Chapter 5 - Six Million Dollars Missing
Claire called Samuel Greene at 6:10 Sunday morning.
Bellamy Alpine Resorts’ chief financial officer had worked for her father for twelve years.
He answered sounding exhausted.
“Claire.”
“I need the truth.”
“About what?”
“Why Marcus needs control by Monday.”
Silence.
“Sam?”
“You should talk to Marcus.”
“That answer means you know.”
“I know the company is under pressure.”
“From what?”
“Debt.”
“We refinanced Summit Ridge.”
“That isn’t the debt I mean.”
Claire stood at the window.
Fresh snow covered the roofs below.
“Come to the staff residence.”
“I can’t.”
“Then send me the ledger.”
“What ledger?”
“The one you just proved exists.”
Sam hung up.
Maya, awake on the sofa with a blanket around her shoulders, said, “He’s scared.”
“Of Marcus?”
“Or of what he signed.”
Claire used her board-level credentials to access the company’s financial reporting system.
Her login failed.
She tried again.
ACCOUNT SUSPENDED BY ADMINISTRATOR.
Marcus had locked her out.
But Claire had something Marcus had apparently forgotten.
Her father had insisted that the executive chair receive monthly lender compliance packages separately from management.
Claire searched her archived email.
Maya moved beside her.
“There.”
A vendor repeatedly appeared in capital expenditure reports.
High Crest Strategic Services LLC.
Payments were individually modest by company standards.
$187,500.
$240,000.
$196,000.
$310,000.
Always below the threshold requiring full board approval.
Maya added them.
The total reached $6.4 million over eighteen months.
“What did they do?” Maya asked.
Claire searched.
Consulting.
Procurement.
Restructuring analysis.
Government relations.
No detailed work product.
“Shell company,” Claire said.
“Maybe.”
They searched Colorado corporate records.
High Crest’s registered agent was a Denver law office.
The manager was another LLC in Nevada.
Maya looked interested.
“That layering isn’t proof of fraud.”
“But it’s not how we hire consultants.”
Claire called Sam again.
This time he answered.
“You’re looking at High Crest.”
Not a question.
“Yes.”
“You need to stop.”
“Why?”
“Because the invoices were approved.”
“By whom?”
“Marcus.”
“He can approve up to two hundred fifty thousand. Some are higher.”
“Split project authorizations.”
“That sounds worse, Sam.”
He breathed heavily.
“Your father left the company in a more fragile position than you knew.”
“Don’t hide behind my father.”
“I’m not.”
“Who owns High Crest?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re CFO.”
“Then maybe ask why your husband ordered me never to run beneficial ownership diligence.”
Claire’s hand tightened around the phone.
“You knew that?”
“I objected.”
“Did you document it?”
Another silence.
“Sam.”
“I have to go.”
He disconnected.
At ten, Helen Brooks sent Claire scanned copies of the documents Marcus had submitted to the voting trust.
The first medical certification came from Dr. Ellen Voss, a psychiatrist connected to Cedar House Behavioral Health.
It stated that Claire suffered from “episodes of impaired judgment, emotional dysregulation, paranoia, and impulsive aggression.”
Claire read the sentence three times.
“I have never met this woman.”
The second statement, from Dr. Peter Lang, was shorter but supported temporary incapacity.
Maya searched his license.
“Internal medicine. Denver.”
“Never met him either.”
Then Claire saw an attachment.
An invoice.
Bellamy Alpine Resorts had paid Cedar House Behavioral Health $48,000 for “executive wellness consulting.”
The authorization signature belonged to Marcus.
Another payment had gone to Peter Lang’s medical consulting company.
Maya leaned back.
“This is turning into a pattern.”
“What kind?”
“Company money financing evidence against the company’s executive chair.”
Claire looked at the breakfast timeline.
The trust petition.
The hidden letter.
The staged incident.
Six million dollars in unexplained consulting payments.
Everything pointed toward Monday.
But why rush?
At noon, her answer arrived.
A board director named Daniel Cho called privately.
“I shouldn’t be doing this.”
“Then something must be very wrong.”
“Marcus circulated another document last night.”
“What document?”
“A proposed asset sale.”
Claire went still.
“Which asset?”
Daniel hesitated.
“Black Pine.”
Claire stood.
Black Pine Resort was the company’s flagship property.
Her father’s first successful acquisition.
Worth at least $90 million even in a weak market.
“To whom?”
“Red Summit Capital.”
“For how much?”
“Sixty-two million.”
Claire actually laughed.
“That’s not a sale. That’s theft.”
“The packet says liquidity emergency.”
“We have no emergency requiring a thirty-million-dollar discount.”
“Marcus says we do.”
“Monday?”
“Vote immediately after your suspension.”
Claire understood.
If Marcus controlled her voting rights, controlled management, and neutralized her board position, he could push the sale through before she stopped him.
“Daniel,” she said, “who owns Red Summit?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’m going to find out.”
When the call ended, Maya was already searching.
Twenty minutes later she found a private placement filing.
Red Summit Capital’s largest investor was a family trust.
The trust’s mailing address belonged to a house in Vail.
Claire knew the address.
May you like
She had sent Christmas gifts there for years.
It belonged to Margaret Reed.
