Chapter 4 - The First Dead Patient

Marcus was arrested before midnight.

Not for Dad’s death.

Not yet.

The police had enough to hold him for assaulting Daniel and for possession of controlled medication that had not been prescribed to him.

Mom was taken separately for questioning.

She kept insisting she was a victim.

I stayed with Daniel.

He refused to return to the house.

We spent the night at a small hotel near the hospital.

Daniel arranged the pillows exactly three inches apart.

He checked the door lock four times.

Then he placed his tablet under his pillow.

He didn’t sleep.

Neither did I.

At 4:12 in the morning, he whispered my name.

“Emily?”

“I’m here.”

“Dad knew.”

I turned toward him.

“Knew what?”

“That I was recording.”

Daniel stared at the ceiling.

“He told me sometimes people change stories.”

My chest tightened.

“He said machines remember.”

The next morning, Detective Harper met us in a private hospital conference room.

She had new information.

Marcus had worked as a registered nurse in three states over twelve years.

In Ohio, an elderly widow under his care died after a sudden cardiac event.

Her family later discovered she had changed her will six weeks before her death.

Marcus received eighty thousand dollars.

No charges were filed because the woman had no children and the death appeared natural.

Four years later, Marcus worked at a rehabilitation facility in Pennsylvania.

A wealthy stroke patient died unexpectedly.

The toxicology report showed unusually high concentrations of a sedative.

The case was investigated.

Then the laboratory sample was lost.

Marcus resigned one month later.

Dad became the third suspicious death.

The pattern was no longer invisible.

“What about my mother?”

Harper leaned back.

“That’s what we’re trying to establish.”

Daniel covered his ears.

The fluorescent lights hummed overhead.

I turned them off.

Harper waited until he relaxed.

Then she continued.

“We recovered security footage from your father’s hospital floor.”

My pulse accelerated.

“The hospital archives recordings for several years in cases involving internal investigations.”

She opened a laptop.

The image was grainy.

A hallway.

A timestamp.

The night Dad died.

At 1:46 a.m., Marcus entered Dad’s room wearing scrubs.

He stayed inside for nineteen minutes.

At 2:08 a.m., Mom entered.

She remained for seven minutes.

At 2:21 a.m., a nurse rushed into the room.

Other staff followed.

Dad was declared dead at 2:37.

I stared at the screen.

Mom had always told us she arrived after the hospital called.

She lied.

“She was there.”

Harper nodded.

“She was.”

Daniel rocked slightly in his chair.

Then he said something almost too quietly to hear.

“She came home with his watch.”

I turned.

“What?”

“Dad’s watch.”

Daniel touched his wrist.

“She washed it.”

My memory flashed.

Dad’s silver watch had disappeared after his death.

Mom said the hospital lost it.

Daniel had seen her bring it home.

Harper asked where it might be.

Daniel typed something into his tablet.

The electronic voice answered.

“Garden.”

“Why the garden?”

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Daniel looked at me.

“Because she buried things there.”