“Hydraulic pumps.”
“Whole harnesses.”
“Expensive stuff.”
“What happened?”
“Clayton thought he was accusing the vendor of fraud.”
“He was.”
“Probably.”
“But Daniel couldn’t prove where the money went.”
“Then Big Sky closed.”
“And Yellowstone Equipment opened two years later.”
“Owned by the son.”
Luke nodded.
Maya stared at the row of machines.
“Who manages vendor approvals?”
“Logan.”
“Who approves invoices?”
“Clayton sometimes.”
“Bookkeeper.”
“Mostly Logan routes them.”
There it was again.
Not proof.
But enough to keep digging.
By sunrise Maya had not slept again.
Clayton arrived at 6:30.
Logan arrived with him.
That was not an accident.
Clayton walked into the shop angry.
“You shoved my foreman?”
Maya was under the forage harvester.
She rolled out on a creeper.
“No.”
Logan laughed.
“She’s lying.”
Maya stood.
“Show him your shoulder.”
“What?”
“You hit me with yours.”
“You blocked me.”
“Because you were touching a machine at two in the morning.”
Clayton looked at Logan.
“You were here?”
Logan answered immediately.
“I couldn’t sleep.”
“Wanted to see if her repair would hold.”
Maya said:
“In the dark.”
Clayton’s jaw tightened.
Logan pointed.
“She’s accusing me because she can’t fix this mess.”
Maya looked at Clayton.
“Machine two ran last night.”
Clayton turned.
“What?”
“Ran forty minutes.”
“Load?”
“Not yet.”
“Then?”
“She turned it off,” Logan said.
Maya ignored him.
“I want security footage.”
Clayton stared.
“What footage?”
“Shop cameras.”
Logan laughed.
“Cameras haven’t worked since spring.”
Maya looked at him.
Clayton looked too.
“Why?”
“Network issue.”
Clayton frowned.
“I thought that got fixed.”
“It didn’t.”
“Who told you?”
“Trent.”
Maya almost smiled.
Clayton saw.
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Start building conspiracies.”
“I’m asking for records.”
“You’re here to fix machines.”
“Then let me do it.”
“I am.”
“By letting your foreman touch them at night?”
Clayton turned toward Logan.
“Stay out of the machines until this bet is done.”
Logan stared.
“Seriously?”
“Yes.”
“You believe her?”
“I believe I signed something.”
Maya noticed the distinction.
Clayton was not choosing her.
He was choosing his word.
For now, enough.
Logan walked away.
As he passed Maya, he whispered:
“You’re not leaving with cows.”
She whispered back:
“Then you’d better hope I’m bad at my job.”
Day two produced more than repairs.
The ranch bookkeeper arrived at noon with a rolling file cart and the expression of a woman who had been inconvenienced by men for thirty years and was tired of it.