Chapter 20
Cole had been staring at the same line in the equipment rental invoice for ten minutes when his phone rang.
It was Julie.
He answered before the second ring. “Hey.”
“I found something,” Julie said. “Can you meet me in my cottage in half an hour?”
Cole was already reaching for his jacket. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“That’s great.” He heard papers moving on her end. “I met a former employee of the county planning office this afternoon. I think I know who’s been sabotaging your equipment, Cole.”
His heart pounded as he grabbed his keys and hurried toward the front door. “I’m on my way.”
Cole drove across town faster than he should have. He’d spent months trying to find the people responsible for delaying the resort development. If Julie knew who was behind it, all they’d need was evidence to support what she’d discovered.
Julie had the front door open before he’d reached the veranda. “Come into the kitchen. I’ve put what I found in there.”
The table was covered in papers. There were printed spreadsheets, colored folders, and county documents with handwritten notes filling the margins.
“You’d better sit down,” Julie said as she handed him a folder.
Cole sat on the nearest chair and opened the folder. Inside was a copy of one of the financial documents he’d given her two weeks ago.
“Look on the third page,” Julie said, settling into the chair across from him. “At the Formal Environmental Public Comment. Look at the date it was filed.”
He stared at it. “That’s four days before we submitted the site assessment.”
“Someone knew you were applying for your permits before any of it was on the public record.” Julie leaned forward.
“Now cross-reference that with the anonymous complaints lodged with the county in January. I spent three days going through every one of them.” She reached across and turned to the next page.
“Each complaint used information that only existed in your internal planning documents. Survey figures. Infrastructure scheduling. Contractor agreements that were never made public.”
Cole felt something cold move through him. “We thought someone on the inside has been leaking information.”
“Someone with access,” Julie said. “I went further back through property records and business registrations. I called in a couple of favors with contacts at the county assessor’s office.” She paused. “Have you heard of a group called the Flathead Valley Community Watch?”
“I’ve seen the name on some of the complaint forms.”
“They’ve been coordinating the opposition,” Julie said.
“Filing the complaints, meeting with county commissioners, and presenting themselves as concerned locals.” She handed him another sheet.
“They’re funded by a shell company registered in Helena.
That company is a subsidiary of the Sargeson Group. ”
Cole looked up from the page.
“Marcus Harmon has been trying to acquire the Finley Point parcel for years,” Julie said.
“Long before you came into the picture. If your development fails, the land goes back on the market, and he picks it up, probably below the original asking price. He’s been paying someone, maybe more than one person, to feed your planning documents to the community group.
Not everyone in the group may know where the money is coming from.
But the opposition campaign they’ve been running isn’t grassroots.
It’s been organized and funded from outside. ”
Cole sat back. He’d known from early on that someone was working against him in an organized way. He’d suspected a competitor. But having it laid out like this with the timeline, the money trail, and the shell company, made it more real and deliberate than he’d let himself believe.
“How did you find the connection to Harmon?” Cole asked.
“Through his financial filings,” Julie replied. “Shell companies aren’t hard to trace if you’re willing to keep going through the layers. I kept going.” She picked up her coffee mug. “I used to do this for a living.”
Cole looked at her. She was waiting to see what he’d do with what she’d given him. He thought about what it had taken to get here. Three weeks of interviews, county offices, phone calls, and paper trails. She’d done it alone, in a town she barely knew, without a press pass or a newsroom behind her.
And she’d found what the sheriff’s department hadn’t.
“Julie.” He waited until she met his eyes. “This is incredible.”
She shook her head, but he kept going. “I mean it. You started with a handful of spreadsheets, and you found the person responsible for the damage.” Something close to pride crossed Julie’s face, and underneath that, something else he recognized.
Relief. The type of relief of someone who’d been doubting themselves for too long.
“Do you understand what this means for the project?” Cole asked. “We can take this evidence to the sheriff and show the county planners. It could be all we need to keep the project on track.”
“I hope it’s enough,” she said quietly.
“It will be.” He paused. “Before you came along, I was running out of options. I want you to know that.”
Julie looked down at the papers on the table. “Before I started helping you, I’d started to wonder if I still had it. Whether what I used to be good at had just... gone.” She glanced up. “It turns out it hadn’t.”
“No,” he said. “It hadn’t.”
She smiled. “Before all this, I couldn’t work out who was stealing my socks, let alone unravel a corporate conspiracy.”
Cole raised an eyebrow. “Someone’s stealing your socks?”
“My neighbor’s Siamese cat. His name is Pickles. He jumps higher than any cat I’ve ever met and looks suspiciously smug every time I see him.”
Cole laughed. It was a real one, the kind that loosened something in his chest he hadn’t realized was tight. “I almost feel sorry for him.”
“Don’t. He gets plenty of love and cuddles.” Julie’s smile softened and the laughter faded as she held Cole’s gaze.
Cole reached over and took her hand in his. She didn’t pull away.
He looked at her before turning over the words he wanted to say and discarding most of them. He wasn’t good at this. He’d never been good at this.
“I’ve built things my whole life,” he said finally. “Hotels, resorts, developments. I’d finish one and move on to the next before the paint was dry. I told myself that was just how I was wired.” He paused. “What I didn’t see was that I was always building for other people. Never for myself.”
Julie was watching him quietly.
“You’re the first person who’s made me want something that isn’t on a blueprint,” he said. “I don’t quite know what to do with that.”
The corner of Julie’s mouth lifted. “You’re doing all right so far.”
Cole sighed. “I didn’t think I’d meet someone who made me realize what’s been missing in my life, but you have.”
“Maybe we both needed to find our way here first,” she said.
Cole leaned forward. When he kissed Julie, it was unhurried and gentle—the kind of kiss that had been waiting for the right moment.
And they’d finally found it.