Chapter 7 - The Call That Exposed Them
I stared at the ringing phone.
For fourteen months, I had imagined finding something of Lauren's that would make me feel close to her again.
A letter.
A photograph.
A forgotten voice message.
Instead, I was holding a device that might explain why she was dead.
The phone vibrated again.
Annie stood in the kitchen doorway.
"Mr. Morrison?"
I raised one finger.
Then answered.
I didn't speak.
For two seconds, there was silence.
Then Charles's voice filled my ear.
"Rebecca, listen carefully."
I felt the blood drain from my face.
"The situation has changed."
He paused.
"Daniel knows more than we expected."
I gripped the phone.
"We need to move everything tonight."
Another pause.
"Are you listening?"
I said nothing.
Charles exhaled angrily.
"Don't tell me you've lost the phone."
I finally spoke.
"Hello, Charles."
Silence.
Complete silence.
Then a faint sound.
A chair scraping.
"Daniel?"
"Yes."
Another pause.
"Where is Rebecca?"
"I was hoping you could tell me."
His breathing changed.
"Listen to me."
"I'm listening."
"Whatever you've found, don't jump to conclusions."
I looked at Annie.
She was staring at me in horror.
"What exactly shouldn't I conclude?"
Charles lowered his voice.
"That someone tried to hurt Lauren."
The words froze me.
I hadn't said anything about someone hurting her.
I hadn't mentioned Jordan's drawing.
I hadn't mentioned the black car.
Yet Charles knew what conclusion I was reaching.
"Why would I think that?"
He hesitated.
"Because you're grieving."
"No."
I walked into the study and shut the door.
"Try again."
"Daniel—"
"Why would you think I suspect someone hurt my wife?"
Charles said nothing.
I waited.
Finally, he spoke.
"Meet me tonight."
"At the old headquarters?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because I can explain."
"Explain what?"
A long pause.
Then he said, "Why Lauren was afraid."
I leaned against the desk.
The room seemed to tilt.
"What did she find?"
Charles lowered his voice further.
"Something much bigger than you understand."
"Then tell me now."
"I can't."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't know who's listening."
I glanced at the silver phone.
"Whose phone is this?"
He didn't answer.
"Charles?"
He finally said, "You shouldn't have it."
I laughed once.
It was an ugly sound.
"My dead wife's phone shouldn't be in my possession?"
"That's not what I meant."
"Then what did you mean?"
He was silent.
I continued.
"Rebecca was leaving the country."
Charles cursed under his breath.
"You found the itinerary."
"Yes."
"Daniel, do not confront her."
"Why?"
"Because she's desperate."
I stared at the wall.
"Desperate about what?"
Charles exhaled.
"Seven tonight."
"Not good enough."
"Bring the phone."
The line went dead.
I stood alone for several seconds.
Then I called Marcus.
"Record preservation."
"What?"
"I need every message, call log, photograph, and file from Lauren's phone copied under proper forensic procedures."
"Understood."
"And Charles just called it."
Marcus was silent.
"Sir?"
"Rebecca has been communicating with him."
"I see."
"No, Marcus."
I looked down at the phone.
"I don't think any of us see the full picture."
Annie knocked softly.
"Mr. Morrison?"
I opened the door.
Her face was pale.
"The boys are asking for you."
I looked at my watch.
4:26 p.m.
I had nearly three hours before Charles's meeting.
Three hours to decide whether I was walking into a trap.
"Where are they?"
"In the kitchen."
I returned downstairs.
Jordan was sitting at the table.
Justin stood beside him.
Between them was a plate of peanut-butter sandwiches.
Neither boy was eating.
When they saw me, Justin climbed down from his chair.
"Daddy?"
"Yes?"
"Are you leaving?"
I stopped.
I could have told him I had work.
I could have promised to come home soon.
I had done both things hundreds of times.
Instead, I pulled out a chair.
"Not yet."
Justin climbed into my lap.
He was heavier than I remembered.
I couldn't remember the last time he'd sat there.
Jordan watched cautiously.
"Can I sit too?"
I opened my other arm.
"There's room."
He climbed up.
For a while, neither child spoke.
Then Justin whispered, "Mommy used to do this."
I closed my eyes.
"I know."
Jordan touched my cheek.
"Are you sad?"
I swallowed.
"Very."
"Because Mommy died?"
"Yes."
He thought about that.
Then said something so simple that it nearly undid me.
"We're sad too."
I pulled both boys close.
"I'm sorry I haven't been here."
Jordan leaned against me.
"Will you be here tomorrow?"
I kissed the top of his head.
"Yes."
"Even if we cry?"
My throat closed.
"Especially if you cry."
Annie turned away.
I saw her wipe her eyes.
For the first time in fourteen months, I didn't feel like the chief executive of a multibillion-dollar company.
I felt like a father.
An inadequate one.
But a father who still had time to change.
At six-thirty, Marcus arrived.
He brought a retired police investigator named Thomas Keene.
Keene had spent twenty-seven years investigating financial crime and complex corporate fraud.
He examined Lauren's phone without connecting it to our household network.
Then he looked at me.
"Mr. Morrison, I strongly recommend you don't attend that meeting."
"Why?"
"Because we don't know whether Charles Voss is trying to help you or silence you."
"I need answers."
"Then let us get them safely."
I looked toward the kitchen.
Annie was helping Justin wash his hands.
Jordan was laughing at something she had said.
The sound struck me with almost physical force.
Laughter.
In my house.
I hadn't heard it in so long.
I looked back at Keene.
"Make the arrangements."
He nodded.
"And Mr. Morrison?"
"Yes?"
"There's something you should see."
He turned Lauren's phone toward me.
An unsent draft message had been recovered.
It was addressed to my number.
The message contained only two sentences.
Daniel, Charles isn't the one making the decisions.
If I disappear, look inside the foundation's children's hospital project.
I stared at the screen.
Then I read the second sentence again.
The children's hospital project.
Our largest charitable initiative.
The one Lauren had fought to establish.
And the project I had personally approved six months before her death.
A terrible thought entered my mind.
What if Lauren hadn't discovered corruption outside my company?
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What if the danger had been built with my money?
And what if I had signed the paperwork that made it possible?
