Page 207 of Ironwood Ranch Cowboys

“Morning,” she says.

The word lands strangely in the room.

Cody turns slowly in his chair. “Why was Annie’s access revoked?”

Straight to the point.

Sherry swallows. “Well…” Her fingers tighten harder around the clipboard. “Jake asked me to. He said it was… a directive from someone else. I just… I did what I was told.”

Every instinct in my body goes tight. Because Cody angry is dangerous. “Excuse me?”

Sherry’s smile flickers. “He said there was concern about account integrity while the audit was ongoing and⁠—”

“He shouldn’t be able to suspend financial access without clearing it through me first.”

Sherry swallows hard. “He filed it through operations compliance. Said there was a potential internal breach and HR protocol required immediate suspension pending review.”

Cody goes deathly still. “That protocol is for ransomware attacks and external compromise.”

“I know,” she says quickly. “I just… I was told it needed to happen immediately.”

A coldness slides down my spine, because suddenly I can see it. The shape of the plan.

Jake isn’t just trying to move money anymore. He’s trying to control the narrative. Control the records. Control access.

And if things collapse?

Who’s the easiest person to blame?

The temporary accountant. The outsider. Me.

My stomach drops hard enough to hurt.

Cody seems to arrive at the exact same conclusion a second later because his expression goes frighteningly blank. “When did Jake tell you to do this?”

“This morning.”

“What exactly did he say?”

Sherry hesitates. “He said…” She swallows again. “He said sensitive financial records may have been compromised.”

The implication hangs there.

Ugly.

Intentional.

I feel suddenly nauseous.

Because Jake’s already positioning me inside the story. Making me look suspicious. Making me look temporary enough to disappear cleanly if necessary.

Sherry looks at me then, genuine distress finally cracking through her expression. “I didn’t know,” she says softly. “Annie, I swear, I didn’t realize⁠—”

“I know,” I say automatically.

And weirdly, I do.

Sherry likes order too much for this kind of manipulation. She follows systems. Instructions. Structure.