Chapter 18: Ray's Numbers

Ray's face changed when he saw what I was holding.

It was only a flicker, but I had spent six years watching men's faces when a ledger came out.

"That's mine," he said.

"It was in my bag."

I held it up so the second row could see the cover.

"It fell off your truck seat on Wednesday. I'd like to give it back."

"Give it back now."

"After I read it."

"Annie," Kat said behind me.

"Mr. Salazar just told you this wedding is not in good faith," I said to the pasture.

I turned to face the chairs.

"I'm a forensic accountant. I'd like to show you what he writes down about himself."

Ray started toward me.

The old rancher from last night stepped into the aisle and stood in his way, and the man next to him stood too.

Ray stopped.

I opened the notebook to page nine.

"October of 2022," I read. "Paid R.S., management, nine thousand. Next line, November, same. December, same."

Nobody moved.

"Every month for four years. Forty-eight entries, in his handwriting, each with a check number."

I looked up.

"That's four hundred thirty-two thousand dollars."

I let it sit.

"The trust paid it to Ray to look after a ranch where the ranch hands do all the work."

"I was entitled to a fee," Ray said. "It was agreed."

"Show me the agreement."

I turned the page.

"I read the trust document yesterday afternoon. It allows a fee of one percent of income."

I looked at him.

"On these books, that is about eleven hundred dollars a year."

A low sound ran through the folding chairs.

"It's a technicality," Ray said.

"It's four hundred thousand dollars."

I turned another page.

"March of this year. Front Range Land Partners, deposit on creek water rights, one hundred fifty thousand."

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