Page 21 of The Hampton Beach Café 6
“I know that feeling,” she said quietly. “I just need to know, Vincent's art—you're legitimately interested in his work, right? It wasn't a ruse?”
“No!” she insisted. “I loved his work before any of this nonsense started! I swear.”
She was convinced and glad when Hayley suggested they pop into the bathroom for Lauren to patch up her makeup and calm down.
Turning to Alex, Frances wanted to say several things, but she surprised herself when what actually came out of her mouth was, “…is Malcolm really the seventeenth most common name in the States?”
Alex laughed. “No, it’s like, the nine-hundredth, but I figured she wouldn’t know that, and it sounded better to be in the top twenty.”
She stared in disbelief. “Okay, but how do you know that!?”
He stared back at her, a mischievous grin across his face. “Same way I know most of my useless information. I get bored and look stuff up online.”
THIRTEEN
Frances and Lucinda settled down in the corner of the store room that they had turned into a cozy office at the café. It had started with a small desk they had found in the old shed and a spare chair from downstairs but had slowly become a kind of instant refuge. They were preparing for a video call with Adam, the accountant. Frances knew they needed answers regarding the financial mess Clarkson's actions had left them in, but she wasn't quite sure she was ready for the conversation.
As if sensing her anxiety, Lucinda placed a hand on her shoulder.
“It's going to be okay,” she said calmly.
Looking over at her friend, Frances couldn't exactly say she agreed, but she appreciated the gesture.
As the video call connected, Adam's face appeared on the screen, wearing a concerned expression that did nothing to help Frances relax.
“Frances, Lucinda, I've looked into the situation regarding the loans and applications that Clarkson submitted,” he began, adjusting his glasses and not even saying hello.
Her stomach dropped, and Frances leaned forward, her brow furrowing with worry.
“Tell us what you found.”
Adam sighed, seeming to choose his words carefully.
“Unfortunately, it appears that Clarkson used your signature on those applications. Even if we can prove that they were fraudulent, the problem is that the money was still used for the renovations on the café that he stated they were for. The debt is entirely in your name, Frances.”
Frances felt a knot tighten in her stomach. She had hoped that there would be some way to untangle herself from the financial burden caused by Clarkson's crime, but with every word Adam spoke, she felt that hope slipping away.
“But I didn't authorize any of those loans. There must be something we can do.”
Adjusting his glasses again, Adam nodded sympathetically.
“I understand the frustration, Frances. We can certainly explore legal avenues to prove the fraudulent nature of the applications. However, even if we succeed, it may not entirely absolve you of the debt. The fact remains that the funds were used for the café—you'll have a hard time proving that you were unaware of the money being spent.”
“Clarkson told me they were volunteers, that he had leftover supplies from old renovations!”
“That may well be true, but arguing to a jury that you don't want to pay back a loan that was provably used to renovate your business will be—"
Holding up a hand to stop him, Lucinda interjected, her voice filled with concern and laced with anger.
“But how can Frances be held accountable for something she didn't do? There has to be some way to protect her.”
The beleaguered accountant sighed again. His expression was apologetic but his voice, calm and sure.
“I'll do my best to find a solution, but I need you to be prepared for the possibility that you may still be responsible for the debt. We can work on consolidating the loan into something with a respectable interest rate and negotiating repayment terms—as well as exploring potential legal recourse, but it will be a challenging process. You might be best to consolidate now, save a few weeks at these hideous interest rates. But I'll speak to a lawyer first—a friend who owes me a favor. Don't worry about the fees.”
“Won't that just make her look like she's in on it?” Lucinda asked. “Consolidating?”
With a sigh, Frances shook her head. “No…he's right. Waiting could cost me thousands in fees and interest…and I can't imagine a judge being sympathetic to my not wanting to pay for the renovations we're currently making money from.”
