Chapter 14 - THE LAST PERSON TO SEE MY FATHER
My father did not keep a visitor log.
At least, I had never seen one.
That was what I told Ruiz as we left the courthouse through an underground exit.
He asked the question again.
“Any security system?”
“An old alarm.”
“Doorbell camera?”
“No.”
“Neighborhood gate?”
“No.”
“Home health service?”
“No.”
“Building sign-in?”
“It was a house.”
He nodded.
“Then the message may refer to something else.”
Leah looked at me.
“Where was your father the day before he died?”
I knew the answer immediately.
“St. Catherine’s Medical Center.”
Ruiz stopped walking.
“Why?”
“Routine cardiology appointment.”
“Hospital visitor log.”
My stomach tightened.
St. Catherine’s had been one of the hospital systems Connor later claimed Apex was negotiating with.
I had assumed it was coincidence.
Nothing felt coincidental anymore.
Within an hour, Ruiz had requested archived access records.
Hospitals keep more logs than people realize.
Parking entries.
Visitor badges.
Electronic door swipes.
Appointment check-ins.
Four years was a long time.
It was not necessarily too long.
While investigators worked, Leah took me to her office.
I finally changed into clothes that belonged to me instead of borrowed emergency clothes.
The simplicity nearly made me cry.
My own jeans.
My own sweater.
A life that still fit even if everything else had changed.
At 3:40 p.m., Ruiz called.
“Come downstairs.”
He was waiting in Leah’s conference room with a hospital security manager on video call.
The manager introduced himself as Thomas Reed.
He looked apologetic before he said anything.
“We retained visitor-badge data for seven years under a litigation hold unrelated to your father.”
My hands went cold.
“Did someone visit him?”
“At the hospital, yes.”
“Who?”
Thomas shared his screen.
Arthur Hayes had checked in for cardiology at 9:08 a.m.
At 9:41, a visitor badge was issued to Samuel Pierce.
I closed my eyes.
Samuel again.
“How long was he there?” Ruiz asked.
“Badge exit logged at 10:36.”
“Anyone else?”
Thomas scrolled.
At 10:02, another badge was issued.
Visitor name: Brenda Carter.
I felt my stomach drop.
“She was there.”
“Yes,” Thomas said.
“Exit time?”
“10:31.”
Samuel and Brenda overlapped for twenty-nine minutes.
The day before my father died.
“Where did they go?” Ruiz asked.
Thomas pulled an old access map.
“Arthur’s appointment was in cardiology on level four.”
“Both visitor badges accessed the private consult corridor at 10:08.”
“That corridor requires staff escort,” Ruiz said.
“Correct.”
“Who badged them in?”
Thomas hesitated.
“Dr. Jonathan Wallace.”
The room went silent.
My family physician.
The doctor whose chart had later been altered by an assistant who went to work for Apex.
My throat tightened.
“Dr. Wallace knew my father?”
“I cannot answer that,” Thomas said.
Ruiz already had his phone out.
“Thank you.”
He ended the call.
I called Dr. Wallace before anyone could stop me.
He answered on the second ring.
“Jessica.”
“Did you know my father?”
Silence.
That was enough.
“Did you know Arthur Hayes?”
“Yes.”
Leah closed her eyes.
Ruiz gestured for speaker.
I turned it on.
“How?”
“Jessica, this is not a conversation for the phone.”
“You saw him the day before he died.”
Another silence.
“Who told you?”
“Hospital records.”
Dr. Wallace exhaled.
“I was a medical advisor to Northstar.”
My head snapped up.
“You were what?”
“Part-time.”
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“Your father asked me not to.”
“When?”
“Years ago.”
“Why?”
“Because he was trying to keep you away from the dispute.”
The same decision again.
My father had protected me by making me ignorant.
I understood why.
I was beginning to hate the cost.
“What happened at St. Catherine’s?”
Dr. Wallace did not answer.
“Brenda and Samuel were there.”
“I know.”
“You let them into a private corridor.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Arthur requested the meeting.”
My anger faltered.
“He asked them to come?”
“Yes.”
“What did he want?”
“To settle Northstar permanently.”
“How?”
“He had learned someone was trying to revive the technology.”
“Apex?”
“The name Apex had not been disclosed to him.”
“Connor?”
“No.”
“Brenda?”
“Arthur believed Brenda was behind it.”
“What happened in the meeting?”
Dr. Wallace’s voice lowered.
“I left after I brought them in.”
“How long were they alone?”
“Twenty minutes.”
“Did Dad seem upset afterward?”
“Yes.”
“Did he say why?”
“He said Brenda had found a way to reach you without contacting you.”
My skin prickled.
“What did that mean?”
“I do not know.”
“You were my doctor later.”
“Yes.”
“Did Brenda tell you to treat me?”
“No.”
“Did Connor?”
“No.”
“Then how did Melissa Grant get into my chart?”
“I hired Melissa eight months before you saw me.”
“Who referred her?”
Dr. Wallace went quiet.
I knew before he answered.
“Samuel Pierce.”
I looked at Ruiz.
He was expressionless.
“Did you know she later went to Apex?”
“No.”
“Did you alter my chart?”
“No.”
“Did you prescribe something stronger than the sleep medication you told me about?”
“No.”
That mattered.
It meant Brenda may have added something else to the water Connor brought me.
The thought made my stomach turn.
“Did you see my father after the meeting?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“The next morning.”
I froze.
“The day he died?”
“Yes.”
“You came to his house?”
“No.”
“He came to my office.”
This was new.
My father’s cardiology appointment had been the previous day.
He met Dr. Wallace again the morning he died.
“What did he want?”
“He gave me an envelope.”
“Where is it?”
“I still have it.”
I stopped breathing.
“Why?”
“He told me to keep it unless you ever asked about Northstar.”
“I am asking.”
“Yes.”
“Open it.”
“No.”
My anger surged.
“Dr. Wallace.”
“He told me to give it to you unopened.”
Ruiz spoke for the first time.
“Doctor, this is Agent Daniel Ruiz with the State Financial Crimes Division.”
Dr. Wallace went silent.
“We need to preserve that envelope exactly as it is.”
“I understand.”
“We are coming to you.”
One hour later, we sat inside Dr. Wallace’s private office.
He looked ten years older than he had sounded on the phone.
He removed a small locked box from a cabinet.
Inside was a yellow envelope.
My name was written on it in my father’s handwriting.
Again.
Jessica.
Dr. Wallace handed it to Ruiz first.
Ruiz photographed the seal.
Then gave it to me.
I opened it.
Inside were two pages and a key.
The first page was a letter.
Jessica,
If Wallace gives you this, then the wall around you has already failed.
I swallowed.
The letter continued.
Brenda came to see me today with Samuel.
Samuel thinks she wants a settlement.
She does not.
She wants the original Northstar recordings and the trust documents.
She knows I kept copies.
She also knows Connor has met you.
My hand stopped.
Connor has met you.
Four years before my father died.
Connor and I had not officially met until eight months after my father’s death.
I stared at the sentence.
“No,” I whispered.
Leah leaned closer.
“What?”
I handed her the page.
My father knew Connor had met me before I believed I met him.
I forced myself to continue.
You may not remember him.
That is probably for the best.
He attended the Hayes Foundation reception two years ago with Brenda.
The room tilted.
The Hayes Foundation reception.
My father had taken me to a small accounting scholarship fundraiser six years ago.
I remembered dozens of people.
I did not remember Connor.
But he had been there.
With Brenda.
Two years before our supposed first date.
My father had known.
If Connor approaches you later, do not assume coincidence.
My chest hurt.
He did not write if.
He wrote later.
As though he expected it.
The next paragraph was worse.
Brenda asked me today whether you were still single.
I told her your life was none of her concern.
She smiled and said everything becomes someone's concern when enough money is involved.
I looked up.
No one spoke.
The marriage had not become a plan on our third date.
The plan existed before our first date.
Maybe before Connor ever spoke to me.
The key fell from the envelope onto the desk.
A small brass bank key.
A number was stamped into it.
417.
The second page contained only a bank name and one sentence.
Box 417 contains what Brenda believes she already destroyed.
Before we could move, Ruiz’s phone rang.
He answered.
His expression changed instantly.
“What hospital?”
I stood.
He listened.
“Condition?”
Another pause.
Then he looked at me.
“Connor has been found.”
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“In the emergency department at St. Catherine’s.”
The same hospital.
“How did he get there?”
“He walked in through the ambulance bay ten minutes ago.”
“Where is Brenda?”
“Unknown.”
“What does Connor say?”
May you like
Ruiz ended the call.
“He says Calvin Ross tried to have him killed.”
