Chapter 5 - THE PROPERTY ACROSS THE HIGHWAY
I stood beside Rosa, staring at the beautiful resort across the road.
The contrast was almost unbearable.
Behind us, Harborlight's roof leaked into plastic buckets.
Across the highway, men were installing marble around an infinity pool.
“And you're certain our company paid for those materials?” I asked.
Rosa nodded.
“I've been checking delivery tags for months.”
“Why didn't you report it?”
“I did.”
She pointed toward the filing cabinet.
“You've already seen what happened to my reports.”
I asked her to accompany me across the highway.
The development was called Blue Heron Point.
At its entrance, a polished stone sign announced an opening date later that year.
The gate attendant initially refused us entry.
Then Rosa recognized the construction supervisor.
“Thomas Quinn,” she called.
A broad-shouldered man wearing a yellow hard hat turned.
His face changed when he saw me.
“Mrs. Reed?”
We had met years earlier during the Harborlight acquisition.
Thomas had worked on the original renovation plans.
“Thomas, whose project is this?”
He glanced toward the gate.
“Blue Heron Land Development.”
“And who owns that company?”
“That's above my pay grade.”
“Who hired you?”
“Sable Coast Consulting.”
My stomach tightened.
The company receiving millions from our accounts.
“Thomas, did Sable Coast pay you with money allocated for Harborlight?”
He rubbed his forehead.
“I don't know where the money originated. I know the purchase orders came through the Harborlight project account.”
He opened his tablet and showed me several delivery records.
Steel.
Windows.
Electrical equipment.
Pool machinery.
The shipping descriptions matched invoices I'd reviewed in New York.
But the delivery address was here.
Blue Heron Point.
Not Harborlight.
I photographed the records with Thomas's permission.
“Why didn't you question the discrepancy?” I asked.
“I did. Jason told me both properties were part of a consolidated development.”
A consolidated development.
That was the phrase he had used in three annual investor reports.
I'd assumed it meant shared infrastructure.
Apparently, he'd used it to blur the difference between what our company owned and what someone else controlled.
Thomas looked ashamed.
“I should have asked more questions.”
“So should I,” I admitted.
Inside the construction office, a large development map covered the wall.
Blue Heron Point occupied the most valuable beachfront property.
Harborlight appeared as a smaller neighboring parcel.
A dotted line connected the two.
“What does this line mean?” I asked.
Thomas hesitated.
“That's the proposed access easement.”
“Across our property?”
“Yes.”
“For what?”
“Service vehicles. Deliveries. Emergency access.”
I stared at him.
Blue Heron Point needed our land to operate efficiently.
But our company wasn't listed as its owner.
“Who approved the easement?”
“Jason's development office.”
“Was it completed?”
“Not yet. They're waiting on a final certification.”
That meant the private resort's most valuable access arrangement might still be stopped.
I called Daniel from outside the construction office.
After explaining what I'd found, I asked him to preserve the original purchase orders and identify every transaction associated with Sable Coast.
He sounded deeply concerned.
“Natalie, we've already discovered another problem.”
“What problem?”
“Jason's office submitted a request this morning to transfer two-point-one million dollars from our operating reserve.”
I gripped my phone.
“To whom?”
“Sable Coast.”
“Has the money gone?”
“Not yet. Elaine flagged the payment for review.”
I let out a breath.
“Good. Keep it there.”
“Jason claims the transfer is necessary to prevent a loan default.”
“Then he can explain it before anyone approves another dollar.”
When I returned to Rosa, she was waiting beside her truck.
“Did you find what you needed?”
“Some of it.”
She looked toward Blue Heron Point.
“You know what's worse than the money?”
I shook my head.
“Those men are building luxury suites while people who worked here for twenty years are struggling to pay rent.”
I didn't argue.
She was right.
As we walked back toward Harborlight, Thomas hurried after us carrying a rolled-up site schedule.
“Mrs. Reed, there's one more thing.”
He opened the paper across Rosa's truck hood.
It showed the upcoming construction milestones.
One item had been highlighted in red.
MONDAY, 8:00 A.M. — CLEAR HARBORLIGHT SERVICE ACCESS AND REMOVE REMAINING STRUCTURES.
Rosa stared at the page.
“Remaining structures?”
Thomas nodded grimly.
“The contractor was told those cottages would be empty.”
My blood ran cold.
Fourteen employees still worked at Harborlight.
May you like
Several families lived in the old staff cottages.
And Jason had apparently scheduled their homes for demolition.
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