Chapter 5 - Vanessa’s Doctor Arrived Before Ethan Called AnyoneDr. Martin Hale arrived at the Malibu mansion twenty-three minutes later.
Ethan had not called him.
That mattered.
Marcus escorted Hale through the kitchen while Ethan remained with Sophie.
Vanessa sat in the living room beneath the enormous windows overlooking the Pacific.
Her posture had changed again.
She looked small.
Fragile.
Confused.
If Ethan had not watched her transform repeatedly, he might have believed it.
Hale was sixty-three, silver-haired, polished, and discreet—the kind of physician wealthy families trusted because he knew how not to ask embarrassing questions.
“Ethan,” Hale said, “your mother contacted me.”
“When?”
“Earlier today.”
Ethan looked at Vanessa.
She lowered her eyes.
Hale continued.
“She’s been experiencing concerning symptoms.”
“Such as?”
“Memory lapses. Emotional instability. Disorientation.”
“How long?”
“Several weeks.”
Ethan nearly smiled.
“Convenient.”
Hale frowned.
“This isn’t a joke.”
“No.”
Ethan opened his phone.
“It really isn’t.”
He played the security footage.
Vanessa shouting.
Sophie crying.
The trash bin.
Then Ethan entering.
Panic.
Release.
Instant confusion.
Hale’s expression slowly changed.
“That doesn’t rule out a neurological episode.”
“Does neurological illness know my travel schedule?”
“What?”
Ethan played another clip.
Deleted footage.
Vanessa locking Sophie outside.
Threatening her.
Talking about Rachel.
Then another.
Vanessa grabbing Sophie’s arm because she refused to finish dinner.
Another.
Vanessa telling Sophie:
“If you tell Daddy everything, he’ll think you’re difficult.”
Another.
Vanessa saying:
“Your mother ruined enough. Don’t become like her.”
Hale stopped watching.
Vanessa whispered, “Martin.”
The doctor looked at her.
Not as a physician.
As someone frightened by what she might say next.
Ethan noticed.
“You two already knew about Rachel’s investigation.”
Silence.
“Hale.”
The doctor stiffened.
“I treated Rachel occasionally.”
“You weren’t her oncologist.”
“No.”
“Yet you managed her medication.”
“I coordinated palliative care.”
“At my mother’s request.”
“Yes.”
Ethan held Rachel’s letter.
“Did Rachel ever tell you she was afraid of Vanessa?”
Hale looked toward the window.
Vanessa spoke.
“Don’t answer absurd accusations.”
Ethan laughed softly.
“You forgot to be confused.”
Vanessa’s eyes flashed.
Hale took a slow breath.
“Rachel was under tremendous stress.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“She expressed concerns.”
“What concerns?”
“That Vanessa was moving foundation money improperly.”
“And?”
“That was outside my expertise.”
“Did she say she felt threatened?”
Hale hesitated.
Vanessa stood.
“I need to lie down.”
“No,” Ethan said.
She looked at him.
“You don’t control me.”
“Not anymore.”
The room went still.
Ethan turned back to Hale.
“Did Rachel say she felt threatened?”
“Yes.”
The word was almost inaudible.
Ethan’s stomach tightened.
“By Vanessa?”
“Yes.”
Vanessa slapped the arm of the sofa.
“That woman poisoned everyone against me!”
Sophie flinched.
Ethan immediately moved closer to her.
Hale stared at Vanessa.
The elderly confusion was gone entirely.
“You should leave,” Vanessa told him.
Hale’s face became pale.
“I think you need an evaluation.”
“You think I need to stop paying you.”
The silence that followed was devastating.
Ethan looked at Hale.
“How much does she pay you?”
“That isn’t—”
“How much?”
Vanessa moved toward the hallway.
Marcus blocked her.
“Ma’am.”
Her expression became murderous.
Ethan had never seen his mother looked at a household employee that way.
“Move.”
“No.”
She turned toward Ethan.
“You’re holding me prisoner?”
“I’m asking you to stay until police arrive.”
For the first time, Vanessa genuinely lost control.
“You called the police?”
“Yes.”
“You stupid, ungrateful little bastard.”
Sophie gasped.
Hale closed his eyes.
Ethan felt oddly calm.
There she was.
No illness.
No confusion.
Just Vanessa.
“You should probably save that performance for the neurologist,” Ethan said.
Vanessa looked around the room.
Then laughed.
A strange, empty laugh.
“You think this is about Sophie?”
Ethan’s expression hardened.
“It is for me.”
“No.”
Vanessa pointed toward Rachel’s letter.
“This is about your dead wife opening doors she had no business opening.”
“What doors?”
“Ask your father.”
“You said you don’t know where he is.”
“I don’t.”
“Then what did Rachel discover?”
Vanessa looked at Hale.
He shook his head almost imperceptibly.
Don’t.
Ethan saw that too.
“What are both of you hiding?”
Before either answered, Ethan’s phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
A man’s voice.
Older.
Rough.
“Ethan Cole?”
“Yes.”
“Do not take that key to Pacific Crest.”
Ethan’s heartbeat changed.
“Who is this?”
The man breathed heavily.
Then said four words that erased the room around Ethan.
“It’s your father, son.”
The call disconnected.
Ethan stared at his phone.
Vanessa closed her eyes.
May you like
She wasn’t surprised.
And that told Ethan the voice had been real.
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