Four Stored Cameras Became Exhibits In My Husband's Trial

The courtroom clerk asked me to leave my service bag beside Nora before I took the stand.

I pressed the three white stitches once and let go.

Chue had chosen a trial before a judge. There were no jurors to watch, only the judge, the lawyers, and two rows of people who had once shared our holiday meals.

Lena and Adam sat together.

The prosecutor started with my work.

“What did the county hire you to provide?”

“Working cameras and regular service records. Clean lenses. Good batteries. Correct aim and time settings.”

“Who held the award?”

“Mai Yang, doing business as Yang Wildlife Camera Service.”

She asked me to identify the original document.

I recognized my signature and the small ink mark where I had tested the pen. Esther had made a joke about the county buying pens that didn't write. I had kept the signed pages anyway.

Now the clerk marked them as an exhibit.

The prosecutor showed the price amendment, the removal receipt, and my field sheets. I explained how each unit's serial number followed it from the highway to the storage cage.

“Could those four cameras have been inspected at their former roadside sites in June?”

“No. They were in boxes.”

Chue's lawyer stood for questions.

“You trusted your husband with business tasks for years?”

“Yes.”

“You gave him access to the invoice system?”

“Yes.”

“So he reasonably believed he could act for you?”

“He could upload my approved invoices. He couldn't change the number of cameras I serviced.”

“You weren't present every time he worked at the computer.”

“No.”

“Then you can't know every service he arranged.”

“I know where the four cameras were. I helped put them there.”

He moved to another page.

“Why didn't you stop the payments sooner?”

“I hadn't seen where they went. He told me the notices meant the county had approved bills but hadn't paid yet.”

“And you believed that?”

“For too long. Then I asked the payment bank.”

My face felt hot. I let it. Trusting him had cost me something, but being ashamed of it wouldn't change the deposit dates or put those cameras back beside the road.

I answered what he asked. When I didn't know, I said so. I didn't tell him what Chue must have thought. The records could carry what I couldn't.

Esther testified about the authority sheet and the direct verification that should have happened before finance accepted the account change. She acknowledged the county's failure to link the price amendment to the invoices.

“Did that failure authorize false charges?” the prosecutor asked.

“No.”

“Did marriage grant Mr. Yang authority under this award?”

“No.”

A bank witness authenticated the payment records. The equipment clerk identified the storage log. Paul explained his inspection and the matching serial numbers.

No single person had to remember everything.

Lorna testified on the second day. Her plea agreement was placed before the court, including the fact that she hoped her cooperation would help at sentencing.

She looked at the water pitcher while she spoke.

“Chue said Mai wouldn't check the payment account,” she said. “He said she wanted to stay outside all day and let him deal with the important things.”

The prosecutor asked about the four removed cameras.

“I knew by April,” Lorna said. “He showed me the storage picture.”

“Why did you keep receiving five thousand dollars?”

“Because we wanted the money.”

There it was. No protection. No complicated family duty.

The prosecutor presented messages in which Lorna questioned the missing units and Chue told her to keep billing ten. Other evidence linked him to the submitted bank-change form and shutdown request.

When Chue testified, he called the money a household reserve.

“Why was it held by Rim Draw?” the prosecutor asked.

“For management.”

“What management work did it buy?”

He named calls, planning, and worry.

“And the eight thousand dollars paid to you as rent?”

“I worked from home.”

“Where was the lease?”

He looked at his lawyer.

I looked at the wood rail in front of me. Someone had worn a pale groove into it with years of waiting hands.

The judge took the case under review. A week later, we returned for the verdict.

She found Chue guilty of theft by deception and forgery. She explained that the false signatures, known removal dates, payment trail, and messages supported intent. Repayment mattered, but it didn't undo the acts.

Sentencing would follow after a report on his background and the losses.

Outside, Chue said my name. Nora guided me toward the exit before he could make it a command.

That evening, she forwarded a letter from his lawyer.

Chue wanted me to speak for him at sentencing. He had written the sentence he wanted me to say: He was only trying to protect me.