Chapter 11 - The Price of Silence
Renee warned Malcolm not to confront Patrick Sloan.
This time he listened.
Barely.
The state bar investigator did the confronting instead.
Sloan’s records were subpoenaed in connection with possible conflicts of interest, misuse of confidential information, and his role in Summit Crown’s access activities.
Meanwhile, Summit Crown withdrew its settlement offer.
Not reduced.
Withdrawn.
“They know we found something,” Tasha said.
Renee nodded.
“Or they want you frightened by the idea that you lost your chance.”
Malcolm looked at the withdrawn offer.
“Does it work?”
Tasha answered before Renee could.
“A little.”
Money changed the emotional temperature of every room.
Three point eight million dollars had existed yesterday.
Today it did not.
Their destroyed home still carried debt.
Insurance had not accepted full coverage because causation remained disputed.
The trust had legal expenses.
They were living in borrowed space.
Malcolm understood how people ended up surrendering truth for certainty.
Not because they were weak.
Because groceries still cost money while principles were being litigated.
That afternoon, Jordan started therapy.
Nia refused.
Instead, she told Tasha she wanted to sleep with her shoes on “in case the mountain comes.”
Tasha let her.
Malcolm objected privately.
“We can’t reinforce the fear.”
“She watched our house get buried.”
“We need normal routines.”
“Normal is gone.”
He stopped.
Tasha continued.
“We keep asking the children to behave like the event is over because the rocks stopped moving.”
Malcolm sat beside her.
“You’re angry.”
“Yes.”
“At me?”
“Partly.”
“For what?”
“For making this investigation the center of the family.”
His expression hardened.
“So I should let it go?”
“That is not what I said.”
“It sounds like it.”
“That is your favorite trick.”
“What trick?”
“Turning disagreement into betrayal.”
Malcolm stared.
Tasha’s voice trembled.
“I hid the Summit Crown offer. Celeste hid the trust problem. Your father hid the geological report. Sloan hid everything he could monetize. Everybody kept information because they were afraid of how somebody else would react.”
“And?”
“And you keep proving why.”
He stood.
“So this is my fault?”
Tasha laughed once.
“There. Again.”
Malcolm stopped.
She wiped tears angrily.
“I am not blaming you for the landslide. I am saying your anger fills every room so completely that nobody else can speak.”
He wanted to defend himself.
Instead he remembered Isaiah’s letter.
Listen to your children faster than I listened to mine.
Maybe it applied to wives too.
Malcolm sat again.
“What do you need?”
Tasha seemed surprised.
“A husband.”
“I’m here.”
“No. I need you here.”
That night Malcolm did not read legal documents.
He helped Jordan build a model airplane.
He let Nia fall asleep on his chest.
He washed dishes with Tasha.
Nothing was solved.
But for three hours, the family became more important than the case.
At 10:47 p.m., Renee called.
Patrick Sloan had agreed to provide documents in exchange for cooperation considerations with investigators.
“Why?” Malcolm asked.
“Because Summit Crown’s lawyers informed him they consider him an independent outside actor.”
Tasha raised an eyebrow.
“They’re sacrificing him.”
“Looks that way.”
“What did he give you?”
“Emails, invoices, internal notes.”
Malcolm stood.
“And?”
“Price knew about the 2019 instability report.”
“We already suspected that.”
“Now we can prove it.”
Renee continued.
“In February 2026, Summit Crown commissioned its own slope study.”
“What did it say?”
“That drilling within twenty meters of the primary fracture zone should be avoided without stabilization.”
Malcolm went still.
“Jordan’s footage?”
“Drilling occurred within that zone.”
Tasha whispered, “So they knew.”
“Yes.”
“Was the report shared with the county?”
“No.”
“Required?”
“Possibly, depending on the permit application.”
Malcolm asked the question that mattered.
“Did Price order blasting?”
“We don’t have that.”
“Rourke?”
“Still denies using explosives.”
“But residue exists.”
“Yes.”
“So somebody did.”
“Yes.”
Renee hesitated.
“And Sloan turned over a payment record.”
“To who?”
“A consulting company.”
“What company?”
“Appalachian Site Recovery.”
“Never heard of it.”
“You shouldn’t have.”
“Why?”
“It was formed eight months ago.”
“Owner?”
“Evan Rourke’s brother-in-law.”
Malcolm closed his eyes.
“How much?”
“Two hundred thousand dollars.”
“For what?”
“Hazard mitigation.”
Tasha laughed bitterly.
“They paid the man drilling the dangerous slope to mitigate the hazard.”
“That appears to be the description.”
Malcolm asked, “Where did the money go?”
“Most was transferred out within days.”
“To where?”
“Still tracing.”
Renee paused.
“Malcolm, there is one more thing.”
He waited.
“Sloan says Leon Price believed Isaiah had hidden a duplicate mineral assessment somewhere on the property.”
“The bunker.”
“Maybe.”
“What does that matter?”
“Because the detailed assessment identifies the richest potential quartz zone.”
Malcolm remembered Price’s purchase offer immediately after the landslide.
Tasha did too.
“He wasn’t trying to buy damaged land,” she said.
Renee replied, “He may have been trying to buy evidence.”
Malcolm looked toward the room where Nia slept.
The bunker had saved his children.
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Now it might contain the reason somebody had endangered them.
And suddenly Malcolm realized they had never emptied the hidden compartment completely.
