For eighteen-year-old Will Hulst, life should have been relatively uncomplicated. Raised in a strictly religious home, he struggled with the usual questions of youth; seemingly unanswerable questions about life and faith. Now he stands accused of a murder he did not commit. Only one person truly believes in his innocence, Barb Prescott a bright young attorney assigned to his defense, she has been assigned a case that on the surface appears indefensible. As Barb begins her defense she uncovers mounting evidence pointing to a cover-up and is drawn deeper and deeper into a web that involves, the local Police Chief out to satisfy a vow of revenge made decades before, a prominent businessman who will do anything to protect his illegitimate empire, and her love for a young Deputy that could destroy her career. Will's only hope for acquittal lies with a former girl friend (Crystal Simpson) a girl he had shunned and embarrassed, a witness who has mysteriously disappeared. The book is filled with a rich tapestry of characters, that struggle with their own emotions and feelings; interwoven with a series of twists and turns, that all lead to a stunning and unexpected conclusion, as they are inexplicably drawn into a tangled "Web Of Innocence"

Web of Innocence

By Henry Klooster

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2012 Henry Klooster
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4685-8884-2

Chapter One

Fall had come early. It had been the last week of August, when the geese had begun their long flight south over the amber fields. They had been lucky to get the crops. Jacob Hulst had been ready. The combine had been tuned and greased, and when the first day of Indian summer, had called an uneasy truce with winter, they had worked around the clock. Winter had threatened on the last day, but the truce had held, and the bins had been filled.

Now winter, as unwelcome as it was had settled over the landscape.

Will Hulst turned up the collar on his worn wool suit, and shivered. At seventeen he had not fully come to grips with life, and now faced with death, he felt lonely, confused and empty.

"Dust to dust...." the preachers monotone voice droned, as he addressed the small group gathered at the graveside.

Will Hulst stood six feet tall. His mop of sandy brown hair, and broad shoulders had earned him more than a second glance from the girls at Hammond High. He stood in contrast to his stone-faced, somber father, suit bulging on his short stalky frame. He had staunchly refused to buy a new suit for the funeral.

Jacob Hulst was a deeply religious man not set on airs, and his word was law. "The Lord looks at the inside, not at any external trappings." He had firmly stated, and his frail wife had complied knowing better than to question his judgment. In keeping with his wishes she had donned her faded green coat, not willing to incur his wrath by asking for a new one.

"The Lord is my shepherd...." the preachers voice droned on, distant and hollow.

The morning had broken with a dull gray pallor, the clouds driving the thin red glow of sunrise from the sky. The wind that had for days lain whimpering beyond the horizon had suddenly pounced on the landscape, spitting ice needle sleet in its fury.

Will looked around at the small group of mourners that had braved the weather and gathered to pay their last respects to Oma Hulst. The gaping grave stared heavenward; it's cold darkness ready to envelop her lifeless body. He shivered. The cold gnawed at his ankles, left exposed by his too short suit pants. The wind cut through his thread-bare suit, cold as death.

His thoughts turned to Oma. He would miss her, her kind smile, and her quiet strength; the tender words of encouragement, his mother never gave. Oma had been his strength, his source of joy in another wise harsh world. Life at home was hard. Jacob Hulst was a gruff, unemotional, domineering man. Millie his mother lacked affection and emotion; diligently catering to Jacob's every need. She had been different once, before Will's older brother Jan had left home. Jan was her favorite. Now most of her attention seemed to be focused on Beth, Will's younger sister. But Oma had always been there. She understood. Although she had never said anything to discredit her son and his wife, Will knew she understood.

Life for Oma had not been easy. She had immigrated along with her husband, from the marshlands of Holland shortly after the end of the war. They had settled with their three children, one son and two daughters, on a homestead just outside the town of Hammond. The first years in a new land had proved difficult, and by the third year her husband had been forced to seek employment to supplement the meager income the homestead yielded. He had found a job with the railroad, and was gone for months at a time. With the help of her son, they had plowed and planted, the crop in the hand cleared meadow, south of the house. Word had come in the late summer that her husband had been killed working the trains. Despite the set back Oma had carried on.

In time the homestead had become productive, and when Jacob married, he had taken over.

The small group had begun to sing "Abide with Me". Jacob Hulst glowered at Will, silently chastising him for not singing along. Will joined in. When the song ended the small group began to disperse. Will stared at the gaping ground. Oma gone forever. Forever! He felt the firm grasp of his father's hand on his shoulder. As he turned to follow his father, the workmen began lowering the casket into the ground. He fought back the tears. The loneliness, the emptiness and the sudden realization of his loss turned in him like a dull knife. He could show no emotion. His father had said that Oma had gone to a better place, a place they could only hope for, a place of eternal joy and peace before the face of God. There was no room for sadness and tears. Although she would be missed the assurance of her eternal joy should bring joy and peace to those left behind. Sorrow had no place, only quiet reflection.

It puzzled Will. Did no one care? How could they not be sad? How could they not cry? Did they not feel the pain he felt? But for now there would be no tears, they would come later when he was alone.

"Come on son, its time for chores." Jacob took his wife's hand and made his way to the old Ford. The car sputtered and lurched as if it too was in grief.

As he sat in the backseat, Will's thoughts once more turned to Oma. He had been present when she died. He had gone to visit her as he did every day only that day had been different. She hadn't been feeling well for some time, but this day he had felt a cold shiver as he approached the house. On entering he had noticed that the stove had not been lit. Oma had been lying on the bed, her body racked with fever. He knew instantly he had come too late. He had thought of going for help, but realized it would be futile. She clasped his hand, her life slowly ebbing away. "I'm ready." She had whispered thickly, her eyes dull. He had clung to her then, hoping, praying, to no avail. She shuddered; her breath coming in short raspy bursts. Then she had gone limp. Will had let go, and as he did he saw a glow pass over her face, and a smile form on her lips. She had seen the gates of heaven opened, and he, Will had been there to see it. It had been her parting gift to him, a gift that left him confused and filled with questions.

Her death had left him empty and cheated. What loving God would take away someone so pure and sweet, someone so loving? Did God not know that she was his strength? What was he to do now? His father had been no help. He didn't have any answers for the questions either, just empty platitudes and vague explanations.

The old two-story farmhouse was almost invisible against the pale sky, as they drove up the narrow driveway. No one had spoken on the way home, each one seemed lost in his or her own private grief. Beth, who had earlier in the day been filled with questions, too was silent, staring blankly out of the car window.

Once inside, Millie dutifully put on the coffee, and Jacob disappeared into the bedroom to change his clothes, as did Will. Beth overwhelmed by the events of the day curled up on the couch and was soon sound asleep.

"I want you to bring a load of hay over to the main barn, we're almost out, and if it starts to snow, it could be a few days before we can get to the stack." Jacob Hulst poured his steaming coffee into his saucer and took a sip. "Make sure the horses have enough straw and hay down. It could get cold tonight." He continued. He turned his now empty cup over onto his saucer, signaling he wanted no more.

The sleet that had been falling earlier in the day had stopped and the wind had shifted to the northeast, as Will stepped outside. "Dad's right, it could get cold tonight." He...