Her Balancing Act: Quinlan O'Connor Book 3

by Alyssa Bailey

  “Yes, but if it works well,” finished Kelli, “then it’s a great boost for the local economy with a little back on your investment.”

  “Yes, and if it doesn’t, the payback on my investment won’t be monetary. It will cause me to sleep on my belly for a long time to come.”

  They drove through town rather quickly and went out to a little café north of Elk Ridge to lower the risk of running into Quinlan on his rounds. This was the last month Quinlan would be pulling shifts as his new job as police and sheriff department liaison would start full-time next month. Evidently, he would also work on relations with other law enforcement agencies in the state. Why they had to have a referee she would never know, but Cheyenne was forever thankful that her husband would not be in a dangerous situation when he went to work.

  They walked into the café, and both ordered the special, having it served almost before their colas. Cheyenne asked about Parker and Kelli said that he was at his dad’s working on some paperwork they do at the end of their fiscal year before turning it in to the accountant. “Besides, he goes to help out at the ranch a couple evenings a week. When he gets married, he will be able to upkeep his livestock in the evenings after work.”

  “You mean when he marries you.”

  Kelli ignored the invitation to spill her guts and said, “So, what do you think is going on with your car and the double receipts and all?”

  Cheyenne paused a moment to decide if she wanted to pursue the obvious issue of marriage and Kelli, but decided not to intrude yet. She needed to solve one puzzle at a time.

  “I’m not sure, but I think the number discrepancy has to do with the lending group, and I don’t know about the feed store double billing. Maybe the ranch manager has himself a little scam with people at the feed stores, but this is amateurish. The one that bothers me is where the money shows paid into the holding account, but not consistently distributed. The monetary amounts that should be the same distributed are different every time. It makes it appear as though the loans are not paying as agreed, but nothing in the bank statements says they are getting anything different incoming than expected.”

  “Huh? Okay, you lost me there.”

  “Okay, for instance, you are the borrower, and your payment is $1,000 per month. So, on the bank statements, it says you paid $1,000 this month, and your loan amount on the co-op books goes down accordingly. But the lender, who is one of five, should be getting $200.00 per month, but he’s only getting, say, $150 this month, $125 next month, etc.”

  “Even I know that is stinky numbers.”

  “Right, but it would make sense if the borrower didn’t pay his whole payment. Now, on the accounting of things, the borrower sees his balance decrease. On the lender side, they are not getting the full amount so they are thinking the investment is not as good as it could be.

  “Eventually, the loan has to pay off or default. After some work, I’ll next try to see what happens when the credit seems to legitimately pay off on the borrower’s side, and the lender sees no more money. I wonder if they write it off. The reason I know this is the right direction is because the books that reflect the bank statement after reconciliation by the bookkeeper is off. The numbers by the previous accountant show write-offs but no collection efforts and nothing on business loss to the IRS. All of that is wrong.”

  “But what about the owners? The lenders? Wouldn’t you think they would know? Wouldn’t they call the borrowers?”

  “Maybe, if there is an on the ball lender, but I get the feeling that this is a philanthropic effort and tax write off, so it kills two birds with one stone. I don’t know if the others write it off, but Spencer hasn’t that I can tell so far, but he should. He should, that is, if the numbers matched. In Martin’s case, he has never kept up with it in the first place, his wife did. He wouldn’t know what he was looking at easily. Since his wife died five years ago, he has had no idea what was going on under his own roof. I have verified whatever is going on has been going on for three years.”

  “Geez, I can’t imagine Da not noticing something like that.”

  “I know, but remember, Martin has been mourning his wife for a while. If it doesn’t seem broken, you don’t fix it. He is from the generation of trust your workers and neighbors. I wish I found it as easy sometimes, to trust.”

  “How about the bookkeeper or the old accountant, how could they not know?”

  “I think they did. That was why they left so suddenly.”

  “Okay. What about the other lenders? Do they have the same discrepancy?”

  “I don’t know. That’s a good question. I guess I just assumed they did but what if they don’t, and it’s only Spencer’s account?”

  “And what about all this mess really? Aren’t we talking about fifty or so bucks a month?”

  “Oh no, sometimes it is the whole payment, and there are about forty people this group has in borrower status at any one time, and some payments are several thousand per month.”

  “Wow, that sure would add up.”

  “Yep, especially if it is all the lender’s repayments or transfers that are affected.”

  “So, who’s skimming?”

  “Well, Martin’s son, Jason and the ranch manager, Chuck are good candidates. They were the only ones on the signature cards at the bank. Besides, they are creepy and rude. I think it might be them. That would explain why they were upset that I was doing anything with the records. Worried I was going to discover something.”

  “Yeah, but I still don’t know what is the deal here. I mean, how would they get the money?”

  “They were the only ones on the signature cards so the only ones to be able to withdraw the money.”

  “So, were there withdrawals?”

  “I can’t find them except where the transfer took place from group fund to the individual accounts. It looks right there, but it isn’t right. When I ask for the balance, it is off, as it is recorded as two hundred but only one hundred and fifty dollars actually is deposited. The only way I can see that working is if the money goes to a dummy account and only so much is then transferred to the actual lenders’ accounts.”

  Cheyenne stopped to finish her dinner. “I really have to trace the money and the contracts to find the answer. It won’t be easy, and it won’t be fast.”

  “Are you going to tell Quinn?”

  “I have to find a pattern and some proof first. The biggest problem I have on Spencer’s accounts is if I’m wrong about what is going on, I can tip off the thief potentially causing more significant problems. Meaning, I can’t verify a lot of this yet.”

  “So, what are we going to do about it?”

  “I’m doing my best to get to the bottom of everything.”

  “No, I mean, how are we going to catch the thief?”

  “Oh. Kelli, I think if your brother finds out what I know so far, I’ll be eating standing up for a month. If he even thinks I disobeyed him on this and leave to go back to the Spencer Spread, he will filet me. And let me tell you, punishment with Quinn is to be avoided at all costs.”

  “Look, I know my brothers, and it is only for health and …”

  “I know. It’s for health, safety, and with Quinn, obedience, tone, attitude, and a few more things.”

  “What?”

  “I told you, Quinn is different. Obedience is part of the deal with us. He loves me, protects me, gives me just about anything I really want that is safe, but he expects me to obey him in return. And if I don’t, well, you get the idea.”

  “He can’t wail on you just because you don’t do as he says. That’s barbaric.”

  “He can’t?” Cheyenne asked innocently.

  “No.” Kelli leaned back in the chair defiantly.

  “Not even when I ask for it sometimes?”

  “What?”

  “Kelli, you have no idea the depths of my desires with Quinn so I would just use your term, TMI and I won’t go any further. I love you for trying to protect me from your brother, but I don
’t need it. If I really did not want this life, I would be able to leave. But I want it. No one is as perfect for me as Quinlan O’Connor.”

  “Well, okay. I guess,” she said unconvincingly.

  “So, do you mean Parker rarely pounds your naughty butt?”

  Kelli was shaking her head.

  “Not ever?”

  Kelli hesitated and then shrugged her shoulders.

  “Do you stop him?” There was no response. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. I have learned that some men need control, and some women need to feel that power, and it can be very hard to find. But when both types come together, woo buddy, it gets hot, hot, hot.”

  “I don’t need as much as you obviously do. I don’t need it at all but for us, it’s just safety and health. And bratting.” Kelli grinned.

  “Of course, that is the three basic elements of relationships with our men; whether you are earning it or asking for it.” Cheyenne looked at Kelli who seemed to want to say something. “Listen,” Cheyenne continued, “when you brat enough to get swatted, you are asking for it. Quinn calls that topping from the bottom.”

  Kelli shrugged dismissingly but did not answer.

  Cheyenne looked at her cell phone. “Man, we’ve got to go. It is a quarter to seven.”

  They rushed to pay the bill and hop in the car to get Cheyenne home.

  “Cheyenne, what are you going to do next?

  “I’m still formulating the plan.”

  “I want to be part of it. Really. I’m just having trouble imagining what you can do to get to the bottom of it all.”

  “I don’t know either, but I have the beginnings of a plan. When I flesh it out a bit more, I’ll let you know. I would prefer to have someone do this with me.”

  “I’m your woman.” They drove home in relative silence thinking of the days ahead.

  “Oh, oh. Looks like Ciarán is coming down the lane.”

  “Quick, turn your lights off and let me run into the back door. You stop him outside. You know, as if you are about to come up to the house and visit me. That will give me enough time to get around and open the door like I just noticed you outside.”

  “Boy, you sure are trouble with thinking like that. I like it.” Kelli grinned. “Go, get out fast, he’s coming at a steady pace.”

  It worked like a charm, and when Ciarán left within five minutes, Kelli headed home with promises of trying to think of alternative methods to beat whoever was stealing Martin Spencer’s money. As Cheyenne walked into her office and flipped on the light, a repeat scene of her Spencer Spread office lay before her. Papers everywhere, her lamp knocked over, her desk was the only clean spot in the room because it had been cleared of its contents. Those were scattered over the rest of the chaotic scene.

  As the initial shock wore off, realization began to set in. Someone had been in the house. Were they there because she had not been home or were they there regardless. Were they still there? Had it been dumb luck she’d not been home when they ransacked the office? Were they waiting for an opportunity? Had she been watched?

  Sliding her hand in her hip pocket, Cheyenne pulled out her phone and tried to lock the door, but the lock was busted. She slid down the wall pressed against her back until she was sitting on the floor in the doorway of her office. As things began to settle in her mind and the implications of what could have happened and what did happen came over her, Cheyenne’s hands started to tremor.

  By the time she got her eyes, her head and her hands coordinated enough to begin to type out Quinn’s phone number, she was shaking too much to do it. She was relieved when the name popped up and filled the rest of the number in. Her heart sank when the phone went to voicemail even though it was a common occurrence when he was working. She tapped out another number and hit dial again. Katie answered.

  “Hello?”

  “K-k-k-atie?”

  “Cheyenne, is that you? Honey, what’s wrong?”

  “I… Something’s happened.”

  “What? Are you okay?”

  “Yesss.”

  “Hold on, hold on, I’ll go get Ciarán.”

  Cheyenne could hear Katie call for her husband in an urgent voice that could not be construed as anything but hurry. We have a problem.

  Cheyenne could hear Ciarán as he responded to Katie, “What’s wrong, baby? Are you okay?”

  “Here. It’s Cheyenne. Something’s wrong.”

  “Cheyenne?” As soon as Cheyenne heard Ciarán’s voice that sounded so like Quinn’s, she began to cry.

  “Beag amhain, listen, I can’t understand you. I’m coming. I’ll be right there. Okay? Are you safe until I get there? Cheyenne, honey, calm down and answer me.”

  “Mmm hmm.” Ciarán handed off the phone to Katie, but Cheyenne knew that within three minutes, he would be busting through her door, so she just sat on the floor and waited, sobbing.

  In just a couple of minutes, that is how he found her, in the door of her office, head in her hands, crying. As he got closer, he looked around the room only occupied by Cheyenne. He approached the door that Cheyenne was sitting near.

  “Chey…” Her name was cut short by the reaction he had when he looked into the room.

  “Cheyenne, mhuirnín, you didn’t do this, right?” he asked as he squatted down in front of her.

  “What? No, it happened while we were gone.” Her admission was spoken quietly.

  “When you and Quinn were gone? Tonight?” Cheyenne shook her head. “Then, when who was gone?” Confusion was written on his face as he pulled her up and sat her in the chair he righted.

  “No, Kelli and I went into town,” she said, her voice hesitant.

  “When? Tonight? You left tonight?” Realization began to sink in. “After Quinn went to work. Did Quinlan know this?” He shook his head and spoke low answering his own question. “No, of course, he didn’t.” He paused before continuing. “And this all happened while you were off with Kelli going against your husband?”

  She shook her head as the tears welled up again.

  “Oh, honey, don’t worry. It’ll be all right.” He hugged her tight and then stood back.

  “No. It won’t.” Cheyenne was shaking her head and hiccupping her sobs now. “I was going stir crazy. So when Kelli came by, we decided—”

  “—to go against your husband.”

  Ciarán shut her down, took his hat off and drug his fingers of his right hand through his hair. If she had no other cue, he was worried, that was all she needed.

  “That is enough explanation. Diabhal é, Cheyenne, you women can test the patience of a saint. Save the rest for your husband.”

  Yep, thought Cheyenne as she watched the characteristic movement, trouble, big trouble. She took a deep cleansing breath and slowly let it out in a sigh. She knew she could apologize. She could come up with reasons why it should have been okay for her and Kelli to go into town.

  However, she also knew that even if it were arguments that would stand up in a court of law, they would not stand up to the men in her family. Dammit indeed. Cheyenne wondered how much she would need to talk and how much she would need to fight to keep her client. She was too close to let it go now.

  All they’d see would be the fact that they were doing all they could to keep their families protected. That family very much included Cheyenne and that she and Kelli had gone against what they had been told to do to help keep themselves safe. Not brain surgery, not rocket science. For this family, it was always going to be, ‘do as you are told or suffer the consequences’ because this was safety. She looked at Ciarán. He was the safety king even if her husband had taken over the security.

  “Ciarán?”

  “I love you, you know that.” Ciarán’s hand ran through his hair again. He started to pace for a few moments. “I’m more than pissed at you two. And I’m angry that someone had the audacity to come on our land and violate my family.”

  He looked at her again as he walked closer to where she was sitting. “Did you ever th
ink that we had these restrictions in place for a reason? That you might truly need to be protected. Do either one of you ever listen?” He walked around a couple more minutes before pulling out his cell phone.

  While Cheyenne, not much different then Kelli, kicking hard against the pricks, it did not matter because the bottom line was that, her safety was in jeopardy taking all bets off the table. Adding to that, when Cheyenne decided to not mind her protectors’ orders, things would not be good.

  Cheyenne knew she had to begin her apologies. Drawing her mind away from thoughts of self-preservation and regret, she saw that Ciarán was talking on the phone and tried to listen to what he was saying. She tried to stand up, but he held her in place while he finished his conversation. His look told her to not even consider defying him. She didn’t but she returned a look that answered him in the brat vernacular.

  “You’ve got to be kidding.” She looked at his incredulous expression complete with raised eyebrows and look of amazement. Was he talking to her or the person on the phone? “She’s fine. A little worse for the wear and looks worried, but that’s all to be expected.” He nodded and turn slightly away from her to continue the conversation.

  “Yeah, I already called Quinn. He hadn’t looked at his phone so didn’t know he had a message until I called. He apologized that he couldn’t answer earlier. He can’t get here right away as he’s out the road with another disturbance. That said, since we were closer and did not see that there was anyone around, he would shift out and get home as soon as he can, but it could be a little bit because they are shorthanded. His replacement is just training.” Cheyenne watched Ciarán as he listened for a few moments before responding. “Yeah, he’s worried. I reassured him Cheyenne was upset but fine. It was probably best all the way around that he has some time to get his emotions back under control, anyway.”

  Ciarán continued to talk to whom she decided must have been Liam because Ciarán asked if Shane had left yet to go back to Sheridan. Satisfied with the answers, he hung up and turned to look at Cheyenne. He seemed to be his old self again. Cheyenne wondered if she would get whiplash with the abrupt change in personality. He was at complete ease and his concern for her shown in his voice and manner. Damn, he could be a good dom if he wanted, they all could. They had that psychological part down pat.