Chapter 3 - THE WOMAN IN THE BUTTERFLY NECKLACE
The following morning, Daniel arrived at St. Catherine's Medical Center before sunrise.
He left Lily with Mrs. Alvarez, a trusted child-care professional he had personally vetted, and arranged for a therapist to visit that afternoon.
He had also changed the estate's security codes.
Margaret was no longer permitted to enter the house without his explicit approval.
She had responded by leaving him eleven voicemails, each more furious than the last.
He listened to none of them.
At the hospital, Daniel met Dr. Sarah Collins, who had agreed to help him locate Emily's medical records through the appropriate legal channels.
“Your wife's file is archived,” Sarah explained. “But if there were discrepancies in her treatment, we need to know what they were before making accusations.”
“I don't want accusations,” Daniel replied. “I want the truth.”
The hospital's compliance officer provided the records after Daniel's attorney submitted the necessary authorization.
The documents revealed something unsettling.
Emily had visited St. Catherine's three times during the month before her death. Her appointments had been scheduled under the supervision of a physician named Dr. Samuel Pierce.
Daniel recognized the name.
Pierce had been a consultant to Bennett Industries' charitable medical foundation.
The foundation that had received hundreds of thousands of dollars in donations from Daniel's company.
And the same foundation that had transferred money to the private consulting firm named in Emily's envelope.
“Who was on duty the night she died?” Daniel asked.
The compliance officer checked the file.
“Dr. Pierce signed the final review. But the attending physician listed here was a woman named Natalie Brooks.”
Daniel leaned forward.
“Can I speak with her?”
“She's no longer employed by this hospital.”
“Where is she?”
The officer hesitated.
“I don't have that information.”
Daniel's attorney made several calls.
By noon, they had found an old address in a neighboring state, a disconnected phone number, and an employment record from a small rehabilitation clinic.
Natalie had left hospital work shortly after Emily's death.
There was no explanation in her personnel file.
Daniel drove to the clinic himself.
The receptionist looked uncomfortable when he introduced himself.
“I'm sorry, Mr. Bennett. Ms. Brooks doesn't see former patients here.”
“I'm not a patient. I'm investigating my wife's death.”
The woman's expression changed.
She disappeared into a back office.
Ten minutes later, a woman in her early forties entered the waiting room.
She wore plain navy scrubs and a silver butterfly necklace.
Daniel recognized it immediately.
“Were you there when my wife died?”
Natalie looked at him for a long time.
“Yes.”
“Did you know her?”
“Not well enough.”
“What does that mean?”
Natalie glanced toward the receptionist.
“Come with me.”
She led him into a small consultation room and closed the door.
For several seconds, she seemed unable to speak.
Then she removed her glasses.
“Your wife came to me because she believed someone was altering medical records connected to the Bennett Foundation.”
Daniel's stomach tightened.
“What records?”
“Patient treatment files. Medication orders. Billing statements. She had discovered that the foundation was paying for procedures that had never happened.”
“Who was responsible?”
“I don't know everything. But she believed your mother and Richard Cole were involved.”
Daniel sat down slowly.
“Why didn't you tell the police?”
“I tried.”
Natalie opened a drawer and removed a sealed envelope.
“I gave a statement after Emily died. Two days later, my supervisor told me the hospital had received a complaint accusing me of falsifying records. I was suspended. Then the complaint disappeared, but my career was finished.”
She placed the envelope on the table.
“I kept a copy of everything I could.”
Daniel opened it.
Inside were handwritten notes, appointment records, and a photocopy of an unsigned medical order.
Natalie pointed to the date.
“This was entered into Emily's file the evening she died. The medication listed here conflicted with the treatment plan her regular physician had prescribed.”
Daniel stared at the page.
“Was it administered?”
Natalie swallowed.
“I cannot tell you that from this copy alone. The electronic audit trail was removed before I could access it.”
“Then why did the hospital rule her death a medical emergency?”
“Because the attending physician signed the report, and the hospital accepted his explanation.”
Daniel's hands curled into fists.
“Did Emily know she was in danger?”
“She was frightened. She told me she had copies of the original records and financial documents. She said she was going to confront someone.”
“Who?”
Natalie looked at him.
“Your mother.”
The room seemed to shrink around him.
Daniel stood and paced toward the window.
“Why would Emily keep this from me?”
“Perhaps she wanted proof before she involved you. Perhaps she was afraid of what you might do if you knew.”
He thought of Lily's words.
You were always busy.
His wife might have spent her final weeks trying to protect him from a scandal he hadn't even noticed.
“Did she mention a blue envelope?” he asked.
Natalie nodded immediately.
“She said she had prepared a packet for you. She planned to leave it in a safe place.”
Daniel showed her the photograph from Emily's desk.
Natalie went pale.
“That was taken outside the hospital the afternoon before she died.”
“Who is the man beside her?”
“I don't know his name. But I remember seeing him in the parking garage.”
“Was he a doctor?”
“No. He wore a suit. He was carrying a brown leather briefcase.”
Daniel called his security director and described the man.
Then he turned back to Natalie.
“There's something else. My daughter says my mother has been hurting her. She also says she has kept a secret for months.”
Natalie's face softened.
“Children sometimes overhear things adults assume they don't understand.”
“Could Lily have seen something connected to Emily's death?”
“It's possible.”
Daniel thanked her and left with the documents.
By the time he returned to his car, his phone was vibrating.
A message had arrived from an unknown number.
STOP ASKING ABOUT EMILY. YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU'RE WALKING INTO.
A second message followed.
It contained a photograph of Lily standing in the estate's garden.
The picture had been taken that morning.
Daniel felt the blood drain from his face.
Someone was watching his daughter.
He called security immediately.
Then he looked at the photograph of Emily one more time.
For eighteen months, he had believed his family had suffered an unbearable tragedy.
May you like
Now he understood that the tragedy might have been only the beginning.
And somewhere inside his own house, a six-year-old girl knew more than anyone realized.
