The Calling (19 page)

Bethany’s eyes filled with tears. “I don’t know.” She looked away. “Maybe not.”

“I see.” Geena leaned forward. “Would you like to talk? Life gets complicated sometimes. It can help to talk things out.”

Bethany shook her head, splattering tears, then ducked her chin in embarrassment. “Shootfire!” she said fiercely. “I’m sorry. I’m never emotional like this. Hardly ever.”

Geena patted her back. “Come inside and let’s chat.”

In the small living room of the guest flat of Eagle Hill, Bethany poured out her life story: her mother’s disappearance, her father’s untimely passing, her brother’s reappearance, and all the pieces in between. “I just want to know why. Why did she leave? Did I do something to make her go? Did my father? I feel as if I can’t stop wondering about her—maybe because my father has died. I’ll never know anything more if I don’t track her down now.”

When Bethany had finally finished with her long story, with her tears and deep breaths, Geena encased Bethany’s hand like a sandwich between her own and looked deeply into her face. “Maybe you should go find your mother and get some answers to your questions.”

“I don’t even know how to get to Hagensburg. Buses, I guess.”

“I could drive you there. I could go with you.”

Bethany’s head snapped up. “I didn’t mean to ask—”

Geena held up a hand. “You didn’t ask. I offered.”

“Maybe my brother is right. Maybe it’s best to just let sleeping dogs lie.”

“Sometimes it is best to leave things alone. But sometimes, a person can’t move forward until she faces what’s holding her back.”

“What if I find out something I don’t want to know?”

“I guess that’s something you need to decide for yourself.”

“I want to know about my mother,” Bethany said. “But I don’t.”

“Sometimes the past can cling to us like cobwebs, getting in the way of the future.” Geena patted Bethany’s shoulder. “If you want to go, just let me know when and I’ll drive you over there.”

From the guest flat window, Geena watched Bethany walk back to the clothesline and her heart felt sad. She hoped it had helped for Bethany to talk to her, though the way her shoulders were slumped made her think she had only added to the poor girl’s confusion. She would have loved to have dropped everything and driven Bethany right over to Hagensburg, right now, and get answers to those burdensome questions. But going, or not going . . . that had to be Bethany’s decision.

Geena wasn’t surprised that Bethany had shared personal information with her even though they had only known each other for a short time. People had always told her their stuff, even before she was ordained. Maybe she was easy to talk to. She hoped so. Sometimes people just needed a safe place to unload their troubles. An objective listener. Her counseling classes at seminary had taught her that the best way to draw someone out was just to listen.

But to whom did a minister go to share his or her stuff?

Early Friday morning, Tobe called Allen Turner of the Securities Exchange Commission. The lawyer told him to sit tight, that he would be there in a few hours.

Bethany had heard the name of Allen Turner for over a
year. She had an impression of the kind of man he might be: old, balding, with thick glasses, wearing a detective’s overcoat that brushed his ankles, and carrying a fat briefcase with papers sticking out of it. The real Allen Turner turned out to be youngish, sort of. In his mid-forties, she guessed, with a full head of blondish hair and a rather kind-looking face. Not looksome like Jimmy Fisher, sort of a craggy face, but not bad for a middle-aged English man. His smile was kind, lighting up the sadness in his eyes. That was what surprised Bethany the most—his eyes. They weren’t the eyes of a ferocious lawyer. They were fatherly eyes.

“This is one case I’m determined to solve,” he told Rose and Bethany as they met him at the car and walked to the house.

“Is it still considered to be a case?” Rose said.

“Yes, ma’am, it is.”

“It’s naïve, I suppose, to hope that there’s enough information to clearly show that my husband and son had done nothing wrong with Schrock Investments. Nothing intentionally wrong.”

“Yes, ma’am. That would be naïve.”

Allen Turner sat at the kitchen table of Eagle Hill, opened his big briefcase—that was one part of him that did fit the image in Bethany’s mind—and started to pull out thick files. She had to fight a powerful urge to stand up and fuss with the food or do the dishes, start some coffee. Women, Rose had once said, had to do something with their hands in times of crisis. Boy, was that right. She had to sit on her hands to keep from fidgeting.

Rose sent Mim over to Naomi’s to tell Tobe that Mr. Turner was here. And she asked Mim to stay over there, to keep an eye on Luke and Sammy. Bethany was pretty sure Rose wished
she could send Mammi Vera away for this conversation too. Her grandmother was hovering in the kitchen, glaring at Allen Turner as if she were a mother lioness and he was threatening one of her cubs. Which, in a way, was true.

When Tobe returned from next door, his face was flushed and not from the heat. Even Bethany was aware this was a significant moment in his life. Tobe shook Allen Turner’s hand and sat down at the table.

Bethany caught Rose’s eye and nodded her head to the door.

“Would you like us to leave?” Rose said, setting a pitcher of iced tea on the table with two glasses and a plate of cookies. “We can give you some privacy.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Mammi Vera announced, seating herself at the table.

Allen Turner took a glass and filled it with iced tea. He took a long sip and set it down, then wiped his forehead with a handkerchief. The room felt like an oven and it was only eleven in the morning. “Please stay, all of you. I have questions for you too. We’ve got a lot to wade through.” He set a tiny tape recorder on the table and looked up. “I hope you don’t mind if I record our conversation.” He turned it on without waiting for anyone’s permission. “Tobe, start by stating your name and age.”

“My name is Tobias Schrock. I’m twenty-two years old . . .”

Tobe answered Allen Turner’s questions for over two hours, while Rose and Mammi Vera and Bethany sat at the table, patiently listening. There was nothing new in what Tobe had to say, not to Rose, but something new did occur. Allen Turner pulled out two black ledgers and set them on the table. “Do you recognize these?”

Bethany pressed her backbone against the hard chair. Those were the two books that she had given—searched for and handed over!—to Jake Hertzler, just two months ago. She felt that strange feeling start again in her chest, like she couldn’t get a full breath of air.

Comprehension stilled Tobe, but only for a moment. “Those are the actual ledgers for Schrock Investments. Those show the real story. That we were running out of money.”

“This case has been pretty unusual for me. Without any computers, there’s no paper trail. Everything boils down to these ledgers.” Allen Turner opened one of them up. “Maybe you knew that.” He lifted his eyes to observe Tobe’s response.

“I’ve never worked with computers. I wouldn’t know any difference. That’s just the way Schrock Investments kept their records.” Tobe bit his lip. “How’d you get those?”

“They arrived at my desk, sent anonymously. A note inside said they belonged to you.”

Tobe squeezed his eyes shut. “The entries were made by Jake Hertzler. You can compare handwriting and see that’s the truth. But I took the books and hid them on the day the subpoena was delivered and my father was told there was a lawsuit forming against Schrock Investments.”

“Why did you hide them?”

Tobe shrugged. “I panicked. It was stupid. I just thought I could protect my father.”

“These ledgers only reveal part of the story. Schrock Investments was in trouble but it wasn’t only because of poor returns.” Allen Turner reached out and took one of Rose’s cookies. He took a bite, then a few more. The room had grown quiet, the crunching of the cookie sounded like a cow in dried cornstalks.

“I’m sure there’s a perfectly good explanation,” Rose said quietly, but she clasped her hands so tightly, the knuckles turned white.

“Quite right, Mrs. Schrock,” Allen Turner said, talking around bites of cookie. “Someone was siphoning money from the company.”

Tobe jerked his head up. “It wasn’t me! I would never have done such a thing.”

Allen Turner flattened his palms on the table. “No one’s accusing you, son. We think it was Jake Hertzler. He was skimming off the company from the start.”

“How did you discover that?” Rose asked.

Allen Turner pulled out another file, with a picture of a man on top. Jake’s picture. “It’s taken me awhile to piece it all together. Jake Hertzler, aka Jack Hartzler, John Hershberger . . . he’s got a number of aliases. He’s a con artist. A clever one. He dabbles in all kinds of money laundering scams.”

Quietly, Bethany added, “Horse trading too.”

Allen Turner looked over at her as if he just realized she was there. “Wouldn’t surprise me. Anything he can get his mitts into, he finds a way to turn a fast one.”

Mammi Vera slammed her fists on the tabletop. “That Jake Hertzler always did strike me as slicker than a pan full of cold bacon!”

Allen Turner grinned, a first. “Well, his luck is running out. He got greedy with Schrock Investments and caught the SEC’s attention on this one. I’m going to nail this guy.” He looked at Tobe. “And if you want to avoid some jail time, you’re going to help me.”

“Jail?” Tobe asked, color draining from his face. “Why would I have to go to jail?”

“Son, you broke the law,” Allen said, his eyes both weary and wary. “You committed felonies.”

“How?”

“Concealing records. Withholding information. You’re facing jail time. A lot of it . . . unless . . . we can prove Jake Hertzler’s involvement as the mastermind behind this pyramid scheme.”

“But he was!”

Allen lifted an eyebrow. “Then help me prove it.”

“How?”

“You’ll need to come back to Philadelphia with me.”

Tobe looked at him suspiciously. “So you can throw me in jail?”

“I’m going to do what I can to keep you
out
of jail. But there are people you’re going to have to talk to first. And I need to have your full cooperation to build this case against Jake Hertzler. We need your testimony.”

“I’ll do anything I can to pin Jake down.” A shadow crossed over his eyes. “Anything.”

“Tobias Schrock!” Mammi Vera snapped. “Revenge is not an option.” She tapped a finger on the tabletop. “Don’t forget who you are.”

Tobe looked over at her. “Jake should pay for what he did. Is wanting justice so wrong?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “God decides those matters. Justice belongs to him. You were raised to be a Plain man. You can’t toss that away like an old hat.”

Allen Turner leaned forward in his chair. “Son, is there something else you know? Something you’re not telling me?”

Tobe hesitated. He kept his eyes on the tabletop. “I know he falsified bank statements. I saw him do it.”

“Yeah,” Allen Turner said. “I figured that out.”

“What else, Tobe?” Rose said. “Do you know something else about Jake Hertzler that you’re not telling us? Are you frightened about something? Is that why you disappeared?”

Everyone stilled, all eyes on Tobe. He ran his finger along a spot on the oilcloth that covered the table, then finally lifted his head. He didn’t back down. If anything, his jaw hardened. “I told you what I know for sure.”

Bethany knew her brother well enough to know he was lying. Tobe knew something else he didn’t want to say. But what?

Rose must have had the same sense. “I’m going with you to Philadelphia,” she said.

Tobe’s head jerked up. “No you’re not. I got myself into this and I’m going to get myself out of it.”

“I’m coming too,” Mammi Vera added. She looked right at Rose. “Don’t even try to talk me out of it.”

Rose opened her mouth, then clamped it shut with a frown. Both women ignored Tobe, talking over his objections as if he weren’t even there.

“I’m due for a three-month checkup with that Dr. Stoltz anyway. I’ll just move it up a little. We’ll stay at Delia Stoltz’s house. She stayed here plenty long.” Mammi Vera waved a hand at Rose as if shooing a cat. “You call her today and let her know we’re coming.”

Rose sighed. It was decided. “Then we’ll have to take the boys too. Bethany and Mim have enough to do with the inn and their work at the Sisters’ House.”

“You can leave them, Rose,” Bethany said. “We’ll trade off watching them. Tobe needs you right now.”

Rose hesitated, nodded, then turned to Allen Turner. “We
can’t leave for a few days, though. There’s a work frolic tomorrow to help build the community garden.”

Allen Turner had been watching the family interaction with a stunned look on his face. Bethany thought everything about Schrock Investments probably stunned him. “Mrs. Schrock, this isn’t a vacation. Your stepson is under investigation for criminal charges.”

Rose lifted her chin. “My
son
is innocent.” She didn’t like to use the word “step” when referring to her relationship to Bethany and Tobe. As far as she was concerned, they were a family. Period. “And my son is not going to Philadelphia without me. We need Tobe tomorrow for the frolic. And then there’s Sunday church. So we can’t leave until Monday. You can come back for us then.”