by Al Lacy
Dodge stopped at the small porch that fronted the office building and raised a hand of welcome to the sheriff.
Perkins nodded and called out, “Howdy, Horace!” He reined in and swung his leg over the horse’s back. When both feet were on the ground, he said, “I’ve got something for you.”
Dodge watched with interest as Perkins opened his saddlebag and pulled out the canvas bag.
“Its all here. Twelve thousand dollars.”
Dodge took the bag and held it to his chest, saying, “Am I glad to get this back! Thank you, Sheriff. Come into the office and tell me where you found it, and who stole it.”
When they were seated, Dodge said, “Let’s hear it. Where’d you find it?”
“My deputies found the bag in a trunk in Blake Barrett’s house.”
Dodge sucked in a sharp breath and stared in open-mouthed astonishment. “Blake? Blake Barrett picked the lock of my safe-deposit box and stole the money?”
“I don’t believe he’s guilty, Horace. I believe he was framed. But I’m afraid I’m going to have a tough time proving it.”
“Wait a minute! Your deputies found the money in his house, didn’t they?”
“Yes, but—”
“Yes, but what? The man’s guilty! I hope he rots in prison!”
“He’s not guilty, Horace! I said he was framed. I’ve known Blake since he was still wet behind the ears. He hasn’t got a dishonest bone in his body. Somebody set him up.”
“Why would anybody do that? What’s to be gained?”
“I don’t know, but I’m going to work on it. Blake doesn’t deserve to go to prison.”
“Well, if he stole my money, he does!”
“The jury will have to decide that, Horace,” Perkins said, rising from the chair. “In the meantime, I’m going to do everything I can to try to find the real thief. See you later.”
Horace Dodge was counting his money before Perkins shut the door.
Blake was in a state of shock as he was ushered to a cell at the county jail. If only he could wake up from this nightmare!
Deputy Vance Ohlman turned the key in the lock, peered through the bars at him, and said, “Mr. Barrett, I want you to know that I’m in agreement with Sheriff Perkins. I don’t believe you stole that money. You spoke of attorney David Rice. Would you like me to go to his office and ask him to come see you?”
“I’d appreciate that very much,” Blake said. “And would you do a couple of other things for me?”
“Just name it, sir.”
“You do your banking with us, don’t you?”
“Sure do.”
“You know my vice president, Haman Warner?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Would you tell him what’s happened and ask him to come and see me as soon as possible? He’s going to have to run the bank till I get this thing straightened out.”
“I’ll take care of it, sir. And what else?”
“I need to see my pastor … Duane Clarke.”
“Yes, of course. Pastor Clarke. I’ll get him for you. Which man do you want to see first?”
“Start with my pastor. Then Dave Rice. And then Haman Warner.”
“Be back as soon as I can,” Ohlman said.
At the moment, there were no other prisoners in the jail. Blake sat down on the cot and put his face in his hands. “Oh, dear Lord in heaven,” he prayed, “how can this be? Lord, You know I’m innocent. Please help me. My life is ruined if I go to prison. And … and there’s Linda. Dear, sweet Linda! She’s coming here to marry me. Please, dear God! You know who did this awful thing. Please bring him to justice and clear me!”
He began to pace the floor as he continued to pray.
Nearly a half hour had passed when Blake heard voices in the hallway leading to the sheriff’s office. The door of the cell block swung open, and attorney David Rice and Sheriff Perkins approached his cell.
“Hello, Blake,” Rice said. “I’m sorry about this. Sheriff Perkins told me the whole thing.”
“Vance is looking for Pastor Clarke,” Perkins said. “The pastor’s out in the country, making some visits. And Haman will be here as soon as he can.”
Blake nodded, then turned to Rice. “Will you take my case?”
“Of course. But I have to tell you, it doesn’t look good. With the sheriff finding the stolen money in your house, the jury is going to take it as hard evidence.”
“So I don’t have a chance, is that what you’re telling me?”
“I’m not saying that. The sheriff’s trying to come up with some kind of evidence to clear you. In the meantime, my plan will be to plead your impeccable past before judge and jury, plus what you’ve done for the community. And I’ll use the common sense leverage: why would a man who’s a millionaire go to the trouble to steal a mere twelve thousand dollars?”
“We’re doing all we can,” Perkins said. “Don’t you give up.”
More footsteps sounded in the hall.
“Blake, let me go to work on this,” said Rice. “We’ll talk fee and all that later. Right now, I want to concentrate on the case. I have no doubt you’re innocent. Somehow, some way, the fact that you’re not guilty has got to come out. I’ll do my best in your defense.”
The door opened and Pastor Clarke entered.
“I know you will, Dave. Thank you.”
Clarke moved up to the bars. “Blake, I can’t believe this is happening.”
“Neither can I.”
To the sheriff and the attorney, Clarke said, “Deputy Ohlman told me all about it. Certainly Blake is going to be cleared of these charges.”
“I’ve been back in the vault,” said Perkins. “And I’ve been back in Blake’s house. I’m trying to find some shred of evidence that will throw the guilt where it belongs and remove it from Blake. I’ll keep trying.”
“And I’m going to build the strongest case I can on Blake’s character and impeccable past,” said Rice. “Of course the best thing would be for Sheriff Perkins to come up with some substantial evidence that will clear Blake. But we’re going to go with what we have when the trial comes.”
“And when will that be?” Clarke asked.
“I talked to Judge Blevins,” said Perkins. “It’ll be Tuesday.”
The pastor’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Four days! Not much time to prepare.”
“We’ll do our best,” Rice said. “Well, I need to get back to my office and do just that—prepare.”
“And I’ll get back on my investigation,” Perkins said.
When both men were gone, Blake said, “Thank you for coming, Pastor. As you can see, I’m in real trouble.”
“Yes. Have you got any idea at all who could have done this thing, Blake?”
“No, sir. As I’m sure Deputy Ohlman told you, it has to be one of my employees. But I can’t come up with any suspect. Nobody in the bank has ever given me the slightest reason to suspect them of dishonesty.”
“Well, one thing is for sure: God knows who the guilty party is, and He is able to let the finger of guilt point to him. Right now, you’ve got to cling to Romans 8:28 and believe that all of this has a purpose.”
Blake closed his eyes. “‘And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.’” He opened his eyes and said, “I remember you preaching on that verse not too long ago, Pastor. You pointed out in the sermon that all things that come into a Christian’s life are not necessarily good, but they work together for good.”
“Right. And you must hang on to that, Blake. Do you remember that I also pointed out in that sermon the word purpose?”
“Yes, sir. You mean, I must trust the Lord to work this whole thing out for me because He’s allowed it to happen for a purpose.”
“Exactly. Let’s just go to Him in prayer right now and thank Him for His mighty hand on your life and that we know this ordeal was allowed to fall on you for a purpose.”
Blake thought
of Linda Forrest, who would also be affected by the ordeal. He had told no one about her and decided it wasn’t yet time to tell his pastor.
Clarke prayed and wept as he asked the Lord to deliver Blake from this fiery trial while letting His purpose be accomplished in the process. He had just finished praying when Haman Warner came through the door, escorted by Deputy Ohlman.
Clarke reached through the bars and gripped Blake’s hand. “I’ll be going now. I’m sure you need to talk to Haman. See you tomorrow.”
“Thanks for coming, Pastor,” Blake said.
Clarke gave him a reassuring smile and excused himself to Warner and Ohlman.
“I’ve explained to Mr. Warner what has happened, Mr. Barrett,” said Ohlman. “Did Mr. Rice get here?”
“Yes, and thank you for your help.”
“My pleasure. I’ll leave you two alone now.”
Both men watched him pass through the door to the outer office, then turned and looked at each other.
While in his heart Haman was happy to see Blake behind bars, outwardly he showed deep concern on his face as he said, “How could a thing like this happen, Blake?”
“I don’t know. Somebody really went to a lot of effort to frame me.”
“Deputy Ohlman says the sheriff believes it’s an inside job. That it had to be somebody who works in the bank.”
Blake nodded. “Can’t hardly be anyone else. But who, Haman? Who?”
Haman shook his head. “I don’t have the faintest idea. I’m at a loss to even make a suggestion.”
“Haman, I need your help.”
The traitor’s cool gray eyes settled on him. “You’ve got it. What can I do?”
“Time is against us on this. The trial has been set for next Tuesday. You’ll have to work fast, but I want you to do a background check on every employee. Even the women. Maybe you’ll come up with something we didn’t know about. Some black mark that would give us a hint as to who the guilty party might be.”
“I’ll get on it right away. We’ve got to flush the thief out in a hurry.”
“How are our employees taking this?”
“Real hard. Not a one believes you’re guilty. They’re all pulling for you.”
Blake chuckled hollowly. “All except one.”
Haman nodded. “Well, yes. All except one.”
Blake looked at Haman affectionately. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. The load of directing the bank has fallen on your shoulders, and now I’ve asked you to take on more work.”
“Hey, it’s all right. Don’t worry about overloading me. I’m here to help in every way I can. If I run into anything at the bank that I can’t handle, I’ll ask your advice. Otherwise, I won’t bother you with it. And as for this background check, I’ll be on it with a vengeance. I want you cleared and out of this place. We need you at the bank.”
Haman moved a little closer to the bars. “Blake, I’m going to do everything I can to find the real thief and prove his or her guilt. You are not going to prison.”
Blake wiped tears from his eyes and said in jest, “I guess I ought to suspect even you.”
“What did you say?” It felt like a hot blade lanced through Haman.
When Blake laughed, Haman heaved an inward sigh of relief.
“You’re the one to benefit if I go to prison. As Dad stated in the will, you would become owner of the bank.”
Haman squeezed Blake’s arm. “There’s just one hitch in your reasoning, Blake. I’m your true friend. And no true friend would do a thing like that. You rest assured, I’ll leave no stone unturned to find the culprit.”
Blake smiled. “If every person in the world could have one friend like you, they would be very fortunate. I mean that.”
“I know you mean it,” Haman said, “and I’m honored you feel that way. We’re in this together, Blake. What hurts you, hurts me. It’s almost more than I can stand to see you behind those bars. If I could change places with you, I’d do it. But since I can’t, I’m going to flush out the dirty snake-in-the-grass who did this to you and laugh when he or she is behind bars!”
Blake reached through the bars and playfully cuffed Haman on the shoulder. “Go get ’em!”
Haman smiled and headed toward the door. “See you later.”
When he was gone, Blake sat down on the cot and let his mind trail once more to Linda Forrest. As soon as he was cleared and released, he would wire her and tell her how eager he was to have her in Sacramento.
12
BLAKE BARRETT’S CASE WENT TO TRIAL as scheduled, but Sheriff Perkins had been unable to come up with any evidence to proffer reasonable doubt that Barrett had stolen the twelve thousand dollars. The prosecuting attorney, who respected Blake, had to use the evidence found in his house by the sheriff and deputies.
Attorney David Rice was left with only one line of defense—Blake’s impeccable past, what he had done for the community, what he had done for his church, and the thought-provoking question: why would a man who was a millionaire risk prison to steal a mere twelve thousand dollars and then be so foolish as to hide it in his own house?
Haman Warner sat on the second row behind Blake and his attorney. Outwardly, he appeared to be deeply concerned for Blake. Inwardly, he was gloating over his own brilliance. He could tell the men on the jury wished they had not accepted their task. Indeed, Blake Barrett was much admired in the town, and though the evidence presented made Blake look absolutely guilty, they hated to bear the responsibility of sending him to prison.
When Judge Blevins dismissed the jury to decide their verdict, Haman left his seat. With every eye in the courtroom on him, he stepped up behind Blake and laid a hand on his shoulder.
Blake looked up with grim eyes as Haman said, “You hang in there, my friend. Maybe your impeccable life and character will be enough to sway the jury to overlook the evidence and acquit you.”
Blake glanced at David Rice, who sat next to him, then said to Haman, “Dave just said the same thing. I hope you’re both right.”
Almost an hour and a half later, the jury returned, looking bleak. When they were seated, Judge Blevins set his eyes on Blake and said, “Will the defendant please rise?”
He then turned toward the twelve men who sat to his left and said, “Gentlemen of the jury, have you reached a verdict?”
The foreman rose to his feet. “We have, your honor. We find the defendant, Blake Barrett, guilty of grand theft as charged.”
Blake’s heart kicked in his chest, and his knees went watery. Rice took hold of his arm to steady him as a collective moan swept through the crowd.
Haman put his hands to his face and shook his head as if he were shocked and upset.
Reluctantly, Judge Blevins said, “Mr. Barrett, you have been found guilty of grand theft, which carries a penalty of not more than twenty years, and not less than fifteen years in prison. By the authority invested in me, I hereby sentence you to fifteen years at the California prison facility at Ukiah.”
The gavel banged the desk, and Blevins said, “This court is adjourned.”
Rice gripped Blake’s shoulders. Through clenched teeth he said, “Blake, I cannot believe the boundless inhumanity inflicted by some human beings upon others. Why would someone in your bank do a thing like this to you?”
“I have no idea,” Blake said. “Maybe … maybe it’s not someone in the bank, even though everything points that way. Maybe the guilty party was smart enough to make it look like that, but he’s really an outsider.”
“I don’t know how,” Rice said dejectedly.
Sheriff Perkins stepped up behind them. “Blake, it just so happens there are two federal marshals here on their way to Ukiah. They arrived in town last night. Knowing you would probably be convicted, I asked them to wait till the trial was over, so if you did get convicted, they could take you with them. I’m turning you over to them, and they need to leave right away.”
Blake glanced at the two federal men, who stood within earshot, looki
ng on. They nodded to him.
Pastor Clarke was directly behind Perkins. He moved up and said, “Sheriff, I’d like a few minutes alone with Blake.”
“Sorry, Pastor, but these men have to be in Ukiah by nightfall. As you know, it’s almost a hundred miles, and they’re on horseback. They’ve got to leave now.”
Tears filmed Pastor Clarke’s eyes as he gripped Blake’s hand. “A great injustice has been done here,” he said. “But don’t give up. Hang on to Romans 8:28 and remember that the church will be praying for you. God knows who the real thief is, and we’ll be praying that God will bring him to light.”
“Pastor, I hate to interrupt,” said the sheriff, “but Blake has to go.”
Haman crowded in. “Blake,” he said, “this is so horrible! I’m so sorry this has happened. I’ll take good care of the bank, and when you get out of prison in fifteen years, I’ll give it back to you.”
Blake nodded, feeling numb all over. “Haman, I’ll need you to sell the house for me. Just put the proceeds in an account in my name, will you?”
“I have a better idea. How about I just live in the house till you get out of prison, then you’ll still have it. All your belongings will still be here.”
“I … I hadn’t thought of that. You sure you want to do that?”
“Of course.”
“I don’t know how to thank you.”
“Hey, what are friends for?”
“Let me hear from you now and then.”
“I will. And I’ll get up there to see you, too.”
Blake thought of Linda. Turning to Perkins, he said, “Sheriff, before I go with the marshals, I need to send a wire to someone back east.”
One of the marshals stepped up and said, “We can’t wait for that, Mr. Barrett. We’ve got a horse out here for you to ride, and we’ve got to leave right now.”
“Then can I send a wire from the prison, Marshal—”
“Adams. Roy Adams. My partner over there is Marshal Jack Plummer. And, no, they don’t allow prisoners to send wires from the prison. You can’t even send a letter from the prison till you’ve been there on good behavior for six months. But you can receive mail right away. C’mon. Let’s go. We’ve got a long ride ahead of us.”
