I sat there for a long moment, unable to speak.
“I need everything you have,” I finally said. “Every page.”
“Take it,” Raymond said. “But Marcus, listen to me.”
“You need the police involved now. Not just me.”
“If I’m right, you’re living with someone dangerous.”
I didn’t go to the police that day.
I wanted one more piece first.
I wanted to hear it from Whitfield himself.
I drove to his clinic the next morning.
He wasn’t expecting me.
“Marcus,” he said, standing up too fast. “This is a surprise.”
“Sit down, Richard,” I said.
He sat.
I put the aut**sy file on his desk.
His face went the same shade of white Vanessa’s had.
“I don’t know what that is,” he said.
“You signed it,” I said. “You know exactly what it is.”
“I need answers. Today.”
Whitfield’s hands trembled.
“I didn’t hurt anyone,” he said quickly.
“I never touched her medication.”
“Then who did.”
He was quiet.
“Richard,” I said. “My daughters lost their mother.”
“If you know something, you tell me right now.”
He put his face in his hands.
“Vanessa asked me for a prescription refill,” he finally said. “For herself.”
“She said she needed extra, in case she lost a bottle.”
“I didn’t think anything of it at the time.”
“When did she ask for this,” I said.
“Two weeks before Eleanor fell.”
My whole body went cold.
“That’s not a confession that she used it on Eleanor,” Whitfield said quickly.
“But I should have said something. I should have asked more questions.”
“I was afraid of losing my license. I was afraid of her.”
“Afraid of her how,” I asked.
“She knew things about my past,” Whitfield said. “Things I didn’t want out.”
“An old case, years back, before I moved to this town.”
“She used that to keep me quiet after the funeral.”
“She told me if I ever said anything, she’d ruin me.”
“There’s more, isn’t there,” I said.
Whitfield nodded slowly.
“She asked me something else, a few months ago,” he said.
“What.”
“About a new patient,” he said. “About you.”
