Chapter 16 - The Notebook and the CameraCeleste entered the room slowly.
Nobody spoke.
She looked from Daniel to Ivy, then at the phone in his hand.
"An emergency meeting?"
Daniel stood.
"I was going to tell you."
"Apparently."
Ivy glanced between them.
Daniel softened his voice.
"Sweetheart, would you go to your room for a little while?"
"Am I in trouble?"
"No."
June appeared in the hallway.
"I'll stay with her."
Ivy accepted June's hand and left.
Celeste waited until their footsteps faded.
Then she placed the blue notebook on the table.
"You wanted this."
Daniel looked at it.
"Thank you."
"Go on. Read it."
He opened the cover.
The first pages contained household notes and gardening plans.
Farther back were Nora's questions about repair expenses.
Several pages appeared to have been removed.
Daniel noticed the uneven binding.
"Where are the missing pages?"
Celeste looked offended.
"How should I know?"
"You've had it."
"I found it like that."
Daniel turned another page.
Nora had written:
Marshline cannot produce records of work. Ask Beatrice whether manager reimbursements were properly authorized. Do not confront until independent verification.
Daniel stared at the sentence.
Celeste watched his face.
"She was becoming suspicious of everyone."
"She was asking questions about money."
"She was dying, Daniel."
The cruelty of the argument struck him.
His grief was no longer something Celeste comforted.
It was something she used.
"Don't do that."
"Do what?"
"Use Nora's illness to dismiss what she wrote."
Celeste's eyes flashed.
"You think I wanted her to die?"
"No."
"You think I haven't suffered?"
"I know you've suffered."
"Then stop treating me like a thief!"
Her voice rose.
Daniel remained still.
"I haven't accused you of stealing."
"Not yet."
He closed the notebook.
"Celeste, the company is reviewing its accounts. You need to cooperate."
"And if I don't?"
"Then the company will have to pursue its legal options."
She stared.
The distance between them seemed suddenly immense.
"You used to trust me."
"I did."
"And now?"
Daniel looked at the notebook.
"Now I need evidence."
Celeste left without another word.
Daniel heard her bedroom door close.
For a long time, he stood alone.
He had imagined confronting her would produce relief.
Instead, he felt grief.
Not because she had proved innocent or guilty.
Because the woman who helped raise his daughter might be someone he no longer knew.
The university researcher contacted Maya the following day.
His name was Dr. Thomas Keene.
He supervised the dune-monitoring project at station D-4.
"I received your preservation request," he said. "We have retained the relevant storage media and project records."
Maya leaned forward.
"Does the camera cover the upper beach?"
"Partially. It's positioned to observe vegetation changes and movement along the dune line."
"Can it show the shoreline?"
"A section of the upper sand, depending on vegetation and conditions."
"Do you have images from July?"
"We believe so, but I haven't completed the data extraction for that period."
Maya looked toward Emma, seated beside her.
"Why not?"
"The device writes to local storage. Our remote monitoring system reports status and selected data, but the full-resolution images require collection and review. We also have institutional procedures for releasing images that may incidentally contain people."
Emma felt her pulse quicken.
"Was the device operating that morning?"
Keene checked his notes.
"The last status report before the incident indicates normal operation."
Maya asked, "Could the data be overwritten?"
"We've instructed the field team not to reuse the storage media. The station and its files are under preservation."
Emma closed her eyes briefly.
There was no guarantee the camera had captured anything useful.
But its data existed independently of Bellwether's security system.
Celeste could not log in and delete it.
"How soon can the relevant images be examined?" Maya asked.
Keene explained that the university would work with counsel and respond to appropriate legal requests.
Maya thanked him.
After the call, Emma stared at the map on the desk.
"You think it's there?"
"I think we have a legitimate reason to examine it."
"That's not what I asked."
Maya gave her a sympathetic look.
"I won't promise you something we haven't seen."
Emma nodded.
She preferred that to false confidence.
That evening, Owen Pike appeared at Bellwether Point without an appointment.
Celeste met him in the driveway.
His expression was colder than usual.
"You're losing control."
She crossed her arms.
"What do you want?"
"My attorneys reviewed the updated accounting questions. They are advising me to suspend negotiations."
"You can't."
"I can."
"We have an agreement."
"We have a preliminary proposal, subject to approvals and due diligence."
Celeste stepped closer.
"You know how much I've done to get this far."
Owen lowered his voice.
"That's precisely what worries me."
She stared at him.
Then she said, "Your company approved those consulting fees."
"Based on your representations."
"You benefited."
"That doesn't make the underlying records accurate."
A light came on inside the house.
Neither moved.
Owen continued.
"I want the original Seaward reports and the complete disclosure concerning the advisory arrangement."
Celeste gave a short laugh.
"And then?"
"Then we'll determine whether there's still a lawful transaction worth discussing."
She looked at the driveway.
For years, Owen had treated her like an indispensable partner.
Now he spoke as though she were an exposure he wanted removed from his balance sheet.
"You think you can walk away and leave me with everything?"
His jaw tightened.
"Celeste, what exactly happened to that child?"
The question stunned her.
He watched her expression.
"You never answered me."
"Ivy fell."
"Because you left her?"
Celeste said nothing.
Owen looked toward the ocean beyond the estate.
He was beginning to understand that the deal had involved more than manipulated numbers.
At last, he stepped backward.
"I want everything in writing from now on."
He returned to his car.
Celeste watched him drive away.
Then she looked up toward the house.
Daniel stood at an upstairs window.
He had seen Owen arrive.
He had seen the argument.
May you like
And although he could not hear a word, he understood something important.
Celeste and Owen were no longer behaving like people with the same story.
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