Chapter 8 - The Doctor Who Had Never Met MeThe false medical statement became our next priority.
Vivian contacted the clinic listed on the document through formal legal channels. The clinic confirmed that it had no appointment record under my name for the date shown.
That alone did not establish who had created the document, but it provided a serious discrepancy.
The doctor named on the statement was a psychiatrist who practiced in the neighboring county.
Two days later, he responded to the inquiry.
He had never examined me.
He had never authorized the document.
And although the form carried a mark resembling his office stamp, he had not issued it.
When Vivian told me, I sat very still.
“So someone forged a doctor's statement?”
“That's what the information currently indicates,” she replied. “The doctor is preserving his records and has agreed to cooperate with the appropriate investigators.”
I looked at the copy again.
The statement had described me as an increasingly erratic woman whose financial decisions were influenced by emotional instability.
It recommended that a qualified professional assess my ability to manage my own affairs.
At first glance, it looked official.
That was what made it dangerous.
Mark had not written an angry message or shouted an insult that could easily be dismissed. Someone had assembled a package that could appear convincing to an institution unfamiliar with my life.
If a lender or court had relied on it without proper verification, I could have spent months fighting to reclaim control over decisions I had made responsibly for years.
Vivian closed the file.
“We've asked the relevant parties to preserve everything connected to this paperwork. We are also reviewing whether any formal proceeding has been initiated.”
“Can we prove Mark made it?”
“Not yet. The documents connect the scheme to people in his circle, but we need evidence showing who created them and who attempted to use them.”
I nodded.
I wanted certainty. I wanted to point at Mark and tell the world exactly what he had done.
But I had learned enough from my work to know that suspicion was not proof.
We needed records, testimony, and an investigation strong enough to withstand challenge.
That afternoon, Rose asked to speak with me alone.
She was sitting beside the window with a blanket over her knees.
“Claire, there's something I haven't told you.”
I sat down.
“Tell me.”
“When Mark pushed me, I wasn't only afraid of being hurt. I was afraid he would take the phone.”
I looked at the little mobile device resting in an evidence pouch on the table.
“Because of the recording?”
“Yes. But the phone wasn't the only thing I had.”
She reached toward the bedside drawer and removed a small envelope.
Inside was a folded sheet of paper.
It contained a handwritten list of dates, names, and numbers.
At the bottom, Rose had written the words Northbridge Capital.
I studied the page.
“What is this?”
“I copied the information from the folder I found in the study. I didn't understand all of it, but I thought you might.”
The list contained three dates corresponding to transfers from my investment account. Beside each date was a number matching an invoice reference in the documents Vivian had shown me.
Rose had also written down the name of the person who had visited the house twice while I was away.
“Who is Daniel Mercer?” I asked.
“He came with Victor Sloane. They spoke to Mark in the study. Eleanor told me to take the children upstairs, but Noah was sleeping and Lily wouldn't settle, so I waited in the hallway.”
“What did you hear?”
“They asked when the transfer would be completed. Mark said he needed a few more days to get the documents approved.”
My blood ran cold.
“Did they mention me?”
Rose nodded.
“Victor asked whether you knew about the financing. Mark said you knew nothing and wouldn't find out until it was too late.”
I turned the page over.
On the back was a handwritten amount.
$2,400,000.
The amount connected to the loan inquiry.
I called Vivian and read the details to her.
She was silent for a moment.
“Claire, this is important. We need to preserve the original page and establish when your mother wrote it. We should also verify the identities of those individuals and see whether the dates match the lender's records.”
“Can we find Daniel Mercer?”
“My investigator is checking.”
An hour later, she called back.
Daniel Mercer was a consultant who had worked with Victor Sloane on several property deals. He was also listed as a former adviser to a company Mark had helped establish.
The connections were becoming harder to dismiss.
Then Vivian received another message.
She read it, frowned, and looked at me.
“Daniel has agreed to an interview with the investigator.”
“Why?”
“He says he wants to cooperate.”
“Does he know about Rose's injuries?”
“We haven't discussed that with him.”
“What does he know about the documents?”
Vivian's expression tightened.
“He claims Mark asked him to prepare a financial package using your information. He says he believed you had authorized it.”
I stared at her.
“That doesn't explain the fake medical statement.”
“No. It doesn't.”
“Can we trust him?”
“We don't need to trust him. We need to verify what he says.”
Vivian gathered the papers.
Then her phone rang.
She listened, asked two questions, and ended the call.
“What happened?” I asked.
“The investigator has found something else. Daniel claims Mark told him that the entire arrangement was intended to protect you from making a reckless financial decision.”
I felt a cold, steady anger settle inside me.
Protect me.
That was the word they had used with my mother, too.
They had dressed control in the language of care and expected everyone to mistake it for love.
But the most disturbing part came next.
Vivian checked her notes.
“Daniel also says Eleanor was not merely a witness. She attended a meeting where the proposed financial arrangement was discussed.”
I thought of Eleanor stretched across the sofa, ordering my sick mother to prepare dinner.
May you like
The woman who had called me unstable had participated in a plan to take control of my finances.
And she had expected me to continue paying her medical bills.
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