Chapter 3 - The Camera Window
Victoria claimed her login had been used without permission.
Again, possible.
Again, convenient.
The lodge’s technology manager, Luis Ortega, arrived before midnight.
He examined the system logs.
“Could someone know your password?” he asked.
Victoria crossed her arms.
“Staff could have seen it.”
“Your account uses two-factor authentication.”
“What does that prove?”
“It sent a code to your phone.”
“I may have approved something without reading it.”
Luis looked uncomfortable.
“That’s possible.”
Ethan turned away.
Always possible.
Every fact came with a door large enough for Victoria to slip through.
Then Luis said:
“There’s a second log.”
Victoria’s gaze sharpened.
The security system recorded physical access-card use.
At 1:42 a.m., Victoria’s personal keycard opened the basement service corridor.
At 2:06, it opened the archive room from inside.
At 2:10, the elevator reached her private residential floor.
James looked at her.
“Still winter linens?”
Victoria’s expression finally hardened.
“I removed personal documents belonging to me.”
“From Claire’s archive?” Sarah asked.
“Family papers.”
“Where are they?”
“Safe.”
Daniel Foster stood.
“Ms. Hale, if documents relevant to an estate or corporate investigation were removed after Claire’s death, you should speak to counsel before answering further.”
Victoria stared at him.
“Are you threatening me?”
“No.”
“I know what lawyers sound like.”
“So do I.”
Victoria left the room.
Nobody stopped her.
Ethan stared after her.
“Why can’t we make her give the box back?”
Daniel answered.
“Because we need to proceed properly.”
“She stole it.”
“We do not yet know what she removed or who legally owned it.”
“You saw the logs.”
“I saw evidence she entered the archive.”
Ethan slammed his hand onto the table.
“She kicked my mother’s urn!”
Sarah flinched.
James moved closer.
“Ethan.”
“No. Everyone keeps talking like she deserves unlimited chances to explain.”
Daniel did not look offended.
“You are right to be angry.”
“That’s not useful.”
“No.”
Daniel closed his briefcase.
“But accuracy is useful.”
Ethan stared.
Daniel continued.
“If your aunt took estate records, there are legal ways to compel their return. If she altered or destroyed them, consequences can follow. If we accuse her of more than we can prove, we make it easier for her to argue everyone around Claire was acting irrationally.”
Ethan hated him a little for making sense.
The next morning, they drove to the Pitkin County courthouse in heavy snow.
Ethan did not attend the private probate hearing.
He waited with James in a hallway.
Victoria sat forty feet away with her attorney, Charles Weller.
She did not look at Ethan.
Sarah emerged after almost an hour.
“What happened?” Ethan asked.
“Temporary appointment.”
“Who?”
“Me.”
Victoria appeared behind her.
“For fourteen days,” she said coldly.
Sarah ignored her.
The court had appointed Sarah temporary special administrator with limited authority to preserve estate assets until further review.
She could not distribute property.
She could not sell company shares.
She could secure records.
Inventory accounts.
Coordinate with independent professionals.
Victoria’s lawyer had formally filed notice of a possible will contest.
Ethan’s stomach turned.
“How long can that take?”
Daniel answered.
“Months. Sometimes longer.”
“Months?”
“If contested.”
Victoria walked past them.
“You might want to prepare him for the possibility that Claire’s final documents do not survive review.”
Ethan stepped toward her.
James caught his shoulder.
Victoria smiled faintly.
There was something victorious in it.
Too victorious.
Ethan stopped.
“Why are you happy?”
Her smile disappeared.
“You think you know everything because a recording played for thirty seconds.”
“No.”
He looked at her.
“But you look less afraid than last night.”
Victoria’s eyes narrowed.
“Maybe because adults understand court better than children.”
She walked away.
Ethan watched.
“What changed?”
James asked.
“What?”
“She was panicking at the lodge. Now she isn’t.”
Sarah looked thoughtful.
Daniel said nothing.
Ethan continued.
“She thinks she found something.”
That afternoon, Sarah and the forensic accountant, Marissa Chen, began securing Claire’s company records.
Ethan was not permitted to participate.
He hated that too.
Instead, James took him home.
Not the lodge.
Their townhouse in Basalt.
Ethan sat on the couch staring at nothing.
“What if she wins?”
James asked, “Victoria?”
“What if the new will gets thrown out?”
James considered.
“Then the previous estate plan may control, depending on the court’s findings.”
“Who got the lodge before?”
James hesitated.
“Claire’s older will divided company shares. Some to you in trust. Some to Victoria.”
“How much?”
“Victoria would have received twenty-five percent.”
“And now?”
“Nothing from Claire’s shares.”
Ethan understood.
Victoria was not fighting over an insult.
She stood to lose millions.
“What did Mom leave her?”
“In the new will? A letter.”
Ethan looked up.
“Just a letter?”
“Yes.”
“What does it say?”
“I don’t know.”
Daniel had not opened it because personal letters were sealed unless distribution became appropriate.
Ethan almost smiled.
His mother could be vicious in extremely organized ways.
James’s phone rang.
Sarah.
He answered.
Listened.
Then stood.
“What?”
James put the call on speaker.
Sarah’s voice shook.
“We found Claire’s safe open.”
Daniel was with her.
He took over.
“The lower archive safe should contain original property documents, backup audit media, and two signed memoranda.”
“What’s missing?” James asked.
“All of it.”
Ethan’s stomach dropped.
Sarah continued.
“But Victoria made a mistake.”
“What?”
“She took the paper.”
A pause.
“Claire stored encrypted cloud backups.”
Ethan sat forward.
Daniel said:
“And Marissa just accessed them.”
“What’s there?”
“The preliminary audit.”
James went silent.
“How bad?”
Daniel took a breath.
“Alpine Vista Consulting is not independent.”
“Who owns it?”
“That is the problem.”
“Who?”
“On paper, a Nevada holding company.”
“And behind that?”
“We’re tracing it.”
Sarah interrupted.
“Marissa found the beneficial-owner disclosure Claire obtained privately.”
Ethan stood.
“Whose name?”
Nobody answered immediately.
Then Sarah said:
“Victoria’s son.”
Ethan frowned.
Victoria’s son, Lucas Hale, was twenty-eight.
He lived in London.
He claimed to work in private equity.
Ethan had met him perhaps six times.
James whispered, “Lucas owns Alpine Vista?”
“Forty-nine percent.”
“And the other fifty-one?”
Sarah’s voice became quieter.
“That’s why we called.”
Ethan gripped the edge of the table.
The majority owner was not Victoria.
It was someone whose name Ethan had never expected to see anywhere near the missing money.
May you like
James Cole.
His father.
