Chapter 4 - The Doctor Who Signed Too FastBy midnight, Sarah Whitmore was breathing on her own.
She lay in a private hospital room under police guard, an IV in her arm, monitors glowing beside her bed. Her skin still looked too pale, her lips too dry, but the dirt had been cleaned from her hair and the torn burial dress had been taken as evidence.
Emma slept in a chair beside the bed, wrapped in a hospital blanket, one hand resting on Sarah’s mattress.
She had refused to leave.
Detective Hale stood near the window with Dr. Collins.
“What was she given?” he asked.
“We’re waiting on full toxicology,” Dr. Collins said. “But the preliminary screen shows a combination of sedatives and a neuromuscular agent. It could slow voluntary movement and make breathing extremely shallow.”
“Enough to fool a doctor?”
“A careless doctor, maybe. A corrupt one, absolutely.”
Hale looked through the glass at Sarah.
“Her death certificate was signed by Dr. Paul Reeve.”
Dr. Collins stiffened.
“You know him?” Hale asked.
“Everyone in this city knows Dr. Reeve. He treats half the wealthy families downtown. Expensive, discreet, never asks questions that cost him clients.”
“That sounds like a review.”
“It’s a warning.”
Hale’s phone buzzed. A message from his partner.
REEVE LEFT HOME 20 MIN AGO. HEADING TOWARD PRIVATE AIRFIELD.
Hale moved instantly.
“Stay with Sarah.”
He found his partner, Detective Lina Brooks, already in the parking lot.
“Tell me we have a warrant,” Brooks said.
“We have a woman who climbed out of her coffin.”
“Good enough for me.”
They drove fast through the rain-slick streets toward a private airfield on the edge of the city. Hale watched the dark road ahead, thinking of Emma’s voice on the 911 call.
My mommy is in the box.
At the airfield, a small jet waited with its stairs down.
Dr. Paul Reeve was halfway across the tarmac carrying one leather bag.
When he saw the detectives, he ran.
He was not good at it.
Brooks caught him before he reached the stairs and slammed him against the side of a black car.
“Dr. Reeve,” she said, breathing hard, “leaving town after a patient comes back from the dead looks terrible.”
Reeve’s face was slick with sweat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Hale took the leather bag from his hand and opened it.
Cash.
A passport.
Two burner phones.
And a prescription pad.
Hale looked at him. “Try again.”
Reeve’s mouth trembled. “I was told she was gone.”
“By whom?”
“I examined her.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Reeve looked toward the jet like escape might still be possible.
Brooks stepped closer. “A little girl watched her mother crawl out of a casket today. Do not make us ask twice.”
Reeve’s face crumpled.
“Victor called me,” he whispered. “He said Sarah had taken something. He said she was depressed, that she had collapsed, that he didn’t want scandal.”
“So you signed a death certificate?”
“I checked her pulse. It was faint. Too faint. I thought—”
“You thought a rich man’s check was easier than calling an ambulance,” Hale said.
Reeve flinched.
“Who gave her the drugs?” Brooks asked.
“I don’t know.”
Hale stepped in. “Doctor.”
Reeve started crying.
“I gave Victor the medication,” he said. “But I didn’t know what he planned to do with it.”
“What medication?”
“Vecuronix. It’s not something I should have had outside a surgical facility.”
Brooks swore under her breath.
Hale’s voice dropped. “Why would Victor need that?”
Reeve wiped his face. “He said Sarah was becoming unstable. That she was threatening to ruin him. He said she needed to be quiet until after the trust transfer.”
“What trust transfer?”
Reeve looked genuinely confused.
“I don’t know. Something involving Emma.”
At the hospital, Sarah woke suddenly from a nightmare.
Her eyes flew open.
“Emma,” she gasped.
Emma jolted awake. “Mommy?”
Sarah grabbed her daughter’s hand.
“Where is the blue box?” Sarah whispered.
Emma frowned. “What blue box?”
May you like
Sarah’s eyes filled with terror.
“The one under your bed,” she said. “The one Daddy must never find.”
Related Stories
