Chapter 13 - October Thirty-First
The date meant nothing to Malcolm.
At first.
Renee found the answer in the trust documents.
Summit Crown held an option agreement connected to a neighboring 600-acre parcel.
The option expired October 31.
If exercised, Summit Crown could purchase the neighboring land for $12 million.
But the deal required guaranteed road access across the eastern ridge corridor.
Without the Brooks easement, the resort plan became dramatically more expensive.
Tasha spread the maps across the safe-house dining table.
“So they needed our land before October thirty-first.”
“Or needed the ridge declared damaged enough that we’d sell cheaply,” Malcolm said.
Renee nodded.
“A catastrophic slope failure also creates arguments about diminished property value.”
Malcolm stared.
“They thought burying my house would make me grateful for an offer.”
“We do not yet have proof anyone intended your house to be hit.”
“They knew where the fracture was.”
“Yes.”
“They knew we lived below it.”
“Yes.”
“They knew I was supposed to be in Charlotte.”
Renee paused.
“Yes.”
Tasha’s face went pale.
The implication was worse spoken sequentially.
Malcolm left the room.
Tasha followed him onto the porch.
“Where are you going?”
“Nowhere.”
“You’re walking like you’re going somewhere.”
He stopped at the railing.
“I keep seeing Jordan running.”
Tasha said nothing.
“Nia fell.”
“I know.”
“If I had needed five more seconds…”
“Don’t.”
“If the bunker door had stuck—”
“Malcolm.”
He gripped the railing.
“I keep thinking about Price asking Celeste whether we were home.”
Tasha stepped beside him.
“We survived.”
“That doesn’t erase intent.”
“No.”
“I want him to know what it feels like to be afraid.”
Tasha looked at him.
“That sentence scares me.”
Malcolm turned.
She did not back away.
“I don’t mean I’m going to hurt him.”
“I know. But I need you to hear yourself.”
His shoulders dropped.
Tasha continued.
“Price may have treated our lives like numbers in a business plan. Don’t let him turn you into someone who thinks fear is justice.”
Malcolm looked toward the trees.
“You always know what to say.”
“No. I just know what I’m afraid of.”
He took her hand.
Inside, Jordan called them.
A television reporter was discussing the case.
Summit Crown had issued a stronger denial, accusing “interested parties” of spreading unverified claims.
Leon Price appeared briefly on camera.
“Our company did not authorize illegal blasting. We are cooperating fully and remain committed to responsible development.”
Jordan muted the television.
“He lies weird.”
Malcolm looked at him.
“What does that mean?”
“He blinks after he says ‘illegal blasting.’”
Tasha almost smiled.
“You’ve been watching too many interrogation videos.”
“Probably.”
Nia sat on the carpet drawing another picture.
This time no bunker.
Just four people holding hands.
Malcolm noticed.
“What’s this one?”
“Our next house.”
“Where is it?”
Nia shrugged.
“Flat.”
Everyone laughed.
The sound surprised them.
That night, Mercer called with news.
Patrick Sloan had not fled far.
He had checked himself into a hospital after experiencing chest pain.
He agreed to cooperate fully.
Not because his conscience suddenly awakened.
Because he had learned Summit Crown planned to blame him for the entire operation.
Sloan’s statement was devastating.
Leon Price had ordered staff to create financial pressure on Celeste.
He had used Sloan’s knowledge of trust irregularities as leverage.
Price knew Isaiah’s geological report existed.
He knew the fracture line.
He authorized Rourke’s drilling.
But Sloan denied that Price explicitly ordered explosives.
“Then who did?” Malcolm asked.
Mercer answered, “Sloan says he did.”
Silence.
Tasha whispered, “Patrick Sloan placed the charges?”
“No. He says he ordered them.”
“Why?”
“Price told him the ridge needed a ‘visible stability event’ before the option deadline.”
Malcolm felt sick.
“Visible stability event.”
“That’s Sloan’s phrase.”
“And Sloan interpreted that as blasting?”
“Yes.”
“Did Price know?”
“Sloan says Price never said the word explosives.”
“How convenient.”
“Very.”
According to Sloan, the plan was to create limited rock movement high on the ridge.
Enough to damage the logging path.
Enough to support an emergency access and stabilization proposal.
Enough to frighten the family into selling.
Not enough to reach the house.
Tasha sat down.
“They thought they could control a mountain.”
Mercer replied, “That appears to be the theory.”
“Who physically placed the charges?”
“Sloan paid a former blasting technician named Wade Harlan.”
“Where is he?”
“In custody.”
Malcolm shut his eyes.
Finally.
A human chain.
Price applied pressure.
Sloan translated pressure into a plan.
Sloan bribed Rourke for access.
Harlan stole explosives from disposal stock.
Three charges entered the fracture.
The cliff did the rest.
Mercer continued.
“Harlan says he warned Sloan the rock was too unstable.”
“And?”
“Sloan offered him another five thousand.”
Malcolm laughed once, disgusted.
“What did Harlan think would happen?”
“He says a controlled surface break.”
“My children were twelve and seven.”
“I know.”
Malcolm walked outside again after the call.
He stood beneath a clear night sky.
The mountain was twenty miles away, invisible from here.
For the first time, he did not miss it.
Then Renee called.
“Do not celebrate yet.”
“I wasn’t.”
“Good.”
“Why?”
“Summit Crown just filed a petition.”
“For what?”
“To remove you as co-trustee.”
Malcolm stared into darkness.
“On what grounds?”
“Financial incapacity, conflict of interest, and alleged emotional decision-making.”
Tasha overheard.
Her expression hardened.
Renee continued.
“They want control of the trust before October thirty-first.”
Malcolm finally understood.
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The landslide had failed to make him sell.
So now they intended to take the decision away from him.
