Chapter 5 - The Doctor Who Changed His Story
Dr. Samuel Whitaker disappeared at 4:26 that afternoon.
His office was locked.
His car remained in the underground garage.
His receptionist claimed he had canceled every appointment after receiving an urgent family call.
But Whitaker had no immediate family in Boston.
His wife had died five years earlier.
His only son lived in California.
And according to Sullivan, the last person to call his office was Eleanor Bennett.
I learned this while sitting in Daniel's conference room, staring at a paper cup of coffee I couldn't bring myself to drink.
"Richard is going to say I orchestrated all of this," I said.
Daniel looked up from his notes.
"He can say whatever he wants."
"He'll make people believe him."
"Not everyone."
I laughed bitterly.
"You haven't lived with him."
Daniel set down his pen.
"No. But I've spent six weeks examining the documents your husband submitted."
"And?"
"Somebody made mistakes."
He opened a folder.
Inside were copies of the emails supposedly written by me.
Daniel pointed to a message dated August 28.
"According to this, you sent Richard a threatening email from your personal account at 11:43 p.m."
"I didn't."
"I believe you."
He turned the page.
"Your account's original provider records show no such outgoing message. The copy produced by Richard's team also contains formatting inconsistent with the provider's standard export."
My pulse quickened.
"Can you prove it?"
"We have enough to challenge its authenticity. We're seeking the underlying records."
He showed me another page.
"And this psychiatric evaluation is worse."
"How?"
"The clinic listed on the letterhead changed ownership three years ago. Its old records system was retired."
I stared at him.
"Whitaker used an old template?"
"That's one possibility."
For the first time that day, I felt something other than fear.
Hope.
Then Daniel's phone rang.
He answered.
His expression hardened.
"Where?"
A pause.
"Is she safe?"
He looked at me.
"Understood."
He ended the call.
"Claire, Detective Sullivan wants us at the district attorney's office."
"Why?"
"They found Whitaker."
"Is he alive?"
Daniel hesitated.
"Yes."
Relief rushed through me.
Then he continued.
"But he was found in his office's private examination room with an apparent overdose of a sedative. He's being treated at the hospital."
I stood.
"Did he try to kill himself?"
"They don't know."
Daniel picked up his coat.
"There's something else."
"What?"
"Before losing consciousness, Whitaker called emergency services."
My heart began pounding.
"What did he say?"
May you like
Daniel looked at me.
"He said Eleanor Bennett was trying to kill him."
