He hadn’t even had time to present the special project he had begun for her. Not that he had much to show yet, but his heart was invested in seeing her reaction. He pictured her face, flush with pleasure as she took in what he had done. Maybe that sparkle from her smile would reach all the way to her eyes, and he would know he did good. All he wanted was to make her proud of him. To impress her. And now, maybe she would work from the city and decide to never return.
Swirling his glass and indulging in a deep sigh, Marshall turned away from the window and rubbed his brow. There was no use dwelling on what might have been. He had to focus on what the hell was going on at the ranch. People’s lives were at stake.
Someone had killed Jack. The motive was a mystery, since his friend had been one of the greatest people Marshall had ever known. Kind, caring, and always eager to lend a helping hand. Who could Jack have pissed off enough to warrant being murdered? So far, all his ranch hands were accounted for, and Marshall was innocent.
It occurred to him that the bizarre happenings on the ranch hadn’t started with Jack, as Colette had suggested. Holding his glass firmly in his hand, he walked into the office and turned on the desk lamp, Hank following closely behind. Opening his laptop, his eyes roamed over the digital documents he had given Colette. The payments going nowhere, the canceled purchases and late deliveries for no reason. Colette had hinted thatsomeone might be wanting to sabotage the ranch, sabotage him. Hurt the King family.
He circled the computer mouse absently on the pad, gritting his teeth. How could he have missed all this stuff happening under his nose? When their former accountant up and left without any notice, he had taken over basic payments and financial transactions as a bridge until a new bookkeeper could be found. It was never intended to be a permanent solution. Marshall picked up his glass and pressed it against his lips.
Why had their bookkeeper left so suddenly? Could Agnes have been responsible for the missing money? He had blindly gone along with everything she did because he didn’t know better. It never occurred to him to doubt Agnes’s story. He didn’t know shit about finance stuff. Taking a deep swallow of whiskey, he slammed the glass on the desk. How could he be so fucking stupid? He dug his fingers in his hair and dropped his head into his hands. Hank was startled out of his sleep by the slamming of the glass and sat, staring at Marshall with his deep, soulful eyes.
“What?” Marshall asked, the dog simply tilted his head. “Come here, you.”
The dog padded over, the sound of his nails on the hardwood filling the silence. Hank slid his head onto Marshall’s lap and sighed loudly. His brown eyes stared up at Marshall worshipfully. Marshall scrubbed his hand through the dog’s brown, wavy fur. Hank was a reminder that everyone depended on him. If he was in danger, they were all in danger. Maybe he needed to get in touch with Agnes and just ask her a few questions. If he didn’t like the answers, he could investigate further and maybe start tying up all these loose strings dangling everywhere.
Agnes could be behind some of this or have an idea who might be.
As if on cue, his phone vibrated on the oak surface of the desk. Seeing his brother’s name, he swiped, lifting the phone to his ear.
“Hey, bro,” Marshall said.
“Don’t hey bro me,” a feminine voice said on the other line. “I know what you did.”
With a loud sigh, Marshall rolled his eyes. “What is it, Simone?”
“You sent Colette back to the city and now she’s devastated. Why couldn’t she just stay with you?”
He gave his head a shake. “You don’t know what it’s like out here. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to her. She needs to stay away until we get to the bottom of this.” Simone didn’t understand how much Colette meant to him. How far he would go to protect her.
“Alright, but what are you going to do to make it up to her? She’s worried about you, and I bet her pillow is damp with all the tears she’s been crying over you,” Simone said.
Marshall pressed his lips together, his brows drawing together in concern.
“She’s been crying?”
“I’m sure she has. You should call her,” Simone continued. “Maybe you should come visit this weekend. Yes, that would be best. Roger and I are busy with The Blossom Gala this weekend, but…wait. You should come to the gala!” Simone giggled and spoke with muffled tones to someone in the background, most likely his brother.
Her voice returned abruptly. “It will make Colette feel so special. There’s a six-course dinner, and dancing… Yes. That would be perfect. I’ll get you tickets. See you on Saturday.”
“Wait, Simone. Now hang on, I don’t even know who would take over here if I’m away, it’s not a good time,” he hesitated, though he would love to make Colette feel better.
“I’ll leave it up to you to figure out the details. I’ll help Colette get a dress and you make sure everything is taken care of at the ranch. It’s one night, Marshall. You can do it. I believe in you.”
“What am I going to wear? I haven’t worn a tux in ages.”
“You can borrow one of Roger’s; we’ll make it work. See you Saturday,” his brother’s girlfriend hung up, and the line went dead.
Marshall released a slow breath and leaned back in his chair.
Shit.
He hadn’t been to The Blossom Gala in at least a decade. It was a fundraiser for the Calgary Children’s Hospital, and his family was a generous donor to the event with both time and money.
Now he was going to show up on Colette’s doorstep and take her out on the town? It was hard to think of doing something so frivolous while things were going to shit at the ranch. Sweat gathered on his brow at the mere thought of mingling among the wealthy who would attend the event. His past life would be coming to haunt him.
On the other hand, Simone was right.
It was just one night.
