Black Single Dad Went Looking for Work on a Farm — He Didn't Know a Millionaire Would Make Him Rich
Chapter 13
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Luke opened his door and stepped down into the rain."Evening, deputy," he said. "Is there a problem?""That's him," Wade said before Boyd could answer. "That's the one."Deputy Ray Boyd looked Luke over slowly from his boots to his face, the same way the man in the seed cap had looked at him that morning."Mr. Harland here says there's a cashbox missing from the farm office," Boyd said. "$1,800. The weekly payroll float."Luke felt the ground tilt under him. "I haven't been inside any office," he said. "I've been in that hayfield since 1:00. You can see the barn from here. It's full.""He was the only stranger on this property all day," Wade said. "Came up the drive with nothing, asking for handouts. Miss Vance felt sorry for him. I warned her.""I didn't ask anybody for a handout," Luke said. "I worked."Boyd held up one hand to quiet them both. "Mind if I take a look inside your vehicle, sir?"Luke hesitated for only a second. He had nothing to hide. He had never stolen a thing in his life, and he knew that refusing would only make this man more certain."Go ahead," he said. "My boy's in the cab. Let me get him out first."He lifted Toby down, wrapped him in the wool blanket, and set him under the shelter of the truck's open door. Toby clutched his wooden train and his sketch pad against his chest.Boyd leaned into the cab with a flashlight. He searched the glove compartment and found only the registration, the utility notice, and the envelope from the hospital. He checked behind the seat. Then he reached under the bench.When he straightened up, he was holding a gray metal cashbox. The lid was unlocked. Inside, rubber-banded stacks of bills sat in neat rows.The rain seemed to grow louder."That's not mine," Luke said. "I've never seen that box before in my life.""Funny," Wade said. "It sure seen you."Boyd set the cashbox on the hood of his cruiser. "Turn around, sir. Hands on the hood of your truck.""Deputy, somebody put that there. I've been in the field all day, and anybody could have walked up to this truck while I was gone.""Turn around," Boyd repeated.Luke looked at his son standing in the doorway of the truck with wide, frightened eyes. Every instinct in his body told him to argue, to explain, to make this man listen. But he had been a black man in rural Virginia for 33 years. He knew how quickly a misunderstanding on a dark road could become something worse, and he would not let his son see that.