Page 36 of Silent Deception
He’d changed so much.
Not just the limp when he walked or the way he favored that damaged shoulder. Even when he was simply conversing, there was a weariness in his eyes that didn’t fade. But now...he seemed to carry the weight of the world.
She spilled some store cookies onto a plate and set them on the table, retrieved two mugs from the cupboard, and poured the coffee. “Please, have a seat.”
He tipped his head in acknowledgment, but simply stood behind a chair with his hands resting on the back. “I had a long talk with Garrett, and I’m not exactly sure where to start.”
“Sit. Eat a cookie.” She managed a smile, even though her stomach was tied in knots. “You’ll feel better.”
“Trevor took off for a horse sale this morning. Valentina had already made plans for Cody to come over, so she wouldn’t let Hayden go. He was upset, but that doesn’t excuse his behavior.” Ryan snorted with disgust. “He walked off after Cody arrived. He found his uncle Garrett and said things he shouldn’t have—things that Cody must have overheard, because Garrett saw the boy run out of the barn.”
“Kids can be cruel sometimes. Maybe the boys can just talk it over.”
“It’s not that simple.” Ryan splayed his fingers on the back of the chair, then pulled it out and sat down to face her across the table. “Hayden told Garrett he’d overheard his mom and dad arguing about Cody’s grandfather. Hayden would’ve been just seven when Nate worked at the ranch, so I’m sure he hadn’t realized until then that Cody and Nate were related.”
“Dad worked for Clint off and on through the years. They had some business deals together, too, but I think all of them went south.” She shook her head. “Even at his funeral, I heard whispers about my dad being ‘in Clint’s pocket,’ but I’ll never believe that he would do anything underhanded.” She blushed as she realized what she’d just said to Clint’s own son. “Er...sorry.”
“Isn’t anything I haven’t heard before.” Ryan shrugged. “Our foreman took off, leaving the financial records in a mess. Leland tried to sort it out before your dad was hired. Nate stayed on just a few months until he quit...or was fired.” Ryan cradled his cup in both hands and studied the steaming liquid. “I’m not sure who said the words first, but Adelfa says they had quite an argument.”
“So Hayden talked about Nate being fired?” That could hurt, she knew. Though Cody and his grandfather had never been close, it could still feel like a personal attack to hear those words about your own flesh and blood. “That’s not so bad, really.”
Ryan’s eyes met hers. “After your father left this ranch, Leland brought in a forensic accountant to try to figure out the books. Records were missing or altered, but the guy figured your father embezzled at least sixty grand in four short months. Cody overheard that.”
Kristin’s heart faltered. “That’s...that’s impossible. My father was an honest man, and he had nothing. Almostnothingin his bank accounts when he died. He drove a beat-up old truck. Even if he considered it, he’d have known that Clint and Leland would keep a close eye on things.”
“Or...he might have figured that with the state the financial records were in, it would be much easier to filter more away. The losses might still appear to be Oscar’s errors coming to light.”
Her anger flared. “So you think my father was guilty? Where’s your proof? Where are the police reports—the investigations?” She stood abruptly and braced herself against the table. “Why didn’t I ever hear a thing about this? Or was it hushed up because your own father has a few things that ought not be revealed?”
Ryan lifted his hands in a placating motion. “Please—sit down, okay?”
She pushed away from the table and stalked across the room, then pivoted and came back to the table, her arms crossed. “Where is all that money, then? My father died just a few weeks after he left the Four Aces. He barely had enough money to cover his funeral.”
“Clint hired a private investigator, as well as the forensic accountant.” Ryan’s tone was regretful. “The PI discovered a bank account in another small town, set up for an agricultural spraying business that doesn’t exist. The deposits were always under ten grand...and cash withdrawals were made several thousand at a time. There may have been other accounts he hasn’t been able to trace yet.”
“You’re wrong about my dad, and I’m going to prove it.” Kristin glared at him, even though her heart was breaking. “Furthermore, I don’t believe his death was an accident. With everything I’ve just heard, I’m even more sure. Now you tell me—who would want my father dead?”
* * * *
RUNNING A HAND OVERhis face to check for stubble, Clint scowled at his dim image in the mirror. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. He’d worked hard all his life, for Pete’s sake. He’d done right by his family. His constituents. He sat in his own pew at church every Sunday when he was in town, rain or shine, listening to Pastor Anderson’s interminable sermons, determined to be an example to the community and his family.
He deserved better than bad eyes and a family that had gone haywire.
Right now Garrett was probably sleeping off another party at the Saddle Up...unless he’d crashed at Trip Dooley’s sleazy Rise and Shine Motel on the edge of town.
The thought of his young son living that life made his stomach roil. The thought of him riding bulls was even worse.
Ryan had defied Clint almost from birth and had a way of staring Clint down as if he was dissecting every last flaw. Trevor was solid—a hard worker—but without imagination or brains.
But Garrett...
His favorite son. Garrett had inherited Clint’s ambition and drive, his mother’s charm. He’d chosen to throw away every golden opportunity rather than give up his obsession with rodeo, but one of these days he’d wake up and realize just how much time he was wasting. And then there’d be no stopping him.If the right person was still there to guide him.
Which was why Clint had finally agreed to his doctor’s appointment today.
Cursing under his breath, he dressed quickly, knotting his dark tie by feel rather than sight, assured of a good match by the fact that he wore only navy and black, and had long since ordered Adelfa to throw away any socks and ties that didn’t coordinate.
The Homestead clinic nurse had been calling daily, leaving messages for him to come back about his lab work and EKG. He’d finally capitulated yesterday, agreeing to come in on Wednesday when therealdoctor was there.
