Second Chance Ranch Chapter 30

Chapter THIRTY:

I’m headed out on the range until the weekend, Squire’s text read. Pete’s with me, and we just need a break from the fireworks this weekend. Just wanted you to know.

Kelly looked away from her phone as the light in front of her turned green. Her stomach had been swooping and somersaulting all morning, and now it calmed. 

Squire wouldn’t be on the ranch anyway. She couldn’t sneak onto the ranch in the pre-dawn light, carry as many folders as she could with a pounding pulse, and then flee every day. She really shouldn’t have done it yesterday, because she’d gone through everything before noon, and she didn’t have access to the computer system at home.

She supposed if the circumstances were different, she would’ve encouraged his campout. She would’ve been relieved. Now, it felt like he was the one running away, if only to give her a bit more space to work and breathe.

The last thing she wanted for him was a repeat of Saturday night after the rodeo. His wounds were too fresh, still bleeding.

Kelly realized hers were too. That was why she’d driven to the ranch at six a.m. and confiscated the files that now rode in her passenger seat. The steady drip, drip, drip of her broken and bleeding heart echoed through her body from top to bottom as she made the steady drive out to the ranch.

Once there, she entered the administration building, where Tom rose from his desk as she walked in. “Squire’s out on the range,” he said in his slow, Texan drawl. “He wanted you to know.”

“Thank you, Tom,” she said, flashing him the kindest smile he could. Tom nodded and sat back down, his job with her done for the day. Squire obviously hadn’t told him anything, because he whistled as he picked up an envelope that looked like it held a bill and sliced it open with his pocketknife.

She worked alone in her office, missing Squire more than she thought possible. She hadn’t realized how nice it was to speak whenever she wanted and have someone there to listen.

Not just someone.

Him.

At the same time she missed him, she found herself growing angry with him. He should’ve been man enough to tell her about the acceptance. Even without the money, they should’ve had that conversation. 

There were options for him to pay for his schooling, besides. Grants. Loans. The GI Bill. He didn’t have to find the money to go to veterinary school, and they both knew it. She could’ve helped him find other solutions. They could’ve been a team.

She felt like he’d robbed them of advancing emotionally together. Of helping each other stop the internal bleeding so they could each heal.

Over the next couple of days, she took over Squire’s job of looking for financial documents, then she did her task of organizing them where they should’ve been anyway, entering them into the computer, and trying to see a complete picture with only some of the pieces. 

By the end of the week, only a few folders remained in the final filing cabinet, and her heart held so much hope as she went through them. She’d found several papers that day in the last files, but she hadn’t put them in yet. She set to that task after lunch, a near-steady stream of prayer moving through her mind now.

Mid-afternoon, a knock interrupted her work. Tom stood in the doorway, holding a CD. He’d always treated her kindly, with respect. He didn’t let his gaze linger too long, like some of the other cowboys did.

“Hey, Miss Kelly.” He entered and set the disc on her desk. “I found this in Clark’s stuff. It says ‘Taxes’ on it.”

Her throat muscles clenched, making it impossible for her to speak. Her poor heart stuttered, hardly able to take any more afflictions.

“I thought you might need it.”

“Thank you,” she said, adding a smile to her words. But she felt like throwing up.

He tipped his hat and left, his cowboy boots thunking the way back to the general controller’s desk.

She hadn’t finished entering all the income into the computer yet, but maybe she wouldn’t have to. Maybe this CD contained everything she needed—including the bank account number where the missing money sat gathering loads of interest.

With shaking fingers, she pulled open the bottom desk drawer where she kept her purse. Beneath that sat an old CD-reader, and she’d have to connect it to her computer in order to see what was on this disc.

Her pulse plummeted. There was no way the things she needed were on this disc. It didn’t have a year on it, but it had to be old. There hadn’t been CD-disk readers in computers for a few years now.

Feeling helpless, she dusted off the piece of hardware and got it connected to her desktop. Kelly slid the disc into the reader, drumming her nails as she waited for it to spin.

For one terrible moment, she feared she’d reached yet another dead end. Something else that felt like hope but really was disappointment. 

Then the disc spun, and a window popped up on the screen. With her heart pounding, she scanned the five items. She fumbled for her phone and texted Squire, though she knew he likely wouldn’t get the message.

911! Come to my office ASAP!

Five folders sat on the disc, each labeled with the word “taxes” and a year. The missing five years of information.

Kelly’s stomach tightened, and it kept twisting and twisting. She’d always thought Clark was so nice, if a bit gruff and overly watchful. Could he be the one who’d stolen one-point-six million dollars from Three Rivers? From Frank and Heidi? From Squire?

She double-clicked on the Taxes 2010 folder, hardly daring to hope to find everything she needed inside.

Her breath caught in her throat. Three more folders sat there: Income, Forms, and Final Taxes.

She clicked on the folder labeled Income for that year. Inside, every piece of income was neatly organized. Digital copies of the statements they’d found in random places were labeled meticulously, so that Kelly knew immediately why the reported income on the hard copies of the tax returns didn’t match up.

One document was labeled “November, 2010, Oceanview Cattle Company (unfiled).” She clicked it open, didn’t recognize it, and sent it to the printer.

After printing everything labeled unfiled for 2010—a total of six documents—she compared them with what she and Squire had been able to locate. 

She entered them into her new spreadsheet, the one she’d been making for the past several weeks. With those six added invoices, the total now matched the reported income in the hard copies of the tax return for 2010.

The six newly printed documents showed that Three Rivers had actually brought in an additional four hundred ninety thousand dollars. She sat back in her chair, stunned. If blinking and breathing weren’t involuntary, she wouldn’t have done them.

This was a little over twenty-five percent of the missing money in one year. Siphoned away to someone else’s account. Reported on the Three Rivers Ranch taxes, but not accounted for in any of Frank or Heidi’s income. 

Just…gone.

Clark had been siphoning money from the cattle sales for five years. Several thousand dollars here, a complete sale—sometimes into six figures—there. Enough to total almost five hundred thousand dollars in a single year!

She grabbed her phone and dialed Squire, praying he was riding Juniper and they happened to be in a spot where he had cell service. Please, God. This can’t wait.

As she listened to his phone ring, she got up and threw a suspicious look down the hallway. It sat empty, the way it usually did.

Still, her heart pounded at her to secure everything. She had no idea who was in the trailer right now, and she hadn’t seen Clark at all this week. That didn’t mean he couldn’t waltz into her office at any given moment. Anyone could.

She flipped off the light, closed her office door, and locked it. She couldn’t have anyone walking in right now. Sourness spread through Kelly’s mouth and crowded her stomach, an odd sensation she couldn’t will away.

Squire didn’t answer, and desperation clogged her throat as she hurried to the window and looked outside. She half-expected Squire to come riding along on Juniper, but he didn’t.

She closed the blinds and set to work printing out the rest of the digital income documents in the remaining annual folders, cross-checking them with the paper items, and tallying up how much money Clark had failed to report.

One million, six hundred and thirty-seven thousand dollars and eighty-four cents. The exact amount that Kelly had discovered was missing.

She needed to talk to Squire. Now.

She texted him again. Found the missing documents. Come to my office.

She called him. No answer.

She paced the length of her office, the lights off and the door locked, unsure of what to do next. Where to go. 

Her thoughts raced in circles. She didn’t want to leave for the weekend without talking to Squire. She couldn’t. She needed to show him all of this so there’d be a second witness. So she wouldn’t have to shoulder it alone. 

She swallowed to ease the thickness pressing against her tongue. Squire was unreachable. She didn’t know how to get to him, short of walking onto the range with a prayer in her heart that the Lord would guide her feet in the right direction.

She thought of Finn, and decided against putting herself in danger. If she got lost on the range and something happened to her….

Kelly headed out to Tom’s desk. “Do you know where Squire and Pete went? Like, is there somewhere on the range they’re likely to be?”

“There’s a cabin in sector twelve,” he said. “They were going to check on that for me, but they might’ve done that first. I don’t rightly know, Miss Kelly.” He peered at her with concern in his eyes. “Is everything okay?”

“No,” she said. “I need to speak with Squire immediately. It’s a matter of extreme importance.”

Tom stood, his dark eyes serious at once. “I’ll get Frank, and we’ll go find ‘im.”

Kelly checked her watch. How long could she afford to wait? She’d promised Finn she’d take him to Crystal’s for dinner and a sleep over.

“I have to get home for my son,” she said, noting that it was already half-past five. She should’ve left thirty minutes ago. “Please call me as soon as you find him.”

“Will do.” Tom headed for the door, and Kelly lunged after him. 

“Tom, wait.” She caught his arm, and he turned back to her. She glanced around the trailer, glad it was empty. She swallowed. “Uh, don’t tell anyone but Frank, okay? Not Ethan, or Beau, or Clark.”

He tilted his head, obviously wanting to ask some follow-up questions. “Does this have anything to do with that CD I brought you?”

“I just need to talk to Squire,” Kelly said. “And no one else needs to know about what or why.” She lifted her head. “It is very important, though, so I’d appreciate you getting Frank and finding his son as soon as you can.”

Tom nodded, his mouth now drawn into a new, determined line. “Yes, ma’am. I’ve got your number.”

“Thank you.” Kelly hurried back to her office. She tucked the CD into the side pocket of her purse—the only one that zipped closed. She scooped up all the printed documents and all the income documents she and Squire had found and stuffed them in the bottom of her bag, then covered them with her lunch box.

Standing in the doorway of her office, she decided not to lock it down or put everything away. She never had before, and she didn’t want Clark stopping by and finding something to raise his suspicions.

Her footsteps felt like loud bombs as she crossed the metal and went down the stairs to the dirt parking lot. She was sure someone was going to grab her and burn all the documents before she could prove what had been going on. 

Her stomach felt as sick now as it had this morning, but for an entirely different reason. How could Clark live with these people, day after day, knowing that he’d wronged them?

No one intercepted her getting in the car, and Kelly started the engine and backed out of her spot. She dialed Squire one last time as she pulled onto the highway. He didn’t answer, which only fueled her irritation and frustration.

“Squire,” she said to his voicemail. “It’s Kelly. Please call me as soon as you get this. I have so much to show you. I have it all; not at my office. I’m taking Finn to my cousin’s tonight, but come by my house anytime.”

She drew in a deep breath and blew it out. “Anytime at all.”

* * *

The next morning, Squire still hadn’t responded, called, texted, or shown up. She worried her lip while Finn ate breakfast, while she helped her mother hang the laundry in the backyard.

She couldn’t believe Squire had chosen now of all times to disappear, despite the Fourth of July holiday that brought such strong reactions. He seemed to have a knack for walking away without much of an explanation.

Her worry turned to anger, and then resentment. She didn’t have time to waste with a man who couldn’t respond to a phone call or a text. Who couldn’t stick to what he’d said. He’d told her he’d be out on the range until the weekend. It was the weekend, for crying out loud.

And these weren’t needy calls and messages. This was business—his business. Matters he should care about.

Her resentment faded back to concern. Maybe something had happened to him out on the range. This was wild Texas, after all, and just because the ranch had fences around it didn’t mean it wasn’t dangerous.

Her stomach knotted when she thought about him out in the middle of the wilderness, coming face-to-face with Clark. The only consolation she had was that Pete had gone with him.

She oscillated between wanting to give him a piece of her mind and hugging him fiercely next time she saw him.

If she saw him again. Maybe she should quit while she was ahead, lay everything out for Heidi and Frank, then get another job, and end her communication with Squire. That piece of her heart that she’d given to him felt like a huge hole in her chest, and she realized that whether she liked it or not, he now owned her whole heart.