had refused to carry a cell, preferring a clunky black radio they called the brick. He’d resisted new technology like the plague. But even without a cell phone, he’d always been at the right place at the right time, seeming to know instinctively what everyone needed from him. And Jill missed him now more than ever.
“Thanks.” With a quick grin, Alan tucked the phone into his pocket, scooped up his yellow hard hat, and left the office.
Karen’s admiring gaze followed after him like a love-struck schoolgirl and Jill smiled with amusement.
She tried to tell herself everything was going to be fine, but she was worried. The financials didn’t look good and an ugly question kept pounding her brain. Had Alan become desperate enough for money that he’d stooped to stealing timber?
Jill had to find out the truth, and fast.
Forty minutes later, she was waiting for her brother when he returned. She gestured toward his office and he headed that way.
“Ida, we don’t want to be disturbed for a while,” he told the woman.
Ida gave a solemn nod of understanding.
Inside his office, Alan plopped down in his chair and leaned back. Jill closed the door and sat in a chair across from him.
He looked up and released a heavy sigh. “So, what’s the verdict?”
“You already know. We’re heavily in debt. Over the past eight months, you’ve spent almost two million dollars on new technology.”
He blinked and licked his dry lips. “Yeah, but our output has doubled. The mill needed to be modernized, Jill. The new equipment has increased our production like crazy.”
“But it’s barely enough to cover our bills.”
He grinned. “But we are making it. Things will get better. You’ll see. Just give us some more time.”
She didn’t have much choice. “I also can’t account for five hundred thousand dollars. It’s like it just disappeared off the books. Any idea where the money went?”
He shook his head. “I guarantee I didn’t pocket it. Although I might have made some purchases and forgotten to turn in the receipts to Ida.”
Forgetting to turn in five hundred thousand dollars’ worth of receipts was beyond unusual. She didn’t know if Alan had been reckless, careless, or if they had a bigger problem she didn’t understand.
Yet. She’d get to the bottom of it.
“Check again. The money’s got to be there somewhere in the books,” he said. “And I project the new equipment we bought will pay for itself within three years.”
She tossed a financial report on his desk. “I’m not so sure. Look at the balance sheet. All it would take is a minor catastrophe to slow down our production and ruin us.”
Heaven help them if Brent Knowles discovered evidence that linked Alan to the stolen timber. The ranger could shut down their timber harvest. They had an inventory of logs, but their workers would go through them fast. Without logs to process, they’d be out of business. The final straw to break their backs.
Alan stared blankly at the numbers on the report before pushing the papers aside. Jill knew he didn’t get the math. He never had. But he knew trees. Douglas fir, ponderosa pine and larch. He had an inner intuition, understanding the grain and how to saw through a single tree trunk to get the most usable board feet. No one was better at his craft.
“I thought modernizing the mill was the best thing for us to do,” he said.
“It is, but not all at once. Not when we exceed our ability to pay for the new technology.”
“I’m sorry, Jill. I didn’t think it would be this bad. I’ve made some mistakes, but I’m trying to clean them up.” His smile dropped away and he clamped his mouth closed, looking determined and shamed all at once.
She studied him. His uneasy glance. The way he opened his mouth, then closed it again, as if he wanted to say something. The furtive looks at the door, as if he wanted to escape. She sensed he was keeping something from her. Something big. And the odd thing about it was that she’d gotten the same vibes from Brent Knowles.
Taking a shallow breath, she met Alan’s eyes and sought the truth there. “Al, this is just between you and me. I won’t tell a single soul. Not even Mom. But I have to ask once more, and I want the facts. Did you steal that timber to pay the bills?”
“No!” He flew out of his seat and smacked his palms down on the top of the desk so hard that she flinched. His face looked tight and angry, his eyes glaring with outrage. “I told you last night, Jill. I’m not a thief and never agreed to the theft. I wouldn’t do it. Dad wouldn’t approve. And I would never do anything to shame our father like that.”
The mention of their dad’s honor caused tears to burn her eyes. She tilted her head, surprised by Alan’s choice of words. Something about his tone spoke volumes. “Do you know who the thief is?”
His gaze slid away and he sat back down. “I told you. I had no part in it. I’d rather sell off the mill honestly than besmirch Dad’s reputation by stealing timber. Even if we had to sell, we could do that with integrity. It wouldn’t be ideal, but I could live with that.”
Hmm. He hadn’t answered her question. Not really. But all that mattered right now was that he’d claimed he was innocent and she trusted him.
She held up a hand. “Okay, I believe you. But I had to ask. At some point, we may need to hire a lawyer from Boise. But if you say you’re innocent, then I’ll stand beside you all the way, Allie.”
Allie. The childhood nickname she used for him when they were alone.
She meant what she said. Even if she embarrassed herself in the process, she’d defend him. This was her brother, after all. Her family. If nothing else, she was loyal. She’d been pursuing her own goals for long enough. Now Alan and Mom needed her, and she was determined not to let them down.
Alan’s features softened, but his brown eyes showed his anxiety. “Thanks, sis. It’s bad enough that Mom suspects me of theft. The past months since Dad died have been pretty rough at home. I don’t think I can stand it if you believe I’m guilty, too.”
Again, her conscience gave a tight pinch. “Don’t worry about Mom. I’ll speak to her.”
Poor Mom. She was still grieving for Dad. They all were.
“Thanks.” He gave a weak smile, looking so much like the young boy she’d grown up with.
“Do you know what’s inside there?” She pointed at the black twenty-inch safe sitting in one corner of the room. Before his death, this had been Dad’s office. The safe had been here as long as Jill could remember, but she’d only seen inside it once or twice.
Alan shrugged. “Just some old bank records. Dad opened it the day before he died, but I lost the key.”
“And you haven’t opened it since Dad died?”
He shrugged. “Nope. I didn’t think it was important.”
“Hmm. We should get a locksmith to open it for us. There might be something of value inside.”
“I’ve been meaning to call someone, but knew it’d cost us a pretty penny to have a locksmith drive into town from Boise,” he said.
No doubt he was right, but it couldn’t be helped. “I’ll call in the next week or so and ask what it might cost.”
Standing, she went to the door and laid her hand on the knob. She smiled back at him. “I love you, Allie. Don’t let these problems eat you up inside. We’ll work something out. We just need to figure out what that might be.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” He bobbed his head in a quick series of nods.
“I’m