“You recommended renewal.”
“So did the operations committee.”
“Did they know your family relationship to owner?”
“Bruce is my brother-in-law.”
“Did they know?”
Silence.
Elaine leaned back.
“No.”
Dean’s attorney had not arrived because Dean did not know he needed one.
He tried another route.
“The Carter diversion is unsafe.”
Elaine stared.
“What?”
“That farm project is why we’re here.”
“No.”
“We’re here because money moved from our disposal contractor into your private LLC.”
Dean looked around.
“The kid is taking untreated fish waste to agricultural land.”
“Under county pilot.”
“Temporary.”
“Yes.”
“He is thirteen.”
Elaine’s voice sharpened.
“Stop saying his age like it explains your account.”
Dean’s face flushed.
The board placed him on leave.
Then hired outside review.
Harbor Point’s disposal contract was reopened for bids.
The news spread through docks in six hours.
Walt called Noah that evening.
Noah was doing homework.
“You sitting?”
“Yes.”
“Dean’s out.”
Noah stood.
“What?”
“Board leave.”
“Because of us?”
“No.”
Walt paused.
“Because of him.”
Noah listened while Walt explained what little he knew.
Afterward Noah sat at kitchen table.
Luke entered.
“What happened?”
Noah told him.
Luke did not smile.
Noah frowned.
“You’re not happy?”
“About what?”
“Dean.”
Luke poured water.
“I’m happy vendors may get better deal.”
“But he laughed at us.”
“Yes.”
“He tried to shut us down.”
“Maybe.”
“He complained.”
“We still don’t know.”
Noah stared.
“You don’t want him punished?”
Luke sat.
“If he took money improperly, consequences belong to evidence.”
“Not to how satisfying it feels because he embarrassed you.”
Noah looked away.
“That’s annoying.”
“I’m a father.”
“Job description.”
Weeks passed.
The first compost batch failed.
Not legally.
Agronomically.
Noah knew before lab results arrived.
It smelled wrong.
Too much nitrogen had been added early.
The pile heated fast, then compacted.
Final material was usable after reprocessing but nowhere near premium product.
Noah sat on a stack of pallets holding the lab sheet.
Organic matter good.
Salinity too high for some intended uses.
Immature.
Needs further curing.
His eyes burned.
Dr. Morales stood beside him.
“Congratulations.”
Noah glared.
“It failed.”
“No.”
“It told you something.”
“That is what trials are for.”
“I promised Dad.”
“You promised your father your first industrial-scale compost pile would be perfect?”