When we pull into the rodeo grounds, the morning is still early. A few crew members are setting up, checking equipment, preparing for the day’s events. The stands are empty, waiting to be filled.
“Gonna go get ready,” I tell my father as I climb out of the truck.
He nods. “Good luck today.”
“Thanks.”
I watch him drive toward the main-office area, then turn and head in a different direction.
I have a stop to make first. I spot Carter’s pickup truck and Kai’s car, so they’re already here. But first, I have something to do.
Joshua is exactly where I expected to find him, in the ticketing booth near the main entrance, organizing his station for the day ahead. He’s a local and has always helped with the circuit when we’re in town, handling admission. He’s always been good to us.
“Seth!” His face breaks into a grin when he sees me. “Been meaning to grab a drink with you. How long you in town?”
“Couple more weeks at least.” I shake his hand, clapping him on the shoulder. “We’ll make it happen. Got some things to sort out first.”
“I heard about the Brutus thing.” He whistles low. “Kai’s either brave or crazy.”
“Little of both.”
We make small talk for a few minutes, catching up on circuit gossip, complaining about the travel schedule, the usual. But eventually, I need to steer the conversation where it has to go.
“Hey, I need a favor,” I ask.
“Name it.”
“Can you pull up the sales numbers in the system? For the last two days.”
Joshua raises an eyebrow but doesn’t ask questions. He turns to his computer, types in a few commands, and swivels the screen toward me. I pull out the figures from Holden, as I’d taken my father’s handout.
The numbers match exactly what Holden showed us this morning.
I frown. “Who has access to this data?”
“Just management and committee leadership. Why?”
“No reason.” I study the screen, thinking. Would Holden alter these numbers to cover his tracks?
The question is, are these numbers accurate, or has he been cooking the books from the start?
“I need you to do something for me,” I say, lowering my voice. “Today, as you process sales, keep a manual record. Paper. Write down every ticket you sell, every transaction that goes through your station. Get the other booths to do the same if you can.”
Joshua’s expression shifts from curious to serious. “You think something’s off?”
“I don’t know yet. That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” I meet his eyes. “Keep this between us, yeah? I don’t want anyone knowing I’m looking into this until I have something concrete.”
“You got it.” He nods.
“Thanks, Joshua. I owe you. And if you can email them to me when you get a chance.” He leans over and jots down his email on his notepad.
Joshua nods. “Buy me that drink and we’re even.”
I leave the ticketing booth and head toward the stables, my mind churning. If the manual count matches the system’s numbers, then maybe I’m wrong. Maybe Holden is just incompetent, not corrupt. I highly doubt that.
I’m almost to the stables when I spot her.
June is standing near the media tent, phone pressed to her ear, her expression intense. Whatever conversation she’s having, it’s serious. I can tell by the way she’s pacing back and forth.
