Chapter 8: The Doctor Who Signed the Death Certificate
At 6:15 the next morning, I sat in David's office with a cup of untouched coffee and a folder full of evidence.
I hadn't slept.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the photograph of Caleb in bed. Then I heard Daniel's voice on the recording.
If she shows up, we finish this before she can speak.
David entered carrying two printed pages.
“We've verified that Dr. Helen Morris worked at the hospital where Emily was treated,” he said.
“She left the hospital system several years ago.””
“Do we know where she is?””
“Not yet. Investigators are checking the contact information attached to the records.””
“What about the cemetery?””
“The cemetery has preserved the submitted documents. The medical examiner's office is reviewing the original identification records.””
I leaned forward.
“David, if Emily was never buried there, who did I bury?””
“We don't know yet. We need the original records, and we need to avoid assuming that the paperwork proves more than it does.””
I rubbed my face.
“Four years, David. I watched them lower that coffin into the ground.””
“I know.””
“I held Caleb while he cried.””
David sat across from me.
“Then we owe it to both of you to establish exactly what happened. But we do it carefully.””
He opened the folder.
“The messages from Melissa's phone suggest Daniel intended to gain control of Caleb's trust through a guardianship arrangement. I've notified the investigators about the financial references.””
“What happens now?””
“We protect Caleb, preserve the evidence, and find out whether the people involved are still attempting to contact him.””
My phone buzzed.
A message from Sarah.
*I remembered something. Emily told me the doctor kept a private copy of the original records. If we find Dr. Morris, we may learn who was actually declared dead.*
I showed David.
He read it twice.
“Send this to the investigators. Don't go looking for the doctor yourself.””
I did.
An hour later, an investigator called David back with a development.
Dr. Morris had been located at a residential address outside Macon. She had agreed to speak with authorities but was frightened and reluctant to discuss the case.
I asked whether I could accompany them.
David shook his head before the investigator finished explaining.
“Michael, let the professionals conduct the initial interview. If she has evidence relevant to Emily, we want her to feel safe enough to tell the truth.””
I reluctantly agreed.
At 11:40 a.m., David received another call.
The investigator had spoken with Dr. Morris.
She confirmed that she had signed paperwork connected to Emily's case, but she claimed that several pages had been altered after she submitted them. She had also retained a copy of a document showing that the patient had been transferred before the death certification was completed.
“Transferred where?”” I asked.
David listened for another moment.
Then he covered the phone and looked at me.
“She says the transfer was authorized by someone outside the hospital.””
“Who?””
He returned to the call.
When he hung up, his expression was grim.
“The name on the authorization is Daniel Reeves.””
I stood so quickly my chair scraped the floor.
“He arranged the transfer?””
“That is what the document appears to show. But we need to verify its authenticity and establish what happened after the transfer.””
“Can we speak to Dr. Morris?””
“The investigator says she may be willing to provide a formal statement. Not yet.””
I paced the office.
“What if she disappears?””
“She's being offered protection. We can't force her to trust us instantly.””
My phone rang again.
This time, the number was unfamiliar.
I answered.
“Mr. Carter?”” a woman asked. Her voice was thin and shaky.
“My name is Helen Morris.””
I looked at David.
He gestured for me to put the call on speaker.
“Dr. Morris,” I said, “thank you for calling.””
“I shouldn't be calling you directly. The investigator told me not to discuss the case outside the interview.””
“Then why are you calling?””
“Because I saw your wife's photograph yesterday.””
My heart hammered.
“Where?””
“In a message someone sent me. I recognized her immediately.””
“Was she alive when you saw her?””
“I don't know when the photograph was taken. But I know what I saw in the hospital that night.””
I gripped the desk.
“What happened?””
Dr. Morris took a shaky breath.
“Emily was conscious when she was transferred. She was frightened, but she was alive. I signed a transfer record. I did not sign a death certificate stating that she had died at the hospital.””
My mouth went dry.
“Then who did?””
“Someone submitted a separate certification later. My name appeared on the document, but the signature was not mine.””
David immediately began taking notes.
“Do you have proof?”” he asked.
“Yes. I kept a copy of the transfer authorization and the original patient-status sheet. I was afraid to come forward because Daniel told me that if I spoke, my daughter would lose her medical coverage.””
“Where are the documents now?”” I asked.
“In a safe-deposit box. I haven't touched them in years.””
“Why didn't you report this?””
“I tried. The report disappeared. Then Daniel showed me a photograph of my daughter leaving school. He told me to stop asking questions.””
Silence filled the office.
I closed my eyes.
Another family had been threatened into silence.
Another person had been forced to live with a lie.
“Dr. Morris,” David said gently, “we can arrange for the authorities to retrieve the documents with you. You won't have to face this alone.””
She began to cry.
“I want to tell the truth. I can't keep doing this.””
“We'll help you,” he assured her.
Before ending the call, I asked one last question.
“Did Emily say anything before she was transferred?””
Dr. Morris was quiet for several seconds.
“Yes.””
“What?””
“She asked me to make sure her son knew she hadn't abandoned him.””
My throat tightened.
“Did she mention me?””
“Yes. She said your name. She asked whether you were safe.””
I pressed my palm against my mouth.
Four years ago, I had believed Emily was gone.
Now I knew she had been alive, afraid, and trying to protect us.
And I hadn't been there.
David gave me a few minutes before speaking again.
“We'll establish what happened, Michael. You cannot change the past, but you can help make sure the people responsible answer for it.””
I nodded.
Then my phone buzzed.
A message from Melissa.
*Brooke and Lily told me Daniel came to Aunt Karen's house last night. He said he was taking them somewhere safe. I haven't heard from him since.*
My blood ran cold.
I called her immediately.
“Where are your daughters now?””
“I don't know!”” she sobbed.
“Karen says they were supposed to go to school, but they never arrived. Their phones are off.””
“Did Daniel take them?””
“I think so.””
“Melissa, listen to me. Call the police. Give them everything you know.””
“I already did. Michael, I don't know what to do.””
I closed my eyes.
Daniel had threatened Caleb, tried to manipulate his guardianship, and concealed evidence about Emily.
Now Brooke and Lily were missing.
I couldn't let him use another child as leverage.
“Stay with the police,” I told Melissa.
“Don't go anywhere alone.””
I ended the call and looked at David.
“We need to find those girls.””
He was already reaching for his phone.
Then a new message arrived from an unknown number.
It contained a photograph of Brooke and Lily sitting in the back seat of a car.
May you like
Below it was a single sentence.
*Tell Michael the truth, or the girls pay for what their mother did.*
