burst. Small business misconduct made only the local news.”
“But why is Skeet in prison? I’m the one who devised the borrowing scheme before I realized it was illegal.”
“Your pirating from one job site to give to the next was not the real problem for several reasons. Your very detailed plan, which, by the way, was remarkable, was meant to give the homebuyers what they’d paid for, right?”
“Ya, but no matter how meticulous I was with the math and supplies, we kept getting more and more behind.”
“Skeet and Blaine were embezzling from the company. This is where your liability comes in, Jacob. When you realized Blaine was using funds to gamble, you should’ve taken the situation to the authorities. By trying to cover for Blaine, even though your aim was to dig the company out of the hole he’d dug, you became an accomplice.”
“But you just said—”
“That you have no liability in the deaths of the women, and you don’t. However, your liability regarding the embezzlement of funds from the construction company isn’t as clear-cut. But I believe we can make a deal.”
Jacob drummed his palms against the ends of the armrests. “What does that mean?”
“Even though Skeet is in prison now, within the next year he’s going to trial again, on an appeal. The district attorney wants your testimonies. Jones defrauded a lot of people and made huge profits. He was found guilty of involuntary manslaughter, fraud, and racketeering, among other things.” Craig tapped his pen on a stack of papers. “Do you know where your husband is, Sandra?”
“My guess is he’s on a beach in Mexico. When the two women died, he said an investigation into why the deck fell would uncover all the shenanigans inside Jones’ Construction, so Blaine disappeared that day. I’ve not seen or heard from him since.”
“He was right about what the investigation into the deaths brought to light.” Craig leaned back in his chair. “Jacob, I did as we discussed and contacted the district attorney. After I told him your side of the events and sent him
all the information I’d gathered, he feels you’re a witness to more than you realize. And if you’ll testify, he’ll give you immunity, which means that whether you’ve broken any laws or not, you can never be held accountable for those actions.”
Jacob leaned forward. “He simply agreed to it over the phone?”
Craig pulled out a book. “There are no set rules concerning how a district attorney handles a situation like this. It’s a judgment call the DA is free to make. He could have insisted on meeting you face to face before deciding, but he didn’t. If you’ll agree to testify, you have immunity.”
Relief washed over Jacob.
Immunity
. What a beautiful word. But even as he rejoiced over the news, he wondered how long he would be gone from the farm while testifying.
Craig laid the book on his desk. “He didn’t ask about Sandra, and I didn’t bring her into the conversation, but I’m sure I can get the same deal for her if she’s willing for me to talk to the DA about her.” He flipped through the book. “This is a deposition. It’s the typed testimony where a lawyer asks questions and the witness answers. It’s what you’ll need to give in the privacy of an office. You’ll take an oath, and it’s paramount you tell the complete truth. I don’t have a license to practice in Virginia, but if you want to have a lawyer present, I can find one for both of you.”
“No.” Sandra bolted to her feet. “I can’t go back to Virginia.” She turned to Jacob. “Please, I can’t. That would be too dangerous for me.”
Craig gestured for her to sit. “There’s some missing information here that keeps me from understanding why you’re so skittish and why you’ve been lying to Jacob all this time. Are you going to tell us what it is? Why you feel you can’t go back?”
She grabbed the wooden armrests of her chair with a death grip. “You won’t believe me.”
Craig pulled a file out of his desk. “I have a lot of information we haven’t discussed. If your story lines up with the facts, I might believe you.”
Sandra chewed on her thumbnail for several long moments. “Even before that deck fell, Blaine was gathering his money, getting his affairs in order. I didn’t know why at the time, and when I asked, he always had some lame excuse.
I thought he was planning to leave me. It was clear I’d need money for Casey and me. The housing market was crashing, and construction had come to a halt. Even Jacob couldn’t find work. So I went to see a loan shark that Blaine and I had gotten money from before.”
Jacob moaned, too disgusted to want to hear the rest. “I told you I’d take care of you. I still had plenty of money to help with the bills.”
“Yeah, just what I wanted, to live in poverty while Blaine disappeared to Mexico with enough cash to live like a king.”