Chapter 12
Colette sat on the floor in front of the dratted filing cabinet and let out a frustrated growl.
She sifted through each individual file and opened each folder in search of the information on Lorimer Fertilizers.
There was always a possibility that something was filed wrong or wedged in the wrong place.
Her research had proven that neither of those were true.
Information was definitely missing.
All the accounts Colette had analyzed—except that one—had been well kept and orderly until about six months ago.
Their former bookkeeper, Agnes, was meticulous and organized.
Marshall kept very detailed records. But the numbers still weren’t adding up.
She had painstakingly gone through the storage boxes in the ranch office and found nothing on this vendor.
The files were missing, deleted from the server, or misplaced.
Her gut was telling her there was a connection.
Payments were going to this company, fully authorized by Marshall, yet she had no proof of receiving their services or supplies.
Their old accountant had retired and disappeared to Mexico to spend her days enjoying a warmer climate.
According to Marshall, the woman was impossible to contact, given her remote location and a faulty Wi-Fi connection, or something along those lines.
Colette had accepted this challenge, knowing there would be a lot of unanswered questions.
And it wasn’t the first time she was working with a company to help clean up the finances and set them up for another team of accountants to take over.
She loved solving puzzles and connecting dots.
If dots were missing, it would be nearly impossible to connect them.
Or, she would have to get creative.
Think outside the box.
With a gentle shake of her head, she brought herself back to reality.
There was information she was lacking and few sources to search for it.
It was time to take a deep dive into the ranch computer files.
Searching the database wasn’t always straightforward, since she had to fill in the blanks of how Agnes had arranged the finances.
And that was assuming she made effective use of computer programs, which wasn’t always the case.
At least she knew everything that was documented on paper now.
It was a good place to start.
She braced for the cool spring air to hit her face and was surprised by how much the day had warmed.
Shoulder seasons in Alberta meant dressing in layers and today was no exception.
Shedding her warm jacket, she folded it over her arm and headed for the ranch office.
Marshall had left the database access codes and banking information for her on the desk.
Once Colette had access, the files could be downloaded to her own computer to work in the comfort of the guest house.
Cozy socks and tea were calling her name.
And a speaker blasting Depeche Mode.
Then she would see where the vibes would take her.
She trusted her abilities in accounting, but the reality was, if she sniffed out something fishy in the finances, she might have to bring on someone to help. A second opinion was always valuable.
In the meantime, she would rely on her own skills in finance to start organizing the information that wasn’t making sense.
Plan her approach, tell Marshall what she was seeing, and hope he wouldn’t get mad, or worse, blame himself.
It would keep her busy, but updating their digital files and organizing them would be a delight as well.
Her goal was to leave the ranch finances in much better shape than when she started.
The barn was quiet at this time of day, the floors swept and clean, with only the odd scrap of hay on the concrete.
Marshall ran a tight ship and had so much to be proud of running this ranch for his grandparents.
Colette shivered as she walked through the rows of pens, staying perfectly in the middle of the hallway, away from the sniffs and nudges of the horses that remained inside.
Since it was a beautiful day, she assumed most of them were outside, enjoying the sunshine and newly sprouted green grass that was beginning to surface.
Marshall had explained that they were beginning seeding for various feed crops that would help sustain them through the winter, feed their animals, and if some was left over, sell for profit.
This made her want to cross-reference their records to check for other potential income sources they might gain from a surplus.
Knowing the extent of the work Marshall did, it seemed unfair that he had also been tasked with maintaining the books in Agnes’s absence.
She straightened her spine at the sense of purpose she had.
When she worked for a huge company in an accounting department, it was easy to feel like a spoke on a bicycle wheel.
Not necessarily essential on her own or important.
Replaceable, and in her case, redundant.
Though her employer had expressed some chagrin at letting her go, they made sure she knew their hands were tied.
There were more experienced accountants on the team who had more value—she was not part of that group.
Here, Colette truly felt her worth. Marshall needed her to take care of the finances so that he could continue with the day-to-day responsibilities of running the ranch and making it successful. She was taking a weight off his shoulders, which he needed.
There weren’t many people on the ranch who shouldered the worries and the burden of caring for such a huge enterprise. Sure, she was here for a temporary contract, but what if she cleaned up the finances and found other ways to be useful?
In larger companies, she was forced to wear only the one accounting hat. Maybe she could wear more on the ranch? She had a lot of skills and ideas to offer, if Marshall and his family were open to them.
Colette stilled as she approached Vinny.
He was looking at her, as though he had heard her thoughts.
How could she even be thinking about other projects she might accomplish here?
It was pure folly. She had bookmarked a few jobs her father had sent her that she wanted to apply for.
Her future was back in the city. Being at Rosebud Ranch was a nice change, but it was temporary.
She stared down Vinny, daring him to tell Marshall her secret thoughts.
The horse snuffed in protest as she walked past him and only briefly patted his nose.
Her arms were glued to her sides as she continued down the hallway and turned the corner. Ahead of her, she could hear footsteps near the office and her heart leaped in her throat, thinking it was Marshall. Why should her body react to seeing him again? He was annoyed with her most of the time.
Boots scuffed along the concrete floor as a blur of plaid and denim stepped from the office and disappeared around to the other side of the stable. The man’s sandy hair was mostly covered by a light tan cowboy hat. A horse neighed next to her, and she yelped, frozen in fear.
“Marshall?” she called out.
But no one came.
Swallowing, she hustled to get away from the nervous horse and ran on quiet feet to the office, trying her best not to upset the animals.
Seeing the office was empty, she continued past it, hugging the corner as she peered into the hallway leading to the other stalls in the barn.
Colette wasn’t blind. She had seen a plaid, cowboy-hatted man in denim leaving through this hallway.
Judging by the blond hair and the lack of a beard, it wasn’t Marshall.
Not having met all the staff yet had her at a disadvantage.
The man was nowhere to be seen.
The hallway was empty and silent, save for the sound of the odd hoof hitting the ground or the soft shuffle of hay on the ground. An eerie chill swept up her spine, and it had nothing to do with the presence of the giant, terrifying animals.
Who would need access to Marshall’s office when he wasn’t there.
Worrying her bottom lip with her top teeth, she considered.
Marshall would have come when she called out to him, not continued leaving the office. The man bore no resemblance to Marshall.
How easy would it be for someone to mess around with the finances if his office was always open like this?
We don’t use locks here. It’s safe.
Backing away from the hallway, she returned to the office, taking inventory of what was here for someone to see.
The computer sat open, the screen lit. If Marshall was busy with the vet, wouldn’t the screen be dark? In sleep mode at least? On a piece of paper next to the laptop, the information for logging into the system. Colette shook her head.
Even though she was here for a finance overhaul, Marshall clearly needed some security training, too.
Maybe she had gotten too used to dual authentication and extreme caution when it came to protecting information with larger companies in the city, but this seemed careless.
Too trusting. Pulling Marshall’s chair away from the desk, she stared at the screen, the scrawled note giving access to the data sitting on the computer right there.
Sure enough, she waited for the screen to black out and ask for a password.
It never did.
Marshall had no passwords to protect the confidential information and financial records on his computer. Colette rolled her eyes, knowing she faced another difficult conversation.
We don’t use locks here. It’s safe.
The words played like a record skipping in her brain.
How on earth was she going to confront Marshall about the potential for a data breach and the lack of security with confidential information? Would he get mad at her again?
Unsure as to how to get hold of him, she left him a note on the desk to come see her when he returned from whatever task he was completing.
He wasn’t great at answering her text messages, but she left him one of those, too.
Out of an abundance of caution, she tucked the laptop under her arm and carried it back with her.
She tried to forget how many people could have accessed this sensitive information already. Once she got back to the guest house, she would reset the passwords and add extra security authentication codes to prevent anyone from messing with the work she was doing.
It was time to lock everything up tight.
Marshall may be a country boy now, but she was a city girl.
She locked her doors and watched over her shoulder, because you never knew where danger lurked.
Now that someone was targeting the King family and potentially messing with their systems, Marshall was going to have to change, whether he liked it or not.