Chapter 3 - THE DOCTOR WHO EXPECTED A CONFUSED MANDr. Marcus Weller did not answer immediately.
That was the first thing Everett disliked about him.
The second was the way the doctor looked toward Lorraine before speaking.
Only a fraction of a second.
Enough.
“I was contacted regarding concerns about possible cognitive decline.”
“By whom?”
Weller adjusted his bag.
“Mr. Holloway, medical privacy—”
“My medical privacy?”
Everett laughed.
“You were invited into my house to evaluate me without my knowledge.”
Weller looked uncomfortable.
“I was told you had agreed.”
Everett turned toward the family.
“Which one of you told him that?”
Silence.
Weller continued.
“I received an intake form indicating recent memory lapses, confusion, inappropriate financial decisions, irritability, and possible medication noncompliance.”
Everett’s anger sharpened.
“Show me.”
The doctor hesitated.
Everett held out his hand.
“Show me.”
Weller removed several pages.
Everett read.
Examples were listed.
Everett allegedly forgot a dinner appointment.
He repeated a question during breakfast.
He misplaced his study keys.
He signed a check twice.
He became “aggressive” when questioned about finances.
Each event sounded plausible.
That was what made them dangerous.
Tiny mistakes accumulated into a diagnosis before anyone had examined him.
Everett looked at the signature at the bottom of the intake form.
Family informant: Lorraine Holloway.
The room changed.
Preston looked at his mother.
Celia’s mouth opened.
Lorraine stared at the page.
“That is not my signature.”
Everett turned the paper toward Weller.
“You received this electronically?”
“Yes.”
“From?”
Weller checked his tablet.
An email address.
Lorraine shook her head.
“That isn’t mine.”
Everett knew her actual email.
It was close.
One additional word.
Family.
A fake address created to resemble hers.
Weller looked genuinely alarmed.
“I should have verified.”
“Yes.”
“You’re right.”
Everett respected him slightly more for admitting it.
“Who paid you?”
“A prepaid consultation through a private-client coordinator.”
“Name?”
“Daniel Roth.”
Mason, Kline & Roth.
The law firm from the petition.
Lorraine sat down slowly.
“I haven’t spoken to Daniel Roth in eight years.”
Everett watched her.
Was that true?
He no longer knew.
Weller closed his bag.
“I’m not conducting this examination.”
“You certainly are not.”
“I will provide all communications to your attorney if you authorize it.”
“I do.”
Everett looked toward Preston.
“Call Daniel Roth.”
Preston hesitated.
“Why me?”
“Because you’re standing closest to the phone.”
Preston dialed the law firm.
After three transfers, Daniel Roth answered.
Everett took the call.
“This is Everett Holloway.”
A pause.
“Mr. Holloway.”
“You prepared an incapacity petition involving me.”
Silence.
“That matter is confidential.”
“Then I assume you have a client.”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“I can’t disclose privileged—”
Everett interrupted.
“You are drafting documents aimed at taking control of my property. Your client’s privilege will become very interesting once my lawyers start asking whether fraud was involved.”
Roth became quieter.
“I think you should retain independent counsel.”
“I already have one.”
Everett smiled coldly.
“Daniel Cross will call you in ten minutes.”
Daniel Cross had represented Everett personally for thirty-one years.
Roth knew the name.
That changed his tone.
“I may be able to confirm limited information.”
“Do it.”
“The initial inquiry did not come directly from Mrs. Holloway.”
Everett looked toward Lorraine.
Her shoulders lowered slightly.
“Then who?”
“Someone represented that they were acting with family authority.”
“Who?”
Roth paused.
“Preston Holloway.”
Celia turned toward her husband.
Lorraine whispered:
“Preston?”
Everett slowly lowered the phone.
His son went pale.
“That’s not what happened.”
Roth’s voice continued through the speaker.
“Mr. Holloway requested preliminary guidance regarding successor control if a parent became incapacitated.”
Preston stepped forward.
“Yes, I asked a question.”
Everett’s voice went cold.
“A question?”
“I was worried.”
“You paid them to draft a petition.”
“I didn’t.”
Roth said:
“Our firm received payment from Holloway Advisory Holdings.”
Everett frowned.
He had never heard that name.
Preston had.
Everyone saw it.
Everett asked:
“What is Holloway Advisory Holdings?”
Preston said nothing.
Celia closed her eyes.
Lorraine stared at her son.
“Preston.”
He looked trapped.
Everett waited.
Finally Preston whispered:
“It’s mine.”
Everett’s hand tightened around his cane.
“How much of this did you arrange?”
“Not the doctor.”
“Then the petition?”
“I asked what would happen if something happened to you.”
“That is not the same question.”
Everett stepped closer.
“You asked what would happen if I could no longer control the trust.”
Preston looked down.
Everett’s anger rose.
Then Onyx spoke from across the room.
“Not enough.”
Everyone turned.
The bird clicked his beak.
“Need both doctors.”
Dr. Weller’s face changed.
Everett stared at the parrot.
Then at his family.
The trust required two physicians.
Somebody knew that.
Somebody had discussed it near Onyx.
May you like
And if Weller was one—
there was another doctor somewhere.
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