Page 3 of September’s Cowboy Travis

“So far, yours is the only direct payment I’ve found.”

“Right.” I dragged a hand through my hair and walked a few steps away from the desk. People in Mustang Mountain had a long memory when it came to my past. Long enough to remember every stupid thing I’d done in my teens and early twenties and conveniently forget I was thirty-something now and had been toeing the line for years.

“So someone is singling me out?”

Kaycee leaned one hip against the desk. “Maybe trying to take advantage of your reputation.”

“My reputation? I haven’t caused any trouble for years.” Sure, I raised a little hell when I was younger. A lot of us did. Why was I always the one who never seemed to get a fresh start?

“I haven’t decided if that’s relevant or not yet.”

That pulled a laugh out of me. “At least you’re honest.”

“I’m an accountant. We’re delightful in that way.” There was the smallest hint of humor in her expression before she looked back at the page. “If there’s something in your history that could be relevant to this review, I’d rather hear it from you than discover it later.”

I folded my arms. I could have told her none of it was her business. Would’ve saved time. Probably would also make me look guilty as hell.

“I got into fights when I was younger. Drank too much for a while after my mom died. Missed two equipment payments and caught them up with interest. I ran my mouth when I should’ve shut it, dated a few women who had every reason to regret it, and punched a man in a bar.”

Kaycee’s pen moved.

“He deserved it.”

Her pen stopped. “That’s not generally how assault law works.”

“Good thing you’re an accountant.”

One side of her mouth tipped up, just barely.

I went on before she could ask. “No bankruptcies. No tax liens. No judgments. No bad checks. I’m not hiding income, and every cattle sale I’ve made is on the books.”

“What about Roy Pritchard?”

I’d been waiting for his name to come up. “I sold Roy cattle. More than once.”

Kaycee’s brow arched. “When was the last sale?”

“Spring. Everything was legit. I’ve got the bills of sale, registrations, and brand records. If Roy changed paperwork afterward, I didn’t know about it.”

She watched me instead of writing. “Did you suspect anything?”

“No.” Not maybe. Not I should have. Just no.

I’d replayed enough conversations since Roy’s name started circulating to know whether I’d missed something obvious. If there had been a sign, I hadn’t seen it.

Kaycee finally wrote something down. “I’ll verify the sales.”

“Please do.”

I expected another question. Instead, she closed that section of the folder. That threw me more than an accusation would have.

“You’re not going to tell me I should’ve known better?” I asked.

She crossed her arms. “Should you have?”

“I just told you I didn’t.”

“Then until I find evidence otherwise, that’s what goes in my notes.”