Chapter 5 - THE WOMAN IN THE GREEN GOWN
When I returned to Aspen, Sloane was waiting inside my temporary office.
Her green gown had been replaced by black trousers and a plain sweater.
The arrogant charity guest looked exhausted.
“I know you have no reason to trust me.”
“That is correct.”
“My father has disappeared.”
Harrison Harcourt had left the lodge before dawn.
His private jet filed a flight plan for the Cayman Islands but never departed.
Sloane’s calls went unanswered.
She placed her engagement ring on my desk.
The diamond was larger than anything Julian could reasonably afford.
Inside the band was a series of numbers.
They corresponded to a Summit Legacy account.
“Julian said it was our wedding account.”
“It contains twelve million dollars.”
“Where did the money come from?”
“The Sterling pension reserve.”
Sloane’s face became pale.
She claimed she knew nothing about stolen pensions.
Her father told her Summit Legacy was a legitimate acquisition company.
Julian promised that their wedding would finalize a transfer making the Harcourts partners in the resort.
Sloane had enjoyed believing she was entering an empire.
She had not questioned employees being afraid of her.
She had treated their fear as respect.
“What do you want from me?” I asked.
“To stop my father.”
“Why?”
“Because he sent me a message last night.”
She handed me her phone.
Do not speak to Elena.
Julian is expendable.
Leave the mountain before Thomas cleans this up.
Sloane looked toward the window.
“My father never warns me unless he believes I am also expendable.”
She provided emails, contracts, and recordings.
One recording captured Julian discussing our forged property transfer.
Another captured Thomas promising Harrison control of three resorts after my removal from the board.
“How were they planning to remove me?”
Sloane hesitated.
“They were collecting evidence that you neglected the company.”
“They wanted the board to declare you incapable of leadership.”
The surprise inspection had been anticipated.
Thomas knew I occasionally traveled under my mother’s name.
He instructed staff to report any unknown woman asking detailed questions.
Brooke Harcourt—Sloane’s cousin in reservations—had alerted Julian forty minutes before I reached the lobby.
The wine incident was not planned.
Sloane acted out of arrogance.
But Thomas immediately saw an opportunity.
If I became angry publicly, videos would show an unstable heiress attacking a guest.
Julian would call security.
Thomas would use the incident at the next board meeting.
My calm response destroyed the scene they needed.
Sloane looked down.
“I wanted to humiliate you because Julian described you as a spoiled owner who never worked.”
“I believed him because it made my own behavior feel justified.”
“That does not erase what you did.”
“I know.”
Her apology did not create trust.
Her evidence created usefulness.
Before she left, I returned the diamond ring.
She shook her head.
“It was purchased with stolen money.”
“It belongs in evidence.”
Our attorneys placed it inside a sealed bag.
Later that afternoon, investigators traced Harrison’s phone.
The signal came from an abandoned ski patrol station on Sterling Ridge.
Thomas’s vehicle was also there.
May you like
The station sat less than two miles from the site of my father’s crash.
They were searching for something my father had left on the mountain.
