Chapter 7: The Daughter My Husband Never Mentioned
For several seconds, I couldn't speak.
I stared at the frozen image on Caleb's phone. The woman in the white coat had dark hair pulled into a tight bun. She appeared to be in her early forties. Her expression was calm, almost unnervingly calm, as she looked directly into the hospital security camera.
"That's impossible," I finally whispered.
Caleb didn't look away from the screen.
"Robert told me he had a daughter.""
I shook my head.
"No. My husband and I were married for fifty-two years. We had one child.
Greg. I would have known.""
"Not necessarily.""
I felt something cold settle in my stomach.
"Explain yourself.""
Caleb placed the phone on the table.
"Before Robert enlisted, he was engaged to a woman named Margaret Collins. They had a daughter. Her name was Abigail.""
I lowered myself into a chair.
"Why have I never heard of her?""
"Because Margaret disappeared shortly after the baby was born. Robert searched for them for years. Eventually, he was told that both had died in a car accident.""
Patricia, who had been standing beside the window, suddenly turned around.
"Wait.""
We looked at her.
"Margaret Collins?""
Caleb nodded.
Patricia pressed a hand against her mouth.
"I knew that name.""
"How?"" I asked.
"Because the woman in that recording wasn't just another hospital employee. Her name was Abigail Collins. She worked at St. Matthew's under her mother's maiden name.""
My heart began racing.
"You knew her?""
Patricia nodded.
"She was a physician. A cardiologist, actually. She was the one who questioned the medication order the night Robert died.""
Caleb leaned forward.
"Did she report it?""
"She tried. But she was removed from the case before she could submit her report.""
I stared at the screen again.
"Then why did Robert never tell me about her?""
Caleb took a slow breath.
"Because he only discovered she was alive a few months before his death.""
I looked at him.
"And he kept that from me?""
"He was afraid Franklin would use her against him.""
Patricia shook her head.
"That poor girl. She had no idea Robert was her father until she was almost forty.""
I pressed my fingers against my temples.
The man I had loved for more than half a century had apparently lived an entire chapter of his life that I knew nothing about.
I wanted to be angry.
I wanted to demand explanations.
But all I could think about was that another woman had lost her father without ever being allowed to know him.
"Where is she now?"" I asked.
Patricia hesitated.
"I don't know. But I remember she left the hospital shortly after Robert died.""
Caleb picked up the memory card.
"Then we'll find her.""
A loud knock interrupted us.
Everyone jumped.
A uniformed police officer entered the room.
"Mrs. Whitmore?""
I stood.
"Yes.""
"I'm Officer Daniel Brooks. We received your call about possible threats and evidence relating to a suspicious death.""
I handed him the memory card.
"Please tell me someone will finally investigate what happened to my husband.""
He examined the card.
"We'll need to make copies and secure the original.""
Caleb showed him the photograph of the SUV outside.
"We also have a witness intimidation incident.""
The officer wrote down the details.
Then he looked at Patricia.
"Ma'am, are you willing to make a statement?""
Patricia nodded.
"Yes. I've been waiting twenty years.""
For the next hour, we explained everything.
The stolen veterans' money.
The falsified medical authorization.
Greg's confession.
The recording.
The threats.
When Officer Brooks finished taking notes, he looked at me.
"Mrs. Whitmore, I'm going to be honest. This involves financial crimes, possible medical misconduct, and a death that occurred two decades ago. We'll need investigators with the appropriate jurisdiction.""
"I understand.""
"But don't confront either man again.""
"I won't.""
He closed his notebook.
"One more thing. You mentioned the bank records. Do you have the original documents?""
I nodded.
"They're secured at the bank.""
"Good. Don't move them without legal guidance.""
Caleb walked us to the parking lot.
The black SUV was gone.
But a white envelope had been tucked beneath the windshield wiper of my car.
My name was written across it.
Caleb stopped me before I could touch it.
"Don't.""
He called Officer Brooks, who returned and carefully removed the envelope.
Inside was a photograph.
It showed a young woman holding a newborn baby.
On the back, someone had written:
*ROBERT'S FIRST FAMILY. ASK HIM WHY HE ABANDONED THEM.*
I looked at the photograph.
The woman was Margaret.
The baby was Abigail.
But there was something else.
A second photograph had been tucked behind the first.
It showed Robert standing outside a small house, holding a little girl's hand.
The girl was about six years old.
And standing beside them was a younger Franklin Mercer.
I stared at the picture.
"Why was Franklin there?""
Caleb took it from me.
His expression darkened.
"Because Franklin didn't just know about Robert's daughter.""
He turned the photograph over.
There was another message.
*HE HELPED RAISE HER.*
Before I could process those words, my phone rang.
An unknown number.
I answered cautiously.
"Hello?""
A woman's voice spoke.
"Mrs. Whitmore, my name is Abigail Collins.""
My knees nearly gave way.
"I've been trying to reach you.""
I swallowed.
"Are you Robert's daughter?""
There was a long silence.
Then she said:
"I believe I am. And if you want to know what really happened to your husband, you need to hear something I discovered three weeks before he died.""
"What?""
Her voice dropped.
"Your son wasn't the only person Franklin was blackmailing.""
Then she added:
May you like
"Franklin was also blackmailing me.""
The call ended.
