Chapter 6 - What It Cost Anna
Richard spent the next two days tearing apart his own history.
He postponed meetings.
Cancelled a flight.
Ignored investors.
His senior executives received the same message: family matter.
Nobody questioned it.
Martin worked beside him from six in the morning until nearly midnight.
They built a timeline.
Anna's termination.
Elizabeth's Chicago trip.
The hidden vendor payments.
Dr. Adrian Kell's consulting contracts.
Elizabeth's first fainting episode.
Her diagnosis.
Her increasing anxiety.
Her death.
Dates that had once belonged to separate memories began lining up.
That terrified Richard.
He remembered Elizabeth becoming suspicious of medication.
At the time, he had thought it was fear.
She had once asked him, “Do you ever wonder why every doctor Daniel recommends already knows our entire story?”
Richard had answered, “That's what referrals are.”
She had stared at him for a long time.
He remembered another night.
She had poured pills into the bathroom sink.
Richard had become furious.
“They're for your heart.”
Elizabeth had replied, “What if my heart isn't the problem?”
He had called Dr. Kell.
Kell assured him confusion and paranoia could accompany severe cardiac stress.
Richard had believed the doctor.
Why wouldn't he?
Now Richard sat inside the same bathroom holding an old prescription bottle.
Beta blocker.
Anti-arrhythmic drug.
Anti-anxiety medication.
All prescribed through Kell's network.
He called a cardiologist unaffiliated with anyone he knew.
Then another.
He sent Elizabeth's surviving medical records without names and asked for independent review.
Both physicians responded cautiously.
Neither could confirm that the records supported the severity of diagnosis Richard remembered.
One said something Richard could not stop hearing.
“There are missing test results.”
That night, Richard called Daniel.
“I want to meet.”
Daniel replied instantly.
“Good.”
They met at Richard's office.
Daniel entered carrying no files.
He closed the door.
“This has gone too far.”
Richard sat behind his desk.
“What has?”
“You reopening Elizabeth's final year because a disturbed former employee found your dog.”
Richard watched him.
“Did you send the courier package?”
Daniel laughed.
“What package?”
“Good.”
Daniel's smile disappeared.
“Richard, listen to me.”
“I am.”
“Anna Brooks is manipulating you.”
“For money?”
“Influence. Revenge. Who knows?”
“She refused one hundred thousand dollars.”
Daniel paced.
“People like her don't always want money.”
“People like her?”
Daniel stopped.
“You know what I mean.”
“No. Explain it.”
Daniel exhaled.
“You're angry.”
“Yes.”
“You should be.”
Richard leaned forward.
“Why did Elizabeth tell you not to fire Anna?”
Daniel's face changed.
Tiny.
Enough.
“That email was taken out of context.”
“How?”
“She changed her mind.”
“When?”
“After returning from Chicago.”
“Anna was fired before Elizabeth returned.”
Daniel said nothing.
Richard's voice became quiet.
“You're losing track of your lies.”
Daniel walked toward the window.
“For thirty years I have protected you.”
“From what?”
“Everyone.”
“Did Elizabeth need protection from me too?”
Daniel turned.
“That isn't fair.”
“Did you block letters Anna sent me?”
“No.”
“Did someone in your office?”
“I don't know.”
“Did you arrange Dr. Kell?”
“Yes.”
“Why was he receiving foundation consulting payments?”
Daniel's face hardened.
“Because wealthy families have security issues ordinary people don't understand.”
“Behavioral-risk consultation.”
“Yes.”
“What behavior?”
“Threat assessments. Staff concerns. People around Elizabeth.”
“Anna?”
“Among others.”
Richard stood.
“So my wife's charitable foundation paid the doctor treating her to assess whether one of her employees was dangerous?”
Daniel rubbed his forehead.
“You're twisting this.”
“Then untwist it.”
For the first time, Daniel looked tired.
Old.
“Elizabeth was not well.”
“My cardiologists disagree.”
“What cardiologists?”
“Independent ones.”
Daniel froze.
Richard saw fear.
Real fear.
“You sent them records?”
“Yes.”
“That was irresponsible.”
Richard stared at him.
“Why?”
“Because medical records can be misunderstood without full context.”
“Then give me the missing context.”
“I don't have it.”
“Dr. Kell does?”
Daniel did not answer.
Richard knew.
He reached for the phone.
Daniel stepped closer.
“Do not contact him.”
Richard stopped.
“Why?”
Daniel's voice lowered.
“Because you are emotionally compromised.”
Richard almost smiled.
“That phrase.”
“What?”
“You used it at Elizabeth's funeral.”
Daniel's face softened.
“You had just lost your wife.”
“You told me not to read her emails because I was emotionally compromised.”
“I was trying to help.”
“You handled the estate.”
“Yes.”
“You handled her foundation records.”
“Yes.”
“You handled the legal cleanup.”
“Richard—”
“You were everywhere.”
Daniel stared at him.
Something passed between them.
Not confession.
Not yet.
But the friendship was gone.
Richard felt it.
Perhaps it had been gone for years.
He simply had not noticed.
Daniel picked up his coat.
“Anna will destroy what you have left of Elizabeth.”
Richard said nothing.
Daniel moved toward the door.
Then he turned.
“She loved you. Remember that before you let strangers rewrite her.”
Richard waited until he left.
Then he called Anna.
She arrived an hour later.
Richard showed her the medical review.
Anna read slowly.
When she finished, she looked sick.
“I think this is what Elizabeth found.”
Richard nodded.
“So do I.”
Anna touched the locket.
“She kept saying, ‘They want me to doubt myself.’”
Richard closed his eyes.
“Who?”
“I assumed Daniel.”
“Maybe Kell.”
“Maybe both.”
Richard sat down.
Anna watched him.
“There's something I didn't tell you.”
His eyes opened.
“What?”
“The message isn't just a letter.”
Richard stared.
“What is it?”
Anna reached into her backpack.
This time she removed a small digital voice recorder.
Old.
Scratched.
Wrapped in a plastic sandwich bag.
Richard felt his chest tighten.
“Elizabeth recorded something?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Eleven minutes.”
“Have you listened?”
Anna nodded.
Richard stood.
“Then play it.”
“No.”
Anger flashed through him.
“Anna.”
“She made me promise to wait.”
“For what?”
“For proof that you had stopped trusting Daniel blindly.”
Richard laughed bitterly.
“Congratulations.”
“This isn't funny.”
“I know.”
Anna looked down at the recorder.
“There is one more condition.”
Richard said nothing.
“She wanted Daniel present when you heard the final part.”
Richard's expression hardened.
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
“You've heard it.”
“Yes.”
“Then you know.”
Anna looked at him.
“No. That's the part I never listened to.”
Richard frowned.
“She divided the recording.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“The last section is password protected.”
Richard stared.
“What's the password?”
Anna reached for the locket.
“I think it's in here.”
She turned it over.
For years, Richard had believed the locket contained nothing.
Anna pressed a fingernail into the inner rim.
A thin silver plate shifted.
Richard leaned closer.
Behind it, etched almost invisibly, were six numbers.
21497.
Richard stopped breathing.
Anna looked at him.
“What does it mean?”
Richard knew immediately.
February 14, 1997.
May you like
The day he proposed to Elizabeth.
---
