Chapter 8 - Page Four
Camille Ross cried before Ryan entered the conference room.
He could tell because she kept pressing a tissue against the corner of her left eye.
Her attorney sat beside her.
Dana sat beside Ryan.
No one offered coffee.
Camille stared at the table.
“I’m sorry.”
Ryan answered, “For which part?”
Dana touched his sleeve.
Camille flinched.
Ryan exhaled.
“That was unfair.”
“No,” Camille said. “It wasn’t.”
Her attorney spoke.
“My client is cooperating voluntarily. She has not been charged with any offense.”
Dana nodded.
“Understood.”
Camille opened a folder.
“Three months ago, Celeste brought an Aspen refinancing packet into your office.”
Ryan remembered.
She had said the chalet’s insurance needed updated ownership documentation after renovations.
There had been tabs.
Signature stickers.
A notary.
Camille.
“You signed two documents in front of me,” she said.
“What were they?”
“One was an insurance authorization. One was a property-management consent.”
“The deed?”
“No.”
“How do you know?”
“I read the first pages.”
“Then why is your notarization on a deed?”
Camille’s voice broke.
“Because the signature page was removed afterward.”
Silence.
Ryan stared.
Camille continued.
“I notarized your signature on a document. Celeste later asked me for a duplicate notarial certificate because she said the county rejected formatting.”
Dana’s eyes sharpened.
“You provided a loose certificate?”
Camille nodded miserably.
“My seal, my signature.”
Her attorney added, “She recognizes that was improper.”
Dana said, “Very.”
Camille looked at Ryan.
“I thought it was administrative.”
“Why didn’t you call me when you saw the deed recorded?”
“I didn’t know until Henry confronted me.”
Ryan remembered Keene’s photograph.
“He knew.”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
“He said, ‘You helped them steal my son’s house.’”
Ryan could almost hear Henry.
Camille wiped her eyes.
“I checked the county record that night.”
“And?”
“I called Celeste.”
Ryan stared at her.
“Not me.”
“No.”
“Why?”
Camille looked ashamed.
“Because she had something on me.”
Ryan waited.
Camille confessed.
For three years, she had submitted inflated travel reimbursements.
Hotels upgraded after conferences.
Flights altered for personal trips.
Expenses totaling nearly eighteen thousand dollars.
“Celeste found out,” Camille said.
“How?”
“I don’t know.”
“Victor,” Ryan answered.
Camille nodded.
“She said if I caused trouble, she’d send everything to finance and claim I stole from you.”
“You did steal from the company.”
Camille looked down.
“Yes.”
Ryan hated himself for feeling betrayed by someone whose smaller theft had made her vulnerable to larger crimes.
Dana asked, “Did Celeste explicitly tell you to falsify the deed?”
“No. She told me to stay quiet.”
“Any messages?”
Camille slid her phone over.
Screenshots.
Celeste:
USE PAGE FOUR FROM THE ASPEN PACKET.
Camille:
I don’t understand.
Celeste:
YOU DON’T NEED TO. YOU SAW HIM SIGN.
Later:
IF HENRY CONTACTS YOU, CALL ME FIRST.
Then:
REMEMBER WHAT HAPPENS IF FINANCE AUDITS YOUR EXPENSES.
Ryan read them twice.
“That’s blackmail.”
Dana corrected gently.
“Potentially coercion. We’ll let prosecutors choose labels.”
Camille continued.
“Henry told me to save everything.”
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you give it to him?”
“He died two days before we were supposed to meet.”
Ryan’s anger shifted.
Not away from Camille.
But wider.
Everyone in the room had made a choice that enabled the next one.
Camille stole.
Celeste discovered it.
Henry learned of the scheme.
Ryan ignored Henry.
Ryan ignored Emma.
Victor used Ryan’s credentials.
Ryan had made those credentials available.
There were villains.
But there were also openings.
And Ryan had left too many doors unlocked.
Dana slid a document toward Camille.
“We need a sworn declaration. You may also need to cooperate with the district attorney.”
Camille nodded.
“I will.”
Ryan stood.
“Why now?”
She looked at him.
“What?”
“Why cooperate now?”
Camille’s answer was quiet.
“Because Emma is eight.”
Ryan stopped.
Camille had seen the report.
She continued.
“I told myself the financial things weren’t my business. Then I heard what happened at the chalet. I realized that’s how this kept getting worse. Everyone kept deciding something wasn’t their business.”
Ryan had no response.
Outside the conference room, Dana stopped him.
“We can challenge the deed.”
“Good.”
“But don’t celebrate.”
“I’m not.”
“Celeste’s attorney has already filed a motion claiming Laurel Ridge paid for major chalet renovations with marital funds.”
“That doesn’t make it hers.”
“No. But it makes the property dispute messy.”
“Who owns Laurel Ridge?”
“We finally got the state filing history.”
Ryan waited.
Dana handed him a printout.
The organizer was a law firm.
The manager was an asset-management company.
But an older annual report listed the original member.
Celeste Vale Mercer.
Ryan stared at the name.
“She owned it before we married?”
“Established six weeks before your wedding.”
Ryan laughed without humor.
“She prepared for this before she became my wife.”
“Possibly.”
“Or she prepared to protect assets.”
“Also possible.”
Ryan turned the page.
Laurel Ridge had received a capital contribution nine months ago.
$1,900,000.
The funds came from another entity.
Summit Crest Maintenance LLC.
There it was.
The first direct financial bridge.
Ryan looked at Dana.
“We have her.”
“Not yet.”
“It’s her company receiving stolen money.”
“We have a document suggesting a connection. We need bank records, authentication, intent.”
Ryan hated legal caution.
But he was beginning to respect it.
His phone buzzed.
Emma’s school counselor had sent a message.
Emma had asked whether she could stay home indefinitely because she was afraid Celeste would “come get Noah.”
Ryan closed his eyes.
He had spent all morning thinking about property.
His daughter had spent it thinking about survival.
He put away the Laurel Ridge report.
“I’m going home.”
Dana nodded.
“Good.”
As he walked out, Camille called after him.
“Ryan.”
He turned.
“There’s one more thing.”
“What?”
“When Henry confronted me, he said the deed was not their final move.”
Ryan waited.
May you like
Camille swallowed.
“He said, ‘The house is rehearsal. They’re going to do the same thing to the company.’”
