Second Chance Ranch Chapter 37

Chapter THIRTY-SEVEN:

Squire looked at the trail of documents on Collin’s desk. “I think I got it.”

His friend turned and lowered his phone. The dark-haired man was just as positive as he’d always been, and he grinned when Squire was sure people didn’t do that anymore. The storm cloud over his head wouldn’t allow it anyway.

“I can get the signed affidavit,” he said. “And come with you to the bank.”

“Really?” Squire straightened, his eyes going wide. “So the DA thinks it’s all a match too.”

“It is a match.” Collin looked down on their single best piece of evidence. The police department in Three Rivers had sent him a picture of the handwriting on the CD they knew belonged to Clark Paxton.

It matched other letters and handwriting on checks he’d deposited into an account here in Amarillo, some with the exact dollar amounts as those checks.

They had one check, and it had a sloppy rendition of Squire’s dad’s signature. He’d quickly called his mother for the real one, and it didn’t match at all.

That same check had been deposited through the mobile app, and Clark had written, “For mobile deposit at The Panhandle State Bank,” which had given them four of the five letters in “Taxes” from the CD. They all matched to a near perfect degree. 

The amount totaled the same as the sum Kelly had discovered was missing. He had the files on the CD, some clearly labeled “unfiled.” 

Collin had been convinced pretty early on, but they’d gone over it and over it so Squire could lay everything out for the bank. Collin had then called his boss to see if they could get something legal to show him as well.

“We just need to stop by the office and get it.” Collin clapped Squire on the back, and they gazed at the immaculate line of paperwork Squire had laid out an hour ago.

“I’m afraid to move it,” he said. “What if I can’t recreate it at the bank?”

“You can,” Collin said. “Pack it up. Let’s go. Our meeting is in forty-five minutes.”

The bank manager saw them promptly, and Squire’s pulse boomed through his whole body as he entered the office ahead of Collin. The bank manager wore a stuffy black suit and a handlebar mustache that made him at once at odds with himself. 

“You said you have a problem with one of our accounts.” He looked from Collin to Squire. “And you brought a lawyer.”

“Two,” Squire said as his daddy rushed into the office with another man in tow. “My father, Frank Ackerman. Our legal counsel….”

“Ted Goldman,” the man said. 

“This is Aaron Whittle,” Squire said, nodding to the bank manager. They all sat, and all eyes came to Squire. He hated the spotlight as much as he’d worked for it in the Army and on the football field.

He met his father’s eyes and noted the hope there. He looked at Collin, who smiled and nodded.

He gazed down at the folder in his lap. Everything sat inside, given to him by Kelly, his daddy, or Collin. He wasn’t alone here. They were all with him, as was the Lord.

“Sir,” he said. “There’s an account here at your bank belonging to a Cynthia Miller.” He cleared his throat and opened the folder. Out came the first statement. “It has an extreme amount of money in it, and we believe that money was embezzled from Three Rivers Ranch over the course of the past five years and placed into this bogus account.”

He placed the statement on Mister Whittle’s desk. 

“I have supporting proof of this,” Ted said. He pulled out a paper from his briefcase and set it next to Squire’s. “Cynthia Miller as outlined on this account doesn’t exist. That’s a known stolen social security number, and the address is bogus.” 

Mister Whittle picked up the two pieces of paper and examined them, his bushy eyebrows pulling down to make a unibrow. 

“Cynthia Miller under that ID died forty-one years ago,” Squire’s father said. 

“I have a signed affidavit from the District Attorney here in Amarillo that says the money in that account belongs to Three Rivers Ranch.” Squire’s memory fired at him, and he knew exactly what to say and how to say it. “We have the exact dates of transactions, amounts of deposits, and even a canceled check made out to the ranch that was deposited into this embezzlement account.”

The bank manager picked up the affidavit, then the canceled check, as well as the other invoices and their corresponding bank statement that showed identical deposits.

He studied them for entirely too long, as if he could prove whether the four men across from him were lying or not just by looking. When he looked up, he seemed a bit shell-shocked.

“We have handwriting experts at the DA’s office,” Collin said. “It’s not official, but I have someone who can make it so. He says the handwriting on the CD that’s been proven to belong to Clark Paxton is the same as the handwriting on the mobile-deposited checks.”

“Not a Cynthia Miller,” Squire said. 

After what felt like a very long time, the bank manager finally set the documents aside. “It certainly seems like what you’re saying is true. An account of this size will have to be frozen while we do an investigation.”

He surveyed the group in front of him. “I’m assuming you have charges against this Mister Paxton?” 

“Yes,” Squire’s dad said. “We filed in the city of Three Rivers for fraud and embezzlement.” 

“We expect Mister Paxton to get an attorney,” Ted-the-attorney said. “But when we show him the avalanche of evidence—and that we’ve found the money—we don’t expect anything to last long.”

“We’ll have to check every deposit,” Mister Whittle said. “If it came from where you said it did, I can’t see why we’d refute it.”

“We just want the money out of this fraudulent account and back where it belongs,” Squire said.

Mister Whittle nodded. “We all want the same thing,” he said as he leaned forward and started tapping on his computer. “I’ll get it frozen and flagged for investigation.”

“Aaron,” Collin said as he leaned forward too. He waited until the bank manager met his eye. “Put a priority on it, would you? Ranchers are the lifeblood of Texas, and I want everyone to know they can’t do this to good people.”

Mister Whittle swallowed and nodded, and Squire started collecting all of his evidence. He gave it all to his father’s lawyer, who’d recorded the conversation too.

“Let’s open an account for Three Rivers here,” Mister Whittle said. “It’ll be so much easier to transfer the money to that account once the investigation is concluded. You can then move it anywhere you want after that.”

Squire met his father’s eye, and they both raised their eyebrows at the same time. Squire grinned, and Daddy blinked, which was about like a smile for him

He turned back to the banker, and he said, “All right. My son will handle all of that, as he’s going to be taking over ownership of the ranch.”

“Daddy.”

“You are,” his dad said. “I’m retiring, and your name will be on the papers.” He nodded to the banker. “Squire is in charge.”

Squire loved the confidence and pride in his father’s voice. He wanted to live up to everything his daddy believed he could. He wanted to be the son his parents deserved. He wanted to be a champion for Kelly and Finn. He wanted to be the type of man God needed him to be.

Usually, these types of thoughts crushed him, because they felt impossible. But today, sitting in the bank manager’s office while he set up a new account for Three Rivers Ranch that only Squire would have access to, he felt like he could be his father’s son. He could be Kelly’s husband and Finn’s daddy. He could be the child of God he should be.

When it was finally finished, Squire left the bank with his buddy and his daddy, once again squinting into the sunshine like he’d never seen it before.

His father pulled him into a hug, and tears pricked Squire’s eyes as they embraced. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” he said gruffly. “We have enough to retire with. You have enough for school and even a small living wage. It’ll all work out.”

Squire pulled back and wiped his face. “We have no idea how long they’ll freeze that account.”

“I’ll keep on them if it takes too long,” Collin promised. Squire grabbed onto him too, hugged him hard, and bid him farewell for now. 

“With the interest, Daddy, that account has almost two million dollars in it.”

“I saw the statement.” His father pushed his hat lower. “Ted, you’ll be in touch?”

“Yes, sir,” the lawyer said.

“Lunch?” his father asked. 

Squire nodded. “I just need a couple of minutes to think, but I promise I won’t head for the Oklahoma state line.” He smiled, mostly to himself, glad when his father chuckled and returned the gesture.

“New foreman?” Daddy asked. “I’m afraid to suggest someone.”

Squire understood the feeling, but he didn’t want to distrust everyone in his life. “It should be someone new,” he said. “Tom’s amazing. He could do it, but I think he likes being the controller.”

His father nodded, and said, “Meet you at Texas Tacos?” 

“Yes, sir,” he said. “I’m gonna call Chelsea real quick.”

“I’ll call Momma.” His father moved down the street to his truck, and Squire went to the side lot to get in his. His fingers flew across the screen so he could update his sister with what had happened in the past twenty-four hours. He’d left her about the same place as Kelly, and he’d need to call her too.

Or rather, her mother, as her phone had been broken, and she didn’t have a new one yet that he knew of. He opened his door, sent the text to Chelsea, and sighed as he sank to the seat.

“You know, you should check your vehicle before entering it.”

Squire yelped and dropped his phone. Kelly sat in his cab, and he hadn’t even seen her.

“Kelly,” he said, his heart now pounding for a different reason. “What are—? I mean, what in the world is going on?”

She tossed her honey-colored hair over her shoulder and glanced at him with a teasing edge in those pretty eyes. “I can’t believe you don’t lock your truck. We’re in the city.”

Squire cocked his head, his adrenaline still spiraling through him. “Then I wouldn’t have pretty women waiting for me in my truck.” He could hardly believe she was here.

She was here. This was huge.

“Oh, this happens a lot?” She shifted toward him and scanned him from head to toe. “And you’re not even wearing your uniform.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “We found the money, darlin’. All of it. Plus interest.”

Something that looked like fear crossed her face. She wiped it away quickly with one of her dazzling smiles. “Enough for veterinarian school?”

He nodded, unable to convey all he was feeling in words. Joy. Love. Hope. Fear. More love. “I mean, it’s frozen right now, but we have lawyers. It won’t take long, they say.”

“Enough for retirement?” she asked.

“Plus some.”

She slid a fraction of an inch closer to him on the bench seat. “And your plans are?”

His gaze flickered to her mouth and back to her eyes. “I’m going to help my father hire a new foreman. Someone new to the ranch completely. They’ve got that condo that’ll be done this fall. I’m pretty sure my sister is going to come babysit the house and ranch while I’m gone. I’m going to find my parents a great financial planner so they don’t have to worry about anything.”

Her eyebrows slanted into a crease he wanted to erase the moment it arrived. “But what are your plans?”

“I’m going to officially accept the offer from Texas A&M for their veterinary program. I’m going to apply for my GI Bill to help pay for it.” A flush rose through his face, but he refused to look anywhere but into her eyes. “I’m going to start looking for a new accountant for Three Rivers, because our current one is hopefully going to be moving to College Station.”

He slid closer to her, not too close to crowd but definitely near enough to convey his intentions. “That is, if she’ll come. Her, and her cute son, and of course, I’ll be taking Benson. You know, all the people I love.”

He touched her pinky with his. “I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you. I won’t do that again, I swear. No secrets between us.”

“No secrets,” she said.

“I’m in love with you,” he said. “I have been since I was sixteen years old.”

She closed the distance between them, her arms going around his shoulders as she said, “I love you too, Squire.”

As he brought his mouth to hers, he didn’t think there were any better words in the world. A moment later, he broke the kiss. “Is that a yes? Will you marry me? Will you and Finn come with me to College Station?”

“Yes.” She kissed him again. “And yes.”