Chapter 8 - The Receipts
Jonah
couldn’t get their recent conversation regarding the land and harvests out of
his head. Although he also considered a sixty-five to thirty-five split in
profits a fair deal, since Mr. Barnes did all the heavy lifting, somehow he
couldn’t shake off the fact that Clea could be getting ripped off.
“I’m
not that gullible, Jonah. He brings me the payout sheet and a check every year.
The payout sheet comes directly from the bureau after they’ve weighed each load
and tabulated the cost and payment.”
“No,
madam. You may not be gullible, but you are certainly too trusting.” He frowned
as he pursed his lips. “If the man’s been hounding you for years to get you to
sell your land to him, what’s to stop him from denying you your full
percentage? I don’t know how he could be doing it, but I will bet my gold coin
he’s been stealing from you all the same. And I aim to discover how.”
A
germ of an idea began to sprout in his mind. It was during lunch when it
bloomed.
“I
have to go into town to get a few things from the supermarket. Would you like
to go with me? Provide me with a little company?” Clea mentioned. She hastily
gave him the option to decline. “Unless you have something else you need to do
instead.”
“I
would be delighted to go with you,” he assured her, adding, “I wish I was able
to drive us there, but you said that wasn’t allowed since I don’t have a
driver’s license.”
That
earned him a sad smile. “Not unless you can produce a birth certificate.”
Jonah
snorted. “Madam, back in those days, only the rich or royalty were given that
luxury, and only because their baptisms were sanctioned by the Church. Us lowly
peasants had to make do with word of mouth.”
She
stared at him for a few seconds as she pondered something. “Jonah, when is your
birthday?”
He
sighed. “I have no idea, Clea. I’ve never celebrated it the way I’ve seen
people of late celebrate.”
“Are
you telling me you’ve never celebrated your birthday? Then how do you know how
old you are?”
“I
chose a specific time of the year as my cornerstone. Every spring, when the
flowers return, and the birds build their nests, and the world awakens from its
winter slumber, I add another year to my existence.” He winked at her. “It’s
simple science and mathematics.”
A
look akin to pity flashed across her beautiful face but she didn’t respond.
Instead, she gathered up her dirty plate and utensils, and took them over to
lay them in the sink. He arose from the table to do the same. It wasn’t until
he reached for the dish soap that she stopped him.
“Don’t
worry about that now. I’ll wash them when we get back.”
He
went to the back door and held it open for her while she grabbed her purse. After
locking the door behind them, he got into the vehicle on the front passenger
side.
“Will
you be going into the store with me? Or are you planning to go wandering around
town again?” She threw him a quick smile. It broke the somber mood.
“I
was thinking about doing a bit more sightseeing,” he admitted. “If that is all
right with you.”
“Not
a problem. Is there anything you need in particular I can pick up for you while
I’m at the store?” Clea cast him another quick glance.
“I
am satisfied with the way things stand at the present,” he replied.
“I’ll
take that as a no.”
When
they arrived at the marketplace, Clea checked around them as they exited the
vehicle. “Do you have a way to tell time?”
“In
what way, madam?”
“Like
hourly?”
Jonah
pointed to the distant tall steeple visible through the trees. “The church
chimes every quarter hour and hour. Just let me know when you prefer me to be
back.”
“I
have no idea how long I’ll be. Shall we say…” She peered at her wristwatch. “Meet
back here in an hour? If I have a little extra time to spare, I might run over
to Dougdales and get Joey a package of socks.” She sighed. “I swear, that kid
goes through socks like they’re made of tissue paper.”
“I
have an idea.” Crossing his arms, Jonah braced them on top of the car’s roof
and leaned toward her. “If I’m not back within the hour, go ahead and leave
without me.” Of course, she started to object, but he quickly waved her off.
The instant he did, a knowing smile lit up her face, and she lightly laughed.
“Of
course. You could pop out of here and be home long before I could.” She tossed
the purse strap over her head to secure it across her chest. “Is there anywhere
in particular you plan to go?”
“I
thought I’d see what catches my attention.”
“Just
going for a stroll?”
“That in itself is a
luxury for me. You have to remember, Clea, most of the time when I passed
through a town like this, I rarely got to enjoy what the location had to offer.
I was too engaged in finding a temporary job that would enable me to get something
to eat and a safe place to lay my head.”
She nodded,
understanding, her expression suddenly serious again. “One of these days, I’d
like to hear of your…exploits. I’d like to hear how you survived all this
time.”
“You have my word you
shall, Clea. When the time is right.” He straightened. “However, this is not
the time. Enjoy your shopping. Until later.”
“Well, enjoy yourself,
too. I’ll see you…whenever.” Waggling her fingers at him, she bade him “Toodle-oo!”
and walked away.
Jonah watched her
until she disappeared from view, then headed straight to the feed store located
a short distance away. Ever since Clea had told him about her agreement with
her neighbor, he’d kept himself open for any spark of an idea how to pursue it.
Passing the feed store gave him that chance.
The woman behind the
check-out counter glanced up from her paperwork and smiled. “Yes, sir! How can
I help you?”
He graced her with his
best smile. “I’m new here in town. Can you please instruct me on how to get to
the Farm Bureau? They are the people who buy the farmers’ crops in this
area during the harvest, are they not?”
Her smile widened. “Yes,
they do, and you’re in luck! It’s not far. When you leave here, turn left, go
to the end of the block and turn left again. It’s a small brick building with a
sign out front. You can’t miss it.”
Thanking her, Jonah
hurried away. He’d caught sight of the sign she’d mentioned when Clea had
driven past that intersection, but he had no recollection on how to get there.
Now he knew.
It didn’t take him
long to arrive. Inside the small building, he noticed it was basically one room
containing three desks sectioned off with a low divider. Two men sat in front
of their computers. One was on the telephone. The third desk was empty. The man
not on the phone greeted him as he walked in.
“Good afternoon. What
can I do for you?”
“Good day, sir. My
name is Jonah Cobb. I work for Mrs. Clea Hatch.”
The man, whose
nameplate read LEON MAITLAND, nodded but remained silent as he waited for Jonah
to get to the point.
Jonah continued. “Her
neighbor, Mr. Vince Barnes, tills and plants crops on her land, and they split
the profits after every harvest.”
“I know Mr. Barnes
very well,” Mr. Maitland admitted.
“Where does he take
the harvest?” Jonah inquired.
“To our weigh station
over on County Road Fourteen.”
“Is that where he’s
paid?”
“No. They give him a
weight card, and he brings it here. We run it against the computer files to
verify it, and then we cut him a check. Why do you ask?”
“Mrs. Hatch was going
over her receipts Mr. Barnes brought to her, and she found she was missing
several years’ worth. She wanted me to come here and see if there was any way
you could send her copies of the receipts from the past three years.”
The man turned to his
computer. “The past three years?”
“Yes, sir.”
He tapped a few
buttons. “I don’t see an email address on file for Mrs. Hatch. Would you happen
to know it?”
Email address? Rather
than admit his ignorance of such a thing, Jonah made another suggestion.
“I’m sorry. I don’t
know what it would be. She instructed me to have you mail her those receipts.
Are you able to put them in the postal?”
Maitland gave him an
odd look which Jonah recognized. His peculiar use of certain phrases was often
forgiven because of his unusual accent. In this case, as it often was in the
past, his difference was dismissed.
The man nodded once.
“I can do that.”
Thanking him, Jonah
turned to leave when the man stopped him.
“Does she want both
sets of receipts for each year?”
“Both? Sets?”
“Yes. According to our
records, Mr. Barnes delivers two payloads every season. Does Mrs. Hatch want
both sets of receipts?”
“She didn’t mention
that to me,” Jonah honestly confessed. “I would say send her both, so I don’t
get yelled at.” He threw in a grin, and the man chuckled.
“I understand
completely, Mr. Cobb. I’ll get those printed out and in the mail today. She
should receive them no later than Friday.”
Thanking him again,
Jonah left the farm bureau before the man caught sight of his rising anger.
Two sets of
receipts? Since Clea had never mentioned the man paying her twice every year, there
was no longer any doubt in his mind that Barnes was paying Clea for one harvest
but not for the second one, which he pocketed fully. And thus her neighbor had
been depriving her of her fair share that way for quite some time.
“But I won’t mention
this to her. Not until the proof arrives in the mail.”
At that point,
whatever she wanted to do next, however she wanted to handle the news, he’d be
there by her side to back her up.
“This…is going to be
interesting,” he murmured as he returned to the parking lot to wait for her.
TO BE CONTINUED
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