Chapter 8: The Doctor Who Was Supposed to Be Dead
Daniel drove me straight to his office.
He insisted that we shouldn't return to the house until the police had been contacted.
I agreed.
For the first time in nine years, I was grateful that someone had taken my safety seriously.
But I wasn't ready to trust Daniel completely.
He had known too much.
He had been involved in the fertility arrangements.
And his father's name was connected to my birth records.
When we arrived at his office, he locked the door behind us.
Then he placed his phone on the desk.
"Rachel sent me the same information," he said.
I looked at him.
"Why?""
"Because the insurance company contacted the business after discovering that some of the documents had been submitted using a company email address.""
I sat down.
"Tell me about Samuel Whitmore.""
Daniel opened a drawer and removed an old photograph.
It showed three men standing outside a medical building.
One was my father, Thomas.
Another was a younger Robert Cross.
The third was an older man wearing glasses.
"That's Dr. Whitmore," Daniel said.
I studied the photograph.
He looked ordinary.
A kind face. Gray hair. A small smile.
"Why would he be connected to my insurance application?""
Daniel shook his head.
"I don't know.""
I looked at the photograph again.
"Did you know he died?""
"Yes. According to the public records, he died last year.""
"Then how could he authorize a medical assessment six weeks ago?""
Daniel didn't answer.
Instead, he opened his laptop.
He searched through a collection of old business documents.
After several minutes, he found something.
A company registration.
*Whitmore Medical Consulting LLC.*
The company had been dissolved eight months earlier.
But its registered mailing address was familiar.
I leaned closer.
It was the address of a medical records storage facility on the other side of town.
"Why would a dissolved company have my records?""
Daniel enlarged the document.
"Because someone transferred the archive there before the company closed.""
I stood.
"Take me there.""
Daniel shook his head.
"Not without the police.""
I looked at him.
"Then call them.""
He made the call.
While we waited, I contacted Rachel Morgan again.
She explained that the insurance company had temporarily suspended both applications pending investigation.
She also confirmed that neither policy could be treated as valid proof of a medical condition.
That gave me a little relief.
But not enough.
Because someone had deliberately created a medical history that wasn't mine.
And Marcus had known about it.
Two hours later, Detective Laura Mitchell arrived at Daniel's office.
She was in her early forties, with short brown hair and a calm, direct manner.
After hearing our account, she placed a notebook on the desk.
"Mrs. Bennett, I need you to understand that we're dealing with several separate issues. The alleged forged signatures, the insurance applications, and the possible misuse of medical records.""
I nodded.
"Can you investigate all of them?""
"We can begin documenting the evidence. The insurance company is also conducting its own investigation.""
She turned toward Daniel.
"Mr. Cross, your cooperation is important. Particularly regarding the donor arrangement.""
Daniel nodded.
"I understand.""
Detective Mitchell looked at me again.
"Have you received any direct threats from your husband?""
I hesitated.
Then I remembered Vanessa's message.
"Not directly. But he has been asking questions about suspicious deaths.""
The detective's expression tightened.
"Who told you?""
"Vanessa Reed.""
"Do you have the message?""
I handed over my phone.
She photographed the screen.
Then she looked at Daniel.
"Do you know where Marcus is?""
"No.""
"Has he contacted you?""
Daniel shook his head.
Detective Mitchell closed her notebook.
"We'll arrange for you to stay somewhere secure while we examine the documents.""
I nodded.
But before she could stand, my phone rang.
Vanessa.
I answered.
"Nia?""
Her breathing was uneven.
"Where are you?""
"With Daniel and the police.""
"Oh, thank God.""
"What's happened?""
"I found something else in Marcus's apartment.""
Detective Mitchell immediately gestured for me to put the call on speaker.
Vanessa continued.
"I went back to collect my things. I thought Marcus had left town, but his laptop was still there.""
"Did you open it?""
"Yes. There was a folder with your name.""
My stomach tightened.
"What was inside?""
"Medical records. Insurance applications. And an old video.""
"What video?""
She hesitated.
"Your father.""
I stopped breathing.
"My father?""
"Thomas Bennett. He's sitting in a hospital room, talking to someone.""
Daniel stood abruptly.
"Can you send it?""
"I'm trying.""
A moment later, a video arrived.
I pressed play.
The image was grainy.
My father sat in a hospital bed wearing a pale blue shirt.
His face was thinner than I remembered.
He looked tired.
But unmistakably, it was him.
A man stood beside the bed, holding a folder.
Dr. Samuel Whitmore.
My father's voice came through the phone.
"Thomas, are you certain you want this kept confidential?""
My father nodded.
"I've raised Nia as my daughter. Nothing will ever change that.""
Dr. Whitmore turned a page.
"And the biological record?""
"Keep it sealed. She doesn't need to carry someone else's mistakes.""
The doctor hesitated.
"Robert's family has asked whether the child might be eligible for the trust.""
My father looked directly into the camera.
"If they want to give her something, they can do it without making her feel like a transaction.""
I covered my mouth.
Then the recording continued.
Dr. Whitmore lowered his voice.
"There's another issue. The original sample has been requested.""
My father frowned.
"By whom?""
"Someone representing Robert's estate.""
"Who?""
The doctor glanced at his folder.
"Marcus Bennett.""
I felt the air leave my lungs.
The video ended.
Nobody spoke.
Finally, Detective Mitchell asked Vanessa to explain where she had found it.
"On Marcus's laptop," she said.
"It was inside a folder labeled OLD RESEARCH.""
Detective Mitchell looked at Daniel.
"Did you know Marcus had this recording?""
Daniel shook his head.
"No.""
I replayed the last few seconds.
Marcus's name.
The original sample.
My father's hospital room.
I suddenly remembered something.
My father had died in October.
Marcus and I had married in March.
That meant Marcus had been involved in the search for my biological history before my father passed away.
I turned toward Daniel.
"How much did Marcus know about Robert's estate?""
Daniel answered quietly.
"Almost everything.""
"And how much did he know about my father?""
Daniel looked uncomfortable.
"More than he ever told you.""
Detective Mitchell took the phone.
"Mrs. Bennett, I want this video preserved as evidence.""
I nodded.
Then another message arrived from Vanessa.
*There's one more file. It's a recording of Marcus speaking with someone named Whitmore.*
I opened the attachment.
A man's voice spoke first.
"Have you secured the original specimen?""
Marcus answered.
"Not yet. Thomas made sure the records were sealed.""
The other man laughed.
"Then find another way. We only need a verified biological connection.""
Marcus lowered his voice.
"And if Nia refuses?""
The man answered without hesitation.
"She won't have to know.""
The recording ended.
I looked at Detective Mitchell.
"That man is supposed to be dead.""
She listened again.
Then she looked at me.
"Mrs. Bennett, we need to find out who actually recorded this conversation.""
Daniel was staring at the screen.
His face had become pale.
I turned toward him.
"What?""
He pointed to the date attached to the audio file.
It was only three weeks old.
And the location metadata identified a private medical facility.
Daniel whispered:
"That's where my father was treated before he died.""
I looked at him.
"Your father?""
He nodded slowly.
"Robert Cross.""
Then he looked at the detective.
"My father may not have been the only person whose medical records were altered.""
That evening, Detective Mitchell received confirmation from the storage facility.
The archive had been accessed twice in the previous month.
Both visits had been authorized using a temporary employee identification card.
The name on the access log was:
*MARCUS BENNETT.*
But there was something else.
The facility had also recorded a second visitor.
A woman.
She had signed the visitor register using a name that made Daniel go completely silent.
May you like
*EVELYN BENNETT.*
My mother.
