Page 186 of Ironwood Ranch Cowboys

I hate admitting that.

My eyes burn from staring at spreadsheets, but I keep going anyway, refining queries tighter and tighter until the data begins collapsing inward on itself.

And then…

There.

I stop moving entirely.

The reroute sits buried beneath three authorization layers tied to livestock insurance reallocations.

At first glance, it looks clean, legitimate, boring, which is exactly why it almost works.

Almost.

I zoom further into the permissions structure. Then further, and a cold twists hard beneath my ribs.

Administrative override required. Admin level rerouting permissions.

My pulse slows instead of quickening.

That’s always how it happens. The worse the information becomes, the calmer I get.

I pull the permissions tree immediately.

Only four people at Ironwood possess that level of authorization. Silas. Me. Sherry. Jake.

I stare at the names longer than necessary.

Before now, there were variables. External interference. Credential manipulation. Layered access exploitation.

Now?

The circle narrows.

I remove myself first.

My credentials weren’t active during the reroute window. I know that before checking because I was physically with Annie reviewing vendor structures during the relevant timestamp.

Still, I verify it anyway. Verification matters more than assumption.

My login records align perfectly.

Fine.

Next: Silas.

I pull operational movement logs against authorization timestamps. Again, consistency. Mostly.

But Silas delegates portions of administrative processing more than I do. Ranch operations force him outward physically. Meetings, land issues, vendor disputes, which creates exposure.

I lean back slowly, removing my glasses and pressing two fingers against the bridge of my nose.

Sherry.

My stomach tightens unpleasantly, because Sherry has access to everything. Payroll, scheduling, administrative pathways.

And more importantly, everyone trusts her. She’s been here for years. Long enough that her presence stopped registering as separate from the structure itself, which suddenly feels less comforting than it used to.