Dangerous Amish Inheritance

by Debby Giusti

  “You can still follow the Ordnung within your home. No computers, no televisions, no technology in the house.”

  “‘No fun,’ the boys would say, once they are exposed to the ways of the world.”

  “You might underestimate them. I lived in the world for the last ten years, yet I still see the good in living Amish.”

  She tilted her head. “But I thought you were ready to leave the mountain?”

  He was, yet when he was with Ruthie thoughts of settling down and embracing his Amish roots took hold of him like a dog tugging at his pant leg.

  Looking away, he shook his head. “I’m not sure what I want.”

  “Sometimes it is hard to know. Have you asked Gott?”

  “He and I have been somewhat estranged.”

  “Maybe it is time to get to know each other again.”

  “You might be right.” He squeezed her hand. “Do you feel up to a visit to Mountain Bank? It’s not far from here.”

  “I want to ask them about my account, so, yes, stopping there will be fine.”

  Noah drove the few blocks to the bank and pulled into the parking lot at the side of the large stone structure. “Let’s talk to the bank manager. He might know something about Prescott Construction.”

  Before they reached the entrance, two men barged out of the bank. One was a portly man wearing a plaid suit. Noah recognized Floyd Castle and tapped Ruthie’s arm to get her attention.

  The other man was tall and muscular. He wore a long-sleeve black shirt and khaki pants. “We saw him at the pizza parlor,” Ruthie said, her voice low. “He was sitting with another man in the rear of the restaurant.”

  Castle pulled at his collar. “Look, Burkholder, I don’t care what kind of problems you’re having. You sold me on the idea of a lake and said you could make it happen. Now you’re making excuses.”

  “The deal’s taking longer than I expected.”

  “That’s your problem, not mine.”

  Both men hurried to a white sedan with dark windows. The man called Burkholder took the wheel, and the sedan pulled onto the main road, heading north.

  “We need to find out who Burkholder is,” Noah suggested. “Someone who works at the home-development site, for sure.”

  “Castle did not seem happy.”

  “Nor did Burkholder. Looks like there might be trouble with Castle Homes.”

  They hurried inside and asked to speak to the manager. The receptionist led them to a small office, where a bald man in his midforties stood to greet them. He stuck out his hand. “George Masters. How can I help you folks?”

  Noah introduced himself and Ruthie, and explained that they lived on the mountain and were considering selling their properties. “Prescott Construction has made an offer on my land. Vince Ashcroft notified me of their interest. He’s been out of town, but I’m hoping to meet with him later this afternoon. I’d like to know who I’m dealing with and thought you might have information about the construction company.”

  The manager tugged on his jaw as he thought for a moment. “That’s not a local firm. Of course, we’ve got a lot of folks passing through town these days. Let me check my computer.”

  He tapped his keyboard and stared at his monitor. “They haven’t done business with us or they would be in our system. But that name sounds familiar.”

  “I thought the same thing and did a computer search but came up with nothing.”

  “Wish I could help. I do know there’s a lot of interest in new property these days. The mountain would seem like prime real estate, especially for someone, maybe from the movie studio, wanting to build a getaway retreat. I don’t want to talk out of turn, but there are two real-estate companies in town. Willkommen Realty is an established firm. They’re reputable and well thought of by the local townspeople and business owners.”

  “Are you saying there might be a problem with Ashcroft Real Estate?”

  The manager shrugged. “I’m not saying anything except Vince came to town not long ago. I wouldn’t want you to get involved with someone who was less than reputable.”

  Ruthie scooted closer in her seat. “Mr. Ashcroft is not reputable?”

  Masters spread his hands. “I’m just telling you he’s new and inexperienced.”

  “I appreciate your honesty,” Noah said. “We saw a Castle Homes commercial on television. He must be building in the local area.”

  “North of town. Ashcroft Real Estate is handling the sales. Got himself on Mr. Castle’s good side.” Masters shook his head. “I’m not sure how, although it should be a gold mine for him if he plays his cards right.”

  Noah looked at Ruthie. She raised an eyebrow. “Mr. Ashcroft likes to gamble?” she asked.

  The banker smiled. “He’s gambling on Castle Homes drawing people from other parts of the state. I’m not as confident about the attraction.”

  “You don’t think buyers will want to move to the North Georgia mountains?” Noah asked.

  “Some folks will, but he’s planning on three building phases of one hundred homes each. That’s a lot of newcomers to town. The bank will enjoy opening new accounts, but I’ve got to tell you, this town will be hard-pressed to take care of that many folks, especially if they move in within a short period of time. A lot of the locals are worried. I tried to tell Castle to go slow, but he’s got these grand ideas about making a fortune. He’s dealing with another bank in town, though he stopped by to see if I could offer him a better loan, which I couldn’t.”

  “He’s been successful in other areas of the country,” Noah said.

  Masters nodded. “True, but his company was nearly wiped out with what happened in the Chattanooga area. Not sure if you read the papers, but a dam broke and his housing development was flooded. Folks died. Houses that hadn’t sold were washed away. Castle had insurance but not enough to cover his losses.”

  “My brother and his family were in one of those homes, Mr. Masters.”

  “I’m mighty sorry. A tragedy, for sure.”

  “Why did Castle choose Willkommen for his next housing project?”

  “Land was relatively inexpensive here compared to the big cities. The way I see it, he wants to turn his company around and thought this would be an easy sell. He rushed in without doing enough homework.”

  Noah was interested. “What do you mean?”

  “His community is centered on a man-made lake. Somewhere he got the idea he could feed it with a natural spring, only there’s no such thing in that area. He cut down the vegetation and ended up with a dust bowl that is less than inviting. Ask anyone in town. They’ll tell you the same thing.”

  “We saw him outside your bank in a heated conversation with another man.”

  “Probably Brian Burkholder, his foreman. From what I gather, Burkholder claimed if they dug a lake, he could ensure it would fill by the grand opening next week. Even with this current rain, the lake is less than one-third filled. People don’t want to see a mud hole when they are looking at possible home sites.”

  “Sales aren’t going well?” Noah asked.

  Masters shrugged. “He’s tight-lipped about everything, but that’s what I hear.”

  The bank manager drummed his fingers on his desk. “Anything else I can help you folks with today?”

  “Could you check my bank account?” Ruthie asked. “My husband kept track of our finances. He died recently, and I want to ensure the balance in the checkbook is accurate. The only identification I brought is the bank statement. I hope that is sufficient.” Ruthie handed him a statement that included her account number.

  “That will be fine, Mrs. Eicher, and I’m sorry about your loss.” He typed the account number she provided into his computer. “Ruth Ann Plank Eicher?”

  “That is correct.”

  “I knew your dad. He often talked about his daughter who cared
for him.”

  Ruthie’s eyes widened. “Did he bank here?”

  “No, ma’am. You might want to check North Georgia Bank.”

  He tapped the keyboard. The printer hummed. He pulled the paper from the machine and handed her the printout. She studied the information before folding the paper and tucking it in her purse.

  Noah leaned forward. “Could you check to see if my father had an account?” He provided his father’s name and his own driver’s license for identification.

  “Reuben was a customer.” Masters typed something into the computer and nodded. “You’re on his account.” The banker handed Noah the printout.

  “I’ll leave the money in the bank for now, but after the land sells, I might decide to close the account.”

  “Whatever you decide works for us.”

  “Thanks for your help.” Noah stood and shook the banker’s hand.

  “Good seeing you both.”

  Noah hurried Ruthie to his truck. “Let’s see if Vince Ashcroft is in his office. I’m interested in what he has to say about our properties. Plus, I want to know why all of a sudden someone wants to buy land on Amish Mountain.”

  Noah felt like he was in the middle of a giant jigsaw puzzle. He had a number of pieces, but none of them fit together. One thing was certain, the land was secondary compared to Ruthie and her boys. His first priority was to keep them safe.

  SEVENTEEN

  Noah parked in the rear of the real-estate office. He opened the passenger door and escorted Ruthie inside. The receptionist he had met yesterday smiled. “Mr. Schlabach, right?”

  He nodded and introduced Ruthie. “Is Mr. Ashcroft available?”

  “He just arrived. I’ll tell him you’re here.” She slipped from behind her desk, hurried down the hall and entered an office, closing the door behind her.

  Not more than thirty seconds later, she returned. “Mr. Ashcroft would be happy to see you now.”

  The real-estate agent stood as they entered his office. He extended his hand and offered them a wide smile and a limp handshake.

  Vince Ashcroft was pushing fifty with a receding hairline and bushy eyebrows. A small tuft of facial hair protruded below his lower lip and looked like a smudge of dirt on his otherwise clean-shaven face.

  “Sit down and we’ll discuss the contract from Prescott Construction.” He tapped on his keyboard and then studied his monitor. “You’ve got the Amish Mountain property on the north side of the river.”

  “That’s correct.” Noah nodded. “I’d like to know the construction company’s offer and how soon we can close the deal.”

  “Didn’t I mail that information to you?”

  “I never received anything.”

  Again Ashcroft tapped his keyboard. His printer hummed into operation. He pulled a piece of paper from the machine. “Here’s the offer they’re making.” He pointed to the amount with his pen.

  “I don’t know what property is going for around here,” Noah admitted, “but that seems low.”

  Very low, plus Noah was less than satisfied with Ashcroft claiming he had sent papers Noah had never received.

  “If you had land in town, I’d say you were right. But Amish Mountain is a different ballgame, so to speak. We don’t have any comparable sales in that area. You could counter.”

  Noah sighed. “I had hoped everything could be wrapped up quickly.”

  “And it will be if you decide to accept their offer. As long as their funding comes through, we could have the sale completed by the end of the week.”

  “Let me think it over.”

  “Certainly, although they might find another property if you drag your feet too long.”

  Noah didn’t want to be pushed into accepting a low bid. “Do you have any idea why they’re interested in the land?”

  “As I mentioned, Prescott Construction contacted me by email. You’ll find their email and mailing addresses on the printout I gave you. We haven’t discussed anything over the phone.”

  “Do you have their number and a point of contact?”

  “Ah...” Ashcroft hesitated. “Let me check the computer.” He studied the monitor and scrolled through a few pages. “Hmm? Strange. We don’t have a point of contact or a phone number for them.”

  “That seems unusual.”

  “It’s an out-of-state company...” The agent shrugged. “Some people like to keep their anonymity.”

  “And when they do,” Noah said, feeling even more unsettled, “I always wonder why.”

  “I own the neighboring property,” Ruthie interjected. “Prescott Construction contacted me by mail and expressed interest in my land, as well. Have they mentioned acquiring my farm?”

  Ashcroft shrugged. “They haven’t mentioned any other land, but I could email the company.”

  The agent glanced at Ruthie. “Do you want to sell?”

  She held up her hand. “I am interested in finding out how much they are willing to spend. Depending on their offer, I would decide whether to sell or not.”

  “You farm the land?” Ashcroft asked.

  “That is correct.”

  “With your husband?”

  “My husband passed away two months ago.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss, but I can certainly understand your desire to move off the mountain.”

  “I do not want to move, Mr. Ashcroft, but I am making inquiries.”

  “I see. How many acres?”

  “Fifty-five.”

  “Nice. I’m sure I can find a buyer for you.” He made a note on his tablet and then asked, “What about the mortgage?”

  “It is through a local bank.”

  “Without any lends or other loans attached to the farm?”

  “That is correct.”

  The agent nodded. “I’ll email Prescott Construction and see what they say about your property.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Ashcroft.”

  “Of course.” He glanced at his watch. “I hate to cut this short, but I have a meeting to attend. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

  “How long before the papers would be ready to sign if I accept the offer on my land?” Noah asked.

  “Two or three days, tops. Call my receptionist when you come to a decision.”

  “Cell service on the mountain is hit-or-miss. I’ll stop by your office in the next few days.”

  “I’ll see you then.” Ashcroft rounded his desk, shook their hands and then opened his office door. “Good talking with you, folks. I’ll be in touch.”

  As they stepped into the hallway, Noah spied a poster advertising Castle Homes’ grand opening next week.

  “This is a new development in town?” he asked the receptionist, hoping to get more information.

  “Yes, sir. It’s located about five miles north of Willkommen. Take Wagner Road and you’ll see the signs for the office. There’s a model home to tour if you’re interested.”

  “Someone’s out there now?”

  She nodded. “The office is open until five thirty.”

  “Thanks, Tiffany.”

  “No problem. I almost forgot, I just received something from Prescott Construction. On the phone, you asked about a point of contact. Brian Burkholder’s name is on the offer.”

  “He works for Mr. Castle?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know about that, but I saw his name on the papers.”

  “You’ve been a great help, Tiffany.”

  She smiled. “Ashcroft Real Estate aims to please.”

  As they left the real-estate office, Noah leaned closer to Ruthie. “Did you get the idea Ashcroft wanted us out of his hair or was it my imagination?”

  “After what the banker said, I wonder if he is a reputable agent, Noah. I would not want his inability to broker a deal to impact the sale of yo
ur father’s land.”

  “I’ve got a strange feeling about Ashcroft, as well as Prescott Construction. I smell something fishy and we’re quite a distance from the river.”

  They hurried toward his truck.

  “Let’s check out Castle Homes,” Noah suggested. “I want to see what Floyd Castle is up to. He wheels and deals, and I don’t like fast-talkers who always want to make a quick buck. Plus, I want to learn more about Brian Burkholder.”

  Noah checked his watch when they climbed into the truck. “Bottom line, I don’t trust Castle. His foreman might also be questionable.”

  Before Noah turned the key in the ignition, a car raced out of the real-estate parking lot and turned north. A small sports car. Vince Ashcroft sat behind the wheel.

  “Our real-estate agent seems to be in a hurry,” Ruthie said.

  Noah nodded.

  Ashcroft had gotten flustered when Noah asked for Prescott Construction’s phone number. The real-estate agent was being less than forthright. He knew more than he wanted to let on and that worried Noah. What was Ashcroft hiding, and who really wanted to buy the mountain land?

  * * *

  “Can we stop at the sheriff’s office before we visit Castle Homes?” Ruthie asked. “The deputy may have information about the red truck that pushed us onto the train tracks. Plus, I want to find out about the man who lives in the woods. The deputy said they would bring him in for questioning. I need to know what they learned.”

  Noah checked his watch. “Deputy Warren should be in his office, which isn’t far from here.”

  After a series of turns, Noah parked on the street in front of the sheriff’s office and ushered Ruthie inside.

  The clerk smiled in recognition. “You folks here to talk to Deputy Warren? He’s at his desk. Go on back.”

  The deputy was as welcoming as he had been the day prior. “How are the boys?” he asked.

  “They’re making ice cream with my aunt Mattie.”

  “Such fine lads.” The deputy pursed his lips. “I understand you had another incident in town.”

  Noah explained about his pickup being shoved onto the tracks as the oncoming train neared.