Chapter 6: My Wife Had a Marriage Before Me
I read the marriage certificate again.
Vanessa Williams.
Dr. Daniel Harrison.
Married in Fulton County, Georgia.
Seven years before our wedding.
I felt as if the floor had disappeared beneath me.
“Dad, what is this?””
He took the certificate from my hands.
His lips moved silently as he read the names.
“I've never seen this before.””
I unfolded my mother's letter.
The handwriting was unmistakable.
My dear Marcus,
If this letter has reached you, then Vanessa has entered your life, and something has gone terribly wrong.
I stopped reading.
My father pulled a chair closer.
“Keep going, son.””
I continued.
I met Vanessa seven months ago through Dr. Harrison. At first, she claimed she was helping him organize his private medical practice. She knew an unusual amount about our family finances and repeatedly asked about the house.
I later discovered that she and Harrison were married. He told me they had separated, but I found evidence that they were still working together.
My throat tightened.
I confronted Harrison. He told me I was confused. He said my memory was deteriorating and that Robert should consider placing me under medical supervision.
I looked at Dad.
He was crying.
I continued reading.
Marcus, I am afraid they want control of our property. I have changed my will and placed the original documents somewhere they cannot easily find them.
Then came a paragraph that made me grip the desk.
Vanessa asked whether you would inherit the house if your father died before me. She also asked whether you had ever signed a medical authorization allowing someone else to make decisions for you.
I looked up.
“Why would she ask about me?””
Dad had no answer.
The letter continued.
I believe Harrison and Vanessa are planning to use our family to gain access to the property. I don't know how far they are willing to go.
At the bottom, my mother had written:
Do not trust the doctor. And whatever happens, do not let Vanessa become the person responsible for your father's care.
I lowered the letter.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then Dad whispered, “She knew.””
I nodded.
“She knew they were dangerous.””
He sat down and buried his face in his hands.
“I should have listened. I should have investigated when she started getting sick.””
I placed a hand on his shoulder.
“You didn't know.””
“I signed the papers, Marcus.””
“You trusted a doctor.””
“I trusted the wrong man.””
His voice cracked.
“I might have helped them.””
I didn't know what to say.
My phone rang.
It was Patricia Miller, the woman listed in my mother's notebook.
I answered immediately.
“Hello?””
A woman's cautious voice responded.
“Is this Marcus Williams?””
“Yes. Who is this?””
“My name is Patricia Miller. I was a medical records administrator at Peachtree Memorial Hospital. Your mother asked me to contact you if anything unusual happened.””
I looked at Dad.
“Did you know my mother?””
“Yes. I worked with her medical file. And I've been waiting six years for someone in your family to ask the right questions.””
My heart started racing.
“What questions?””
“Did you find the letter?””
“Yes.””
“And the photograph?””
“Yes.””
She exhaled.
“Then you need to come see me.””
“Why?””
“Because the documents your mother left behind aren't the only records that exist.””
I gripped the phone.
“What else is there?””
“An original medication log, a second consent form, and an internal incident report that was removed from her hospital file.””
I glanced at my father's face.
“Can you send copies?””
“No. I won't send them electronically. Harrison still has connections at the hospital, and I don't know who he can access.””
“Where can we meet?””
She gave me an address in Decatur.
“Tomorrow at ten. Come alone if possible.””
“Why alone?””
Her voice dropped.
“Because I don't know whether your wife is still working with him.””
The call ended.
I immediately wrote down the address.
Dad stood.
“I'm going with you.””
I shook my head.
“Patricia asked me to come alone.””
“Marcus, I'm not letting you walk into something dangerous without knowing what's there.””
“We'll take precautions. I'll have someone know where I'm going.””
He nodded reluctantly.
Then his expression changed.
“There's another thing.””
“What?””
He walked back to the desk and examined the certificate.
“Look at the date.””
I checked it.
The marriage had taken place seven years before my wedding.
But the divorce section was blank.
“There was never a divorce,” I said.
Dad nodded slowly.
“Then how did she marry you?””
I stared at the certificate.
The answer was obvious, but I didn't want to say it.
My marriage might not have been legally valid.
I picked up my phone and searched for the county clerk's contact information.
Before I could make the call, a notification appeared.
An email from an unknown sender.
The subject line read:
*YOUR MARRIAGE IS NOT THE ONLY THING VANESSA FORGED.*
I opened it.
There was one attachment.
A scanned copy of a medical authorization form bearing my name.
The signature looked exactly like mine.
But I had never signed it.
At the bottom was a date from eight months earlier.
And beside the signature was a witness name.
Robert Williams.
My father leaned closer.
His face turned gray.
“Marcus,” he whispered.
“What?””
“I never witnessed that document.””
Then my phone rang again.
This time, it was the county clerk's office.
A woman introduced herself and asked whether I was Marcus Williams.
“Yes.””
“Sir, we're contacting you because a petition has been submitted requesting emergency guardianship over your father. Your name is listed as the proposed guardian.””
My stomach dropped.
“Who submitted it?””
There was a pause.
Then she answered.
“Your wife, Vanessa Williams.””
I closed my eyes.
“Is the petition approved?””
“Not yet. However, there's a supporting medical statement from Dr. Daniel Harrison.””
My father grabbed the edge of the desk.
The clerk continued.
“There's also a signed affidavit from you, Mr. Williams, stating that your father has become a danger to himself and others.””
I looked at the forged signature on my phone.
Then I heard the final sentence.
“The court has scheduled an emergency hearing for tomorrow morning at nine.””
Tomorrow.
One hour before my meeting with Patricia.
And according to the petition, my father was supposed to be evaluated and removed from his home before the hearing ended.
I looked at Dad.
He was staring at the letter my mother had left behind.
Then he said something that changed everything.
“Marcus, I think I know where your mother hid the original will.””
He walked toward the bedroom closet and reached behind an old suitcase.
When he returned, he was holding a small wooden box.
Inside was a flash drive, a sealed legal envelope, and a photograph of my mother standing beside a man I had never seen before.
May you like
On the back, in my mother's handwriting, were seven words:
*THE MAN IN THIS PHOTO KNOWS EVERYTHING.*
