15. Sacrifice a Rook – Zoe
Chapter 15
Sacrifice a Rook
PLAYLIST: “YOU SHOULD SEE ME IN A CROWN” BY BILLIE EILISH
ZOE
Hands shaking, I snatched my cell phone off Dad’s desk and dialed Roman. The phone rang just once before he picked up.
“What’s wrong, baby?”
“How did you know something was wrong?”
“You don’t usually call while I’m working unless something’s up, honey. What is it?”
“Come back to the house right fucking now and I’ll show you what’s wrong.”
“I’ll be right there.”
I chewed on a hangnail, viciously tugging it off and wincing when it pulled down into the quick, pacing furiously around dad’s office as I waited for Roman to ride back to the house. Pausing only long enough to drain my cup of coffee, long gone cold, I shuddered at the unpleasant sensation and fired off a quick text to Kat.
Zoe
Please be sure you pack my desktop coffee warmer.
I locked my phone, shoved it back in my pocket, and stalked over to the French doors, staring out them, watching for Roman. A dust cloud in the distance announced his approach. Then I saw him crest the hill on his big, black stallion. My heart squeezed at the sight of him riding toward the house like a bat out of hell.
I wished to high heaven that I didn’t have bad news for him again so soon, but here we were, and it seemed like bad news was the only kind of news I was in the business of delivering lately.
He’d mentioned discrepancies in the books when we were talking to the vet, but these weren’t just discrepancies. What I’d just found was blatant theft, and I was stunned that Daddy had missed it. When he got close, I grabbed the financial reports off Dad’s desk and rushed downstairs to meet him just as he burst in the door.
“What is it, baby? Are you hurt? Did Michael Carter or my mother come back?” Roman was wild-eyed as he rushed to me, taking my face in his hands.
I shook my head and held up the financial reports. “I’m not hurt, baby, not physically, but this is a real fucking gut punch. Someone is embezzling money from the ranch, Roman.”
I could have sucker punched Roman and he wouldn’t look any more stunned. Then, in an instant, his expression hardened with fury, his jaw set as he pulled me into a fierce, protective embrace. “Do you know who?”
I fisted my hands in his shirt, shaking my head. “No, but I have a hunch.”
Roman rubbed my back, still holding me close. “What do you want to do about it, darlin’?”
I stretched leaned my neck from side to side, cracking it in both directions to release some of the pent-up tension building at the base of my skull. “I want to go see Dad’s accountant. Can the other cowboys get by without you for the rest of the day, baby? I’m going to need you to keep me from going ballistic when we go see this asshole, if I’m right.”
Roman took a deep breath and nodded, leaning back just enough to look me in the eye, his dark gaze steady and unwavering. “They’ll manage. Let’s go take care of this.”
I nodded, stalking over and grabbing my purse off the coat rack by the door. “You drive. I’ve got some important phone calls to make on the way over there because this hunch I have is strong. I’m taking a gamble that it’s right, and we better pray to God I’m not wrong because if I am… well… I might catch some nasty backlash if I am. But I don’t think I am.”
Roman grabbed my arm and tugged me to a halt, frowning down at me. “Shit, baby, I don’t love the sound of that.”
I crossed my arms and tapped my foot on the floor, itching to hit the road. “Do you trust my gut and my head for business, considering that you made biannual visits to Miami to… check up on me?”
I almost said spy on me, but I thought better of it. No sense starting a fight right now when I needed him to have my back in the shitstorm we were both surely walking into.
Roman was quiet for a hell of a lot longer than I would have liked before he finally nodded. “Yes. I trust your gut implicitly… and your head for business, too.”
I nodded and blew out a little sigh of relief I didn’t realize I was holding in. “Good, then let’s get going.”
I tugged the front door open and pulled my phone out of my back pocket as I led the way to Roman’s truck.
Since I’d been back in Montana and found out David Michaelson was interested in buying my father’s property, I did a little late-night Googling regarding his real-estate habits back in California and I had a pretty good read on the guy, now.
Sitting in the passenger seat, I watched the Montana landscape roll by as Roman focused on the road, his hands steady on the wheel. My fingers hovered over my phone, already dialing Stanley’s number. The line connected, and he picked up right away.
“Zoe? I didn’t expect to hear from you again so soon. What’s up?”
“Stanley, get Greg on this call,” I said, no time for pleasantries. Roman glanced over, one eyebrow raised, but I ignored him, keeping my attention on the task at hand. After a second, I heard the click as Greg joined the call. I put it on speakerphone so I wouldn’t have to explain to Roman what I’d done after the call was over with.
“Zoe, what’s going on?” Greg’s voice was calm, but I could hear the curiosity there.
I took a breath, steadying myself. “David Michaelson, the obnoxious action star who’s been harassing us trying to buy out my father’s ranch, has overextended himself on real estate back in California. His properties there are practically begging to be bought out—and we’re not going to miss the opportunity. Today, we’re going to start buying them out, piece by piece. Quietly. Discreetly. And fast.”
Stanley let out a low whistle. “So, we’re really doing this? Going straight for the jugular?”
“Absolutely,” I said, glancing over at Roman, who smirked, clearly enjoying this as much as I was. “Stanley, I need you to pull in every contact we have on the ground in California. They need to be ready to make moves as soon as a property opens. Michaelson can’t have any warning.”
“You got it,” Stanley said, already sounding like he was halfway out the door.
“And Greg, keep a close eye on his market activity,” I continued, feeling my grip on the situation tighten with every word. “If he so much as tries to adjust, we’ll be the first to know.”
“On it,” Greg said, his tone all business.
I took a steadying breath; the plan taking full shape in my mind. “When the time’s right, I’m calling him myself. I’m going to tell him he needs to go home to California and start putting out the fires he started because he fucked with the wrong girl and the wrong ranch here in Montana.”
Stanley chuckled, low and approving. “You sure I can’t be on the line for that one?”
Roman laughed out loud beside me, his eyes fixed on the road, but there was a fierce pride there too. I smiled, already imagining Michaelson’s face when he realized just how far out of his depth he was.
“If I have to record it for posterity, I will,” I said, unable to hold back a grin. “This is our chance to put him on the defensive. I’ll hit him where it hurts if I have to for what he’s done to me, my father, and to Roman.”
The men gave their agreements, and we all hung up. I leaned back in my seat, feeling the satisfaction settle in like a weight I’d been waiting to hold for a long time.
Roman glanced at me as he pulled up to a stop sign. “You’re enjoying this a little too much.”
I shrugged, unable to hide the smirk on my face. “What can I say? Sometimes, the only way to deal with a problem is to make sure it’s too busy to deal with you.”
When Roman parked the truck at the accountant’s office, I swung out of it like a hellhound on the scent of blood, and Roman moved behind me like silent Death just waiting to be unleashed.
The accountant, Mr. Bush, was sitting at his desk eating lunch when I waltzed in.
“I’m busy. Come back later.”
“I think you’ll want to fucking hear me out unless you’d like me to call Deputy Blackwell and press charges against you for the embezzlement I uncovered in these documents this morning.”
I held up the financial reports for Twisted Creek Ranch and smacked them down on his desk, deciding balls to the wall was the way to go here. I was certain I was right, and judging by the way he paled and started sweating, I hit the nail right on the head.
“I—I—I—I don’t know what you’re?—”
“Shut the fuck up,” Roman growled from behind me. “Have some fucking dignity, man. You’re caught. Don’t try to lie about it.”
“David Michaelson made me do it. He doesn’t take no for an answer.”
“I’m sure lining your pocket in the process didn’t hurt your feelings, though, did it?” I offered him a bitter smile that was pure acid as I sat down across from him and drummed my fingers on the financial reports.
“Are you going to go to the police?”
I shook my head and spoke through gritted teeth. Sometimes you have to sacrifice a rook if you want to get a checkmate. “Not if you do exactly what I tell you to do today. First, spill the beans, shithead.”
I sat at the accountant’s desk, a simmering anger bubbling up as I scanned the financial documents in front of me. The embezzlement was obvious, a bold theft hidden in plain sight, siphoning funds straight out of Twisted Creek Ranch. But it wasn’t just greed behind this scheme; this accountant was working with David Michaelson. Michaelson had paid him to funnel money away from us, hoping to drive my father into debt so he could swoop in and buy the ranch for a fraction of its worth.
My fingers tapped rhythmically on the desk as the pieces clicked into place. This wasn’t just a betrayal; it was an ambush. I took a deep breath, letting my anger harden into resolve.
“I have a plan,” I said, catching the accountant’s eye. He shifted nervously, no doubt sensing he was about to regret underestimating me.
“I want you to call David Michaelson,” I told him, my voice steady and cold. “And put it on speaker.”
He hesitated, but after a moment’s pause, he picked up the phone and dialed, the line ringing until that familiar, arrogant voice from so many action movies came through.
“What can I do for you today, Oliver?” Michaelson asked, his tone practically oozing smugness.
I leaned forward, my voice sharp and unyielding. “Actually, this is Zoe Brandt, and I’ve been looking into your properties in California, David. Looks like you’ve been overextending yourself financially. I’ve taken the liberty of orchestrating a buyout of your real estate back home… see how you like a taste of your own medicine.”
Silence stretched over the line. I could practically feel him reeling, and it sent a surge of vicious satisfaction through me.
“You wouldn’t dare,” he spat, finally finding his voice.
“Oh, but I have,” I replied, calm and unflinching. “I worked in real estate when I lived in Miami and I still have connections. The wheels are already turning. So here’s your choice, David: keep messing around with my family’s ranch, or go home and put out the fires I’ve started in California. Either way, you picked the wrong girl and the wrong ranch to fuck with here in Montana.”
A string of curses erupted from him, then the line went dead. I leaned back in my chair, a slow, satisfied smile spreading across my lips. Michaelson had wanted leverage over us—but now I had the upper hand, and I wasn’t letting go.
The accountant mopped sweat off his brow with a handkerchief. “And what about me?”
“You?” I arched a brow at him and shook my head. “You’re fucking fired, and you better thank your lucky stars I’m a woman of my word and I’m not turning you over to Deputy Blackwell right now like I rightfully should be.”
“And one more thing,” Roman spoke up with quiet menace from behind me, “You will return every penny you embezzled from Twisted Creek Ranch, or so help me God, I’ll make sure you live to regret crossing my wife the way you have. Do we understand one another?”