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I shook my head. “Nah, I'll be fine. I don't think she'll try anything too crazy. And besides, you need to stay here and take care of the chores while I'm gone.”
Billy shrugged. “Suit yourself. But if you need me, you know where I'll be.”
I finished my breakfast and headed out the door, my boots crunching in the fresh snow. I climbed into my truck, and it was a bit slow to start because of the cold. I turned on the heat, waiting for it to warm up before pulling out of the driveway.
The main highway had been plowed and the drive to Cut Bank wasn’t too bad.
Julie Redmond. Chartered Accountant. Cut Bank.
As I walked towards the accountant’s office, I couldn’t help but think about Annie. Memories of her flooded my mind. Her sweet smile, her infectious laugh, and the way she made my heart flutter with just a glance. I missed her terrible bad and hoped that maybe someday, we’d find our way back to each other.
But for now—if I ever hoped to get out of Montana, I had to focus on getting my affairs in order.
Julie Redmond’s office was in a small, quaint building on the outskirts of Cut Bank. I had never met Julie Redmond, but she had a big ad in the Yellow Pages and that said something.
Her assistant, an older lady with gray hair, greeted me in the outer office and offered me coffee but I declined. Too nervous to drink coffee.
I sat in Julie’s waiting room for about ten minutes before she came out and introduced herself. Nothing like what I expected.
I figured she’d look like a fifty-year-old librarian with silver-rimmed glasses, and that’s what I was ready for. That turned out to be her assistant, but not her.
Not ready for the Julie Redmond standing in front of me. Tall, blonde, and smiling. She might have hit the forty mark, but if she had, she was doing it with a lot of style.
She stuck her hand out. “Sheriff Frost. Happy to meet you at last. You’re the talk of Harrison County. Some kind of drug busting super hero.”
“Nope. You’ve got the wrong guy. That ain’t me.”
“Come on into my office and let me see what state your financials are in.”
I laughed. “I don’t even know what state they’re in. That’s why I need you.”
“I get it. You’re busy out there busting drug lords. You’re not crunching numbers.”
“Exactly right.”
“Have a seat. Coffee?”
“No thanks.” I handed her the large Manilla envelope where I kept all the papers Uncle Carson’s lawyer had given me at the reading of the will.
She reached in and pulled all the paper out and spent a few minutes sorting through it. “Did you bring a copy of your last year’s tax statement?”
“Yep. It’s in my pocket.”
“That’s good. Once I put all the pieces together, I’ll be able to tell if you should pay any installments throughout the year, or if you’re good with what the county is deducting from your paycheck.”
“Sure. I only took over all of my Uncle’s stuff about a month ago and his lawyer figured out the tax at that time and sent it in on my behalf.”
“Great. The receipt is probably in this pile of stuff.”
Julie was efficient and thorough. She went over all of Uncle Carson's accounts with me, pointing out where there were discrepancies and suggesting ways to maximize profits. I was grateful for her expertise and knew that Uncle Carson would have approved of her.
She asked me a few more questions, made a few notes and that was it. I was done. She needed a week to get me organized and then we’d have another meeting.
“Do I pay now or wait until you bill me, ma’am?”
“The office will bill you, Sheriff, and you can call me Julie.”
“Travis,” I said as she walked me to the door of her office. “After the election in November, I won’t be sheriff anymore. I’m retiring and moving back to Texas.”
