by Beth Wiseman
“I’m going to get a court-appointed attorney so you don’t have to spend your money. It’s your money, whether you choose to stay in school or not.”
Natalie blinked back tears as the knot in her throat grew. She had watched what divorce could do to a person, the bitterness and ugliness of it all. Now, she was witnessing another transition in her mother. She was putting her daughter first, which made Natalie want to help her even more. “No, we’ll get you your own lawyer.”
Her mother cried harder. “I will find a way to make this up to you.” She took a tissue from her purse and blew her nose. “I should have known better than to blindly trust a man I barely knew, but he’s Amish. They’re supposed to be honest and good.”
“I guess there are bad people in every walk of life.” Natalie thought for a while. “Maybe Dad can help us.”
“Ha. No way. Your father is apparently overextended himself. Olivia is about to throw him out. I think he was only trying to start up things with me because he was going to need a place to live soon.”
Natalie’s mouth fell open as she glanced at her mother. “You’re kidding!” Her heart hurt, and she was angry that her father would try to worm his way back into their lives under false pretenses. Especially since her mother had been working so hard to take back her life. Natalie feared this might be a big step backward.
* * *
Lucas didn’t get home until almost ten, and by the time he got the horse in the barn, his legs felt like lead as he shuffled across the front yard. His parents were on the porch sitting in the rocking chairs. Lucas didn’t want to talk about this now, but it was going to be unavoidable.
His mother stood. “What did Cecelia do to get arrested?”
Lucas believed Natalie about her mother’s innocence, but he was having a hard time believing Moses would set up Cecelia. There had to be another explanation, but until one presented itself, he’d have to go with what he knew. “It sounded like Moses set her up by putting her name on his checking accounts and telling her there was more money in the accounts than there actually was. Whatever happened, a lot of checks that she signed bounced.”
His mother grunted. “Moses wouldn’t do that.” She raised her chin and folded her arms across her chest.
“Then where is Moses? He didn’t come back when he was supposed to. And why would he put his house in Cecelia’s name?”
His mother’s eyes widened. “What?”
Lucas took off his hat and sat on the top porch step, twisting slightly to face his parents. His mother had sat in the rocking chair again. “Natalie said her mother has never been in any kind of trouble before, and by the way Cecelia was crying and carrying on, I’m sure she didn’t do what she’s being accused of.” He rubbed his tired eyes. “Can we talk about this tomorrow?”
His mother shook her head, but his father said, “Ya, we will talk about it tomorrow.”
“And what about the proposal—”
“That can be discussed later also.” His father spoke firmly, and Lucas was grateful.
He got up and trudged into the house. Everyone was in his or her room, and he was relieved. He didn’t want questions. He just wanted to talk to Natalie. But when he called, it went straight to voice mail.
His head was spinning with so many questions, and he needed to know if the odd feeling in the pit of his stomach was all in his mind. Or had Natalie seemed distant? She was understandably preoccupied with her mother, but something else felt off to Lucas.
* * *
Helen kicked her rocking chair into motion as she chewed on her bottom lip. “You don’t think that’s true about Moses setting up Cecelia, do you?” She looked at her husband, who shrugged.
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
Helen frowned. “How can you say that? How many times did we have Moses and Marianne over for supper? Probably not nearly as many times as they had you and me as their guests for a meal. They were always the first to volunteer for a project or assist anyone who needed help.” She lowered her head and folded her hands together before she looked back at him. “I don’t believe it.”
Isaac was quiet, yawning as he stroked his beard.
“Maybe it’s a big misunderstanding that Moses will clear up when he returns.” Helen unfolded her hands, brushed away strands of gray hair that had fallen from beneath her prayer covering, and pondered what Cecelia had to gain by writing checks that wouldn’t clear. Was it some kind of effort to get Moses’s house, and if so, how?
“If he comes back.” Isaac scratched his cheek before his hand found its way back to his beard.
“Of course he’ll come back. He has thousands of dollars’ worth of horses over there. And I don’t care what Lucas said, Moses wouldn’t give Cecelia his haus.”
“Moses and Marianne weren’t here that long. They’d only moved here a year or so before she died a few months ago.” He stilled his hand and turned to face Helen. “How well did we really know them?”
Helen’s jaw dropped. “They were our friends. Moses is still our friend. Even if he did make a bad choice by getting involved with Cecelia.”
“Do you remember, after Marianne died, Moses bought a kitchen set from us?”
Helen nodded. “Ya, he said he didn’t need the big dining room table they had anymore. He sold it and bought the one you and Jacob made.”
“Ya, but the check he gave me wasn’t gut. I needed cash for something that day, so I went to the bank it was drawn on, and the teller said there were insufficient funds to cash it.”
Helen scowled. “You never mentioned that.”
Isaac shrugged as he dropped his hand to his lap. “His fraa had recently died, and I figured he forgot to make a deposit or something. I never said anything and neither did he. I tried to cash it again a week later, but there still wasn’t enough money in his account.”
“Why didn’t you confront him? It wasn’t that long ago, only a few months.” Helen remembered the time and craftsmanship Isaac and Jacob had invested in the project. “Didn’t you sell it to him for five hundred dollars?” They could have used that money. They lived hand to mouth most days.
“Ya. But like you said, he was our friend. I was waiting for him to make it right.”
Helen closed her eyes and leaned her head back, trying to rationalize Moses’s actions. “He was grieving, and like you said, he probably forgot a deposit. I’m sure that was an isolated incident.”
“Nee, I don’t think it was.”
Helen yawned. This was the second time she and Isaac had stayed up past their normal bedtime recently, and four o’clock was going to come early. “What makes you say that?”
“Joseph Zook told me in private that Moses owed him some money, that a check he’d given him for hay didn’t clear the bank. At that point, I figured the poor fellow was having financial troubles we didn’t know about. Folks gossip, so I didn’t tell him I’d also gotten a bad check from Moses.”
Helen was quiet.
Isaac stood. “I’m going to bed. You coming?”
“Ya.” But Helen didn’t budge.
Isaac leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. “I see your wheels spinning, mei lieb, but consider what Cecelia would have to gain from this. It does sound like maybe she is taking the fall for Moses.”
Helen recalled the things she’d said to Cecelia the day they’d had words. If what her husband said was true, then Helen owed Cecelia even more of an apology than before. Helen had practically come out and said her people were better than the Englisch. It had been an awful thing to say, but Cecelia had put down Helen’s family and fueled her words. That still didn’t make it right, though.
She reached for the lantern on the table beside her, pushed herself up, and with a hand on her hip, began to make her way into the house.
After she closed the front door, she hobbled to the bedroom but slowed in the middle of the living room, then turned to go to the kitchen. She placed the lantern on the table, then sat and held her head in her hands, wonderin
g how she’d ever get to sleep. Her body was exhausted, but she couldn’t turn off her mind. Their friend and neighbor apparently wasn’t who he’d seemed to be. And one of her children was choosing marriage to an Englisch woman instead of being baptized into their faith.
She put a hand over her mouth to muffle her cries. Then she prayed for God to somehow make everything all right.
Chapter 16
Natalie sat beside her mother on one side of a large oak desk. A small man with silver hair and thick black glasses sat across from them. It had taken two weeks to get an appointment with Roger Livingston, the best criminal attorney in the area, according to Natalie’s mother. Natalie had asked around as well, and Mr. Livingston’s name kept coming up. She hoped he would be worth his high-dollar retainer.
Between school and helping her mother, Natalie had less time to worry, and Lucas’s proposal had gotten lost in the shuffle. When she talked to him in the evenings, a sense of calm fell over her, and she felt strong enough to get up the next day and do what she needed to do. As she nodded off to sleep each night, she’d picture her life with Lucas. For now, she needed to stay focused on her mother’s situation.
After introductions, Mr. Livingston had sat and opened a folder on his desk. “Before our meeting today, I did some checking around based on what you told my paralegal on the phone.” He pulled out a sheet of paper with handwritten notes. “First of all, Moses deeded his house to you.” He looked over the rims of his thick glasses. “And you signed the deed.”
“No, I didn’t.” Natalie’s mother pressed her lips together and shook her head.
Mr. Livingston pushed a piece of paper toward them. “This is a quitclaim deed.” He pointed to the bottom of the page. “Is this your signature?”
Even Natalie recognized her mother’s handwriting.
“Yes, but . . .” Her mother paused, her lip trembling. “He only asked me to sign forms for the bank so I could sign checks on his accounts. I signed a couple of other documents, but . . .” She pulled out the reading glasses she always complained about, put them on, and studied the paper in front of her. “I might have signed a few things without my glasses on, but I-I . . .” She took off the glasses. “Yes, that’s my signature, but I assure you I didn’t know what I was signing.”
Natalie believed that. Her mother hated those glasses and didn’t wear them unless she was alone.
Mr. Livingston leaned back in the oversize leather chair and rubbed his clean-shaven chin. “Any idea why he’d want you to have his house? Were you two involved in a romantic relationship?”
Her mother glanced at Natalie, then back at the lawyer. “No.”
Mr. Livingston took off his own glasses and grimaced. “If I’m going to be your lawyer, you’re going to have to be honest with me. A neighbor said she saw you kiss Moses not long ago. Carrie, my paralegal, asked around about him. Apparently, the district attorney also did some digging and was told the same thing by the same woman.”
Natalie’s jaw dropped. “Mom, is that true?”
Her mother’s face turned as red as her fingernail polish. “We kissed a couple times, but there was not a relationship, or anything else, for that matter. I planned to tell him when he returned that I wanted to remain friends. I was also planning to look for another job that was full-time.”
“Well . . .” Mr. Livingston slipped his glasses back on and studied his notes. “The fact that someone saw you kissing, and the fact that he deeded his home to you, makes it look like the two of you were involved—and in collusion.”
Natalie leaned her head back and closed her eyes. This keeps getting worse and worse.
“Furthermore, Moses wasn’t a signer on the bank accounts, only you.”
“That’s not true. He had me sign two signature cards. One had his name at the top and was for household expenses, and the other was his business account.”
“A business you own.” Mr. Livingston pushed another piece of paper toward Natalie’s mother. “You signed this transfer of ownership, too, but it wasn’t from a man named Moses. It was from a man we haven’t tracked down yet, possibly this Moses using another name. We aren’t sure.”
Natalie’s mother lifted a hand to her quivering lip as she blinked back tears. “What about the account I paid the household expenses out of?”
“The name on that account was Marianne Schwartz, not Moses Schwartz.” Mr. Livingston sighed. “I know that’s his deceased wife, but the checks from that account cleared the bank. Only the ones from the business account in your name bounced.”
Natalie’s stomach churned.
“Look, it’s fairly easy to see that this guy set you up pretty good,” Mr. Livingston said. Natalie’s mother lowered her head and covered her face as her shoulders shook. “The tricky part is that we will have to convince a jury that you didn’t know what you were signing, specifically the quitclaim deed and transfer of ownership for the business. And that you were paying bills that Moses—we’ll call him that for now—instructed you to pay.”
Natalie reached an arm around her mother’s back. “Mom, it’s going to be okay.”
Mr. Livingston closed the file and stood. “There will be a preliminary hearing, and the judge will decide whether or not there is sufficient evidence to warrant a trial.”
Natalie rose from her chair on shaky legs, her mother following suit, as she dabbed at her eyes and nodded.
“My paralegal is going to keep researching, but I might need to hire a private investigator to find out more information about Moses, or whoever he is. That’s not included in my retainer. This isn’t a big enough crime for the police to put at the top of their list. Hopefully, we can find out about Moses before the hearing.”
Natalie’s mother sat back down, covered her face again, and cried. Then she looked at Mr. Livingston. “No private investigator.”
Natalie sat and patted her mother’s leg. “Yes, Mom. If he thinks you need a PI, we’ll hire one.”
Her mother offered a weak smile. “No. You’re already spending too much money on this. And I’m going to pay you back.”
Natalie didn’t see how her mother was ever going to pay her back, but she would not let her go to jail for crimes she didn’t commit, at least not intentionally.
Mr. Livingston cleared his throat. “Let’s see what we can find out before the preliminary hearing, and then we can readdress the issue of a private investigator if necessary.”
They stood again, and through her tears, her mother thanked Mr. Livingston and shook his hand.
After they left the lawyer’s office, Natalie stopped at the first restroom she saw and pointed at the door. “Do you need to go?”
Her mother shook her head and leaned against the wall.
“I’ll be right back.”
Natalie closed the stall door behind her and threw up.
* * *
Before supper, Lucas told his parents that Natalie was coming over to talk to the three of them afterward. She hadn’t said much on the phone, and Lucas was nervous about the meeting. Over the past couple weeks, he had talked to Natalie every night, and twice they’d met at the library, but he’d felt distance growing between them since Natalie’s mother was arrested.
Their meeting with the lawyer had been earlier today. Lucas asked her on the phone earlier how it went, and she said she would explain everything tonight. But why come here? And why involve his parents?
He’d only had a brief conversation with his family about marrying Natalie. Cecelia’s arrest had temporarily overshadowed their engagement, but Lucas knew that when the dust settled, there would be more discussion.
After supper, Lucas and his parents walked outside when they heard a car pulling in.
“I don’t understand why she needs to talk to us.” His mother sat in one of the rockers, but Lucas and his father remained standing and waited for Natalie to reach them. She stopped at the bottom porch step.
Lucas could tell right away that she’d been crying. Her black eye was a
lmost completely healed, but both eyes were puffy.
“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.” Natalie paused, and Lucas thought she sounded oddly formal. “As you know . . .” Her lip quivered. Lucas wanted to hug her, but it would only further upset his mother if he showed affection toward Natalie in front of them.
“As you know,” she began again, “my mother has been charged with a crime. Today we met with an attorney, and we will have to go to a preliminary hearing in May.” A tear slipped down her cheek, and again, Lucas resisted the urge to go to her. “My mother has never been in any trouble. She has no history of criminal activity. And she is devastated beyond words that this is happening—that she trusted a man she believed to be good and honest.”
Her tears were glazing over into a glare as she found his mother’s eyes. “Moses Schwartz, or whatever his name really is, intentionally set up my mother. She is being accused of bouncing a lot of large checks. He also had my mother unknowingly sign a quitclaim deed to his house, although we have no idea why, except to make it look like they were in collusion. He also coerced her to sign a transfer of ownership for his business. We don’t know why he did that either.
“So, Mom now owns his company and is the only signer listed on his checking account, which has no money in it. Mom never saw a bank statement. Moses told her the amounts of the deposits he said he was making.” She paused, sniffling. “I know Lucas has told you some of this. And maybe we could have proven it all as a setup, but because someone saw my mother and Moses kiss, it adds strength to the case that they were in collusion. And they weren’t!”
Natalie was sobbing now and covered her face with her hands briefly. Lucas walked to her side, but she stepped away from him, locking her eyes on his mother.
She lowered her head, and Lucas suspected she was the person who offered up the information about the kiss. His father held a stoic expression but kept his eyes on Natalie.
“We believed Moses to be who he said he was.” His father spoke with authority, and Lucas prayed things didn’t get ugly. Natalie was overwhelmed with emotion, and rightfully so, but his family had nothing to do with what had happened. Natalie had seemed calm and rational during their visits at the library and phone conversations, even though he’d felt some distance between them. This meeting must have been more difficult than she’d expected.