Page 64 of Cruel Expectations

She’d located his hotel expenses, and airfare too if it applied. Those tracked with costs and fees. As did his food bills and vehicle rentals.

When she began digging around for answers about the ranch finances, she quickly learned that she was locked out of the bank website. But if she was going to get to the bottom of this, she needed access.

She pulled up the website. The passcode was not saved on the laptop. Was it possible to guess it?

First, she tried her father’s birthday. Then her mother’s. Crap—both incorrect.

She had one more attempt before she was locked out and would need to reset the password. That was a pain she didn’t have time for.

Tapping a nail on the desk, she racked her brain to think of what the password could be.

Surely her father would not use any of his kids’ names or birthdates.

A favorite sports team?

His favorite dog! It had to be. Her father loved their old German Shephard more than anything. When it passed away, he had moped around the house for weeks.

Hovering her fingers over the keys, she battled with her gut feeling. Could she really rely on that?

Quickly, she set her fingers to the keys and typed: Rocky.

The website opened.

Jaw dropping, she let out a little squeal and quickly set to work.

She flipped between the bank statement open on one screen and the spreadsheet on another, comparing the debits around the time when her father attended these conventions, and noted a cash withdrawal for a thousand dollars.

Daddy did like to carry cash. He was old-school—he claimed that he didn’t trust card machines that could be so easily scanned and his digital money stolen.

Two days later, there was a second withdrawal for twenty thousand dollars.

If the ranchers attending those conventions weren’t always buying horses off each other without the red tape of an auction, the big withdrawal might be a red flag to her.

By the end of the week, another large amount appeared.

She initially hadn’t inspected these closer due to the large expenses around the time of a convention. Now she looked closer. Several times her father visited the ATM and pulled out the maximum amount for the day.

He was blowing through pretty heavy money.

His following entries were travel home, including restaurant payments. For the next two weeks’ worth of entries, Ivy only saw spending in local businesses.

She paused on several consecutive rather large cash withdrawals.

Why was her father taking out so much? Was he hooking up with a woman who was draining him dry? Or paying for escorts?

Damn. Maybe.

She looked up one of the place names listed on the statement. It sounded like it could be a gas station or convenience store.

What came up in the internet search had her eyes widening.

A casino.

Ivy shielded her eyes with one hand. No. Her father couldn’t be gambling. Some conventions were held at casinos. That had to be the case.

Another search revealed that all of the conventions this past year were held at hotels and other big convention centers. Not casinos.

She issued a low sound, almost a whimper.

---