Chapter 6 - The Call at Ten Sixteen

Daniel took the call log to Helen instead of confronting Owen. The number was his, but the document was a photocopy without a provider's certification. Helen requested the original records through lawful channels and asked a digital-forensics specialist to examine the spare phone and any preserved backups.
"I was at a board dinner that night," Daniel said. "I left early after Mara texted me."
"Do you have the text?"
"My old phone was replaced after the funeral. Mother arranged it."
Helen made a note. "We need the device if it still exists."
At the hotel, June was helping Leah make paper snowflakes. She had slept through the night for the first time since Daniel found her outside. When he came in, she held up a crooked star.
"This one's for Mommy."
"She would love it."
"Grandma said Mommy left because I cried too much."
Daniel sat down beside her. "That wasn't true. Your mother loved you every day of her life."
June considered this carefully. "Then why did Grandma say it?"
"I don't know why she chose to say something cruel. But you never have to believe it."
He asked whether June wanted to speak with a counselor who helped children after frightening experiences. She nodded only after he promised he would remain nearby. The counselor later explained that June needed predictability, choice, and time—not repeated questioning about the family's secrets.
That afternoon, the phone company confirmed a call from Daniel's number to Mara at 10:16. The duration was forty-three seconds. The records could not establish who held the phone. Daniel remembered leaving his device on the boardroom table while he stepped out to take a call from a supplier. Owen had been in the room. So had Eleanor.
Leah searched old calendar invitations and found the board dinner had ended at 10:05. A parking-garage receipt placed Daniel's car leaving at 10:28. Mara's crash had been reported at 10:41.
"Somebody called her before I left," Daniel said.
"That's one possibility," Helen answered. "We still need evidence."
Ruth arrived carrying an old shoebox. Inside was Daniel's previous phone, cracked across the screen.
"Your mother told me to throw it away," she said. "I kept it because June had recorded a song on it."
The specialist recovered a partial backup. At 10:16, the phone had connected to Mara, but a voice memo accidentally recorded at the same time contained the scrape of a chair and a man's voice saying, "Tell her the meeting moved to Hawthorne."
Daniel recognized Owen's voice. Helen cautioned that a specialist would need to authenticate the recording before it could support a formal allegation.
The next file was a short video recorded by June weeks earlier. She had been playing under the boardroom table during a family lunch, filming her stuffed rabbit. In the background, Eleanor handed Owen a folder labeled WINTER HOUSE: SECOND LIST. Owen said, "After Christmas, nobody will ask where the children went."
The words might have referred to grant recipients, Helen said, but they were serious enough to investigate. Daniel looked at the video and remembered June laughing at her rabbit. His daughter had been in the room while adults discussed using children as entries on a spreadsheet.
At sunset, a city employee confirmed that footage from the intersection had been retained in an archive because of a separate traffic investigation. Helen submitted a preservation request immediately.
Before dinner, Daniel received a voicemail from Eleanor. She sounded tired rather than angry.
May you like
"Your father tried to stop this twenty years ago," she said. "Ask Ruth why he disappeared the week before Christmas."
Daniel's father had died when Daniel was twelve. At least, that was what Eleanor had always told him.