Chapter 5 - The Doctor Who Never Examined MargaretDaniel called Margaret’s primary physician from the bedroom.
Dr. Emily Foster had treated Margaret for eleven years.
He put the call on speaker.
“Dr. Foster, has my mother ever been diagnosed with dementia?”
“No.”
“Memory impairment?”
“No.”
“Alzheimer’s?”
“Absolutely not.”
Daniel looked at Vanessa.
She looked toward the window.
“Has anyone prescribed her donepezil?”
Dr. Foster paused.
“Not through my office.”
“What would happen if someone without dementia took it?”
“It can cause nausea, dizziness, slowed heart rate, fainting, sleep disturbances. Why?”
Daniel looked at the pill bottle Maria had found at the back of the drawer.
“We found medication in her room.”
“Daniel, don’t give her anything until I see it.”
“Could it make her seem confused?”
“Potentially, especially in combination with other drugs.”
Maria began examining every bottle.
She found another one.
Diphenhydramine.
An over-the-counter antihistamine that could worsen confusion in older adults.
Then a prescription sedative.
Margaret had never been prescribed that either.
Daniel ended the call.
The silence afterward felt heavier than shouting.
He looked at his wife.
“Who put these here?”
Vanessa shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
“You manage Mom’s pharmacy deliveries.”
“Sometimes.”
“You arranged the specialist.”
“Yes.”
“What specialist?”
“Dr. Kessler.”
“Full name.”
“Howard Kessler.”
Daniel searched the name.
Nothing.
“Where does he practice?”
Vanessa hesitated.
“Greenwich.”
“What clinic?”
“I don’t remember.”
Daniel looked at Maria.
“Did a doctor come here?”
Maria nodded slowly.
“Two weeks ago.”
“What did he do?”
“He asked Mrs. Whitmore memory questions.”
Margaret’s face tightened.
“He was insulting.”
Maria continued.
“He asked her the date. The president. Where she lived. Then Mrs. Vanessa answered several questions for her.”
Daniel looked at his mother.
“Did he examine you?”
“He listened to my heart for maybe thirty seconds.”
“Blood work?”
“No.”
“Medical history?”
“No.”
“Did he prescribe anything?”
Vanessa interrupted.
“This is absurd.”
Daniel turned.
“Did he?”
“He recommended treatment.”
“For a condition she doesn’t have?”
“He thought she showed signs of decline.”
“Where is his report?”
Vanessa said nothing.
Daniel called Caleb Ross.
The company attorney answered on the second ring.
“Daniel. Everything okay?”
“No.”
“What happened?”
“My mother says Vanessa assaulted her.”
Silence.
Then Caleb said, “Is Margaret having another episode?”
Daniel’s entire body went still.
“Another what?”
“Vanessa told me there were concerns about cognitive decline.”
Daniel looked at Vanessa.
She refused to meet his eyes.
“How long has she been telling you that?”
“A few months.”
“And what did you do with that information?”
“Daniel…”
“Answer me.”
“We discussed estate continuity.”
“The Whitmore Family Asset Trust?”
Caleb paused.
That was answer enough.
“You prepared it.”
“I prepared a draft.”
“On whose instructions?”
“Vanessa’s, initially.”
Daniel’s jaw tightened.
“Why would you prepare documents affecting my shares on my wife’s instructions without speaking to me?”
“She said you were aware.”
“I wasn’t.”
“Then obviously we have a communication problem.”
Daniel almost laughed.
“Is that what you call it?”
He glanced at the text message on his phone.
ASK YOUR WIFE WHO CALEB ROSS REALLY WORKS FOR.
“Caleb, do you represent Northline Holdings?”
Another pause.
“No.”
“Have you ever?”
“Daniel, attorney-client confidentiality—”
Daniel ended the call.
Vanessa stared at him.
“What did he say?”
“You tell me.”
“What?”
“Does Caleb work for Northline?”
“No.”
“Did you ask him to create the trust?”
“Yes, because we discussed it.”
“We never discussed it.”
“We did.”
“When?”
“Three weeks ago.”
“Where?”
“At home.”
“What room?”
Vanessa’s confidence faltered.
“The study.”
Daniel thought back.
Three weeks ago.
He remembered being in the study.
He remembered Vanessa bringing him a drink.
He remembered reading emails.
Then nothing until nearly midnight.
A signed set of papers had been on his desk the next morning.
He had assumed they were vendor approvals.
Daniel’s stomach turned.
“Maria.”
She looked at him.
“Did my mother ever tell you I’d been acting strangely?”
Maria hesitated.
Margaret answered.
“Yes.”
Daniel looked at her.
“What did you notice?”
“You forgot lunch with me twice.”
“That happens.”
“You called me one evening and repeated the same conversation twenty minutes later.”
Daniel said nothing.
“You fell asleep at the Thanksgiving table.”
“I was exhausted.”
“You had two sips of wine.”
His mind began assembling memories he did not want assembled.
Vanessa appearing with drinks.
Unexplained sleep.
Documents.
Missing hours.
His wife repeatedly joking that he “couldn’t handle alcohol anymore.”
Daniel turned toward her.
“What have you been putting in my drinks?”
Vanessa laughed.
But this time the sound was wrong.
“You sound insane.”
“Answer me.”
“Nothing.”
Daniel walked to the bedroom door.
He unlocked it.
Vanessa looked relieved.
Then Daniel stepped aside.
“You can leave.”
She stared at him.
“But don’t leave the property.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m calling the police.”
Her face changed.
Not dramatically.
Just enough.
Daniel had been married to Vanessa for five years.
He knew every expression she used when angry, amused, embarrassed, jealous or tired.
This one was new.
It was the expression of someone watching a plan collapse faster than she could repair it.
And then Vanessa’s phone began to ring.
The name on the screen was visible from where Daniel stood.
CALEB.
She declined the call.
It rang again.
And again.
Daniel looked at her.
“He seems worried.”
Vanessa put the phone in her pocket.
“He’s doing his job.”
Daniel’s own phone vibrated seconds later.
Another message from the unknown number.
This time there was no photograph.
May you like
Just four words.
CHECK YOUR HOME OFFICE CAMERA.
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