Chapter 7: My Mother Finally Confessed
I read the message three times.
*YOUR MOTHER KNOWS WHO DID IT.*
Beneath the words was the photograph of my father in his hospital bed.
His face looked pale. His eyes were closed. A thin tube ran beneath his nose, and a hospital blanket covered his chest.
I recognized the room immediately.
It was the private hospital where he had died sixteen years earlier.
I looked at my mother.
She was staring at my phone.
And she was crying.
"Mom?""
She didn't respond.
"Look at me.""
Her hands trembled as she reached for the edge of the sofa.
"Marcus, please.""
"Who killed Dad?""
She closed her eyes.
Samuel moved toward us.
"Eleanor, it's time.""
My mother shook her head.
"You don't understand what happened.""
"Then explain it!""
My voice echoed through the foyer.
The officer standing near the entrance looked over, but I didn't care.
I'd spent sixteen years believing my father had died because his heart had simply stopped working.
I'd spent six months believing my mother was dead.
And now I was discovering that the people closest to me had apparently spent years hiding the truth.
I wasn't going to accept another incomplete answer.
My mother finally looked up.
"Your father wasn't supposed to die that night.""
I felt my stomach tighten.
"What does that mean?""
She wiped her cheeks.
"David had been threatening him for weeks. Richard knew he was stealing money, but he didn't know how far David was willing to go.""
Samuel pulled a chair closer.
"Tell him about the second hospital visit.""
My mother nodded slowly.
"Three days before Richard died, he received a phone call from Michael.""
"Michael? My cousin?""
"Yes. Michael told your father he had found irregularities in his medical records. He said someone had requested changes to his medication.""
I stared at her.
"Who requested them?""
"Your father suspected David.""
Samuel shook his head.
"Richard was wrong about that part.""
My mother looked at him.
"How do you know?""
"Because I was there when he received the second report.""
I turned toward Samuel.
"What second report?""
He opened his briefcase and removed a medical envelope.
"Your father had a private physician review his prescriptions. The physician found that one of the medications had been substituted.""
My stomach dropped.
"Substituted with what?""
"Something that should never have been administered to him.""
My mother covered her mouth.
"Richard didn't know how dangerous it was until the evening he collapsed.""
I looked between them.
"Then who changed the medication?""
My mother took a trembling breath.
"Benita.""
I stopped moving.
"What?""
She shook her head quickly.
"No. Not the Benita you knew when you married her. I mean she was involved in arranging the medication delivery. She said she was helping David.""
I stared at the empty space where my wife had been standing.
Officer Hayes had taken her away minutes earlier.
"You're saying Benita poisoned my father?""
My mother nodded.
"She brought the medication to the hospital. She told the nurse it was prescribed by Richard's specialist.""
Samuel immediately interrupted.
"Careful, Eleanor. We have evidence of the medication substitution, but we don't yet have proof of who physically administered it.""
My mother looked down.
"I saw her.""
The room became silent.
I moved closer.
"You saw Benita give Dad the medication?""
"Yes.""
"Why didn't you tell the police?""
My mother began crying harder.
"Because David showed me photographs of you leaving work. He knew your schedule. He told me if I spoke, you would be next.""
I stepped away.
"So you protected me by letting me believe Dad died naturally?""
"I was trying to keep you alive!""
Her voice broke.
"I had already lost Richard. I couldn't lose you too.""
I wanted to be angry.
I was angry.
But looking at my mother, I saw something I'd never noticed before.
She wasn't simply grieving.
She had been carrying fear for sixteen years.
Officer Hayes approached.
"Mrs. Bennett, I need you to understand that what you're telling us is extremely serious.""
"I understand.""
"Can you identify the medication?""
She nodded.
"There's a photograph in the envelope Samuel has.""
Samuel searched through his documents and produced a printed image of a small prescription bottle.
The label carried my father's name.
But the handwriting wasn't from his regular physician.
Hayes photographed the document.
"We'll need the original medical records.""
Samuel nodded.
"I know where they're stored.""
Before anyone could say anything else, his phone rang again.
He checked the screen.
His expression changed.
"That's Michael.""
I stood immediately.
"Answer it.""
Samuel hesitated.
Officer Hayes gestured for him to put the call on speaker.
He did.
"Michael?""
A man's exhausted voice came through.
"Samuel, listen carefully. I don't have much time.""
Samuel moved closer to the table.
"Where are you?""
"That doesn't matter.""
"Michael, the police need you to come forward.""
A bitter laugh came through the speaker.
"The police? You think the police don't already know?""
Officer Hayes stepped forward.
"This is Officer Hayes. Identify yourself.""
Silence.
Then the man spoke.
"Michael Bennett.""
Hayes exchanged a glance with another officer.
"Dr. Bennett, we need to speak with you regarding your father's death.""
Michael's breathing became heavier.
"My father didn't kill Richard.""
I felt my heart pounding.
"Then who did?""
Michael was quiet.
Finally, he answered.
"Your father did it himself.""
My mother gasped.
I stared at the phone.
"What?""
Michael continued.
"Richard discovered the medication substitution. He knew someone had tampered with his prescription. But the substance found in his blood wasn't the one that killed him.""
Samuel leaned forward.
"Michael, what are you talking about?""
"The first report was wrong. The second report was incomplete. Richard had a separate medical condition that made the substituted medication dangerous, but someone gave him another substance before the emergency.""
My mother shook her head.
"That's impossible.""
Michael's voice became quieter.
"I saw the original laboratory results.""
"Who gave it to him?"" I demanded.
Michael took a long breath.
"Someone who was already in the hospital room.""
My mother suddenly stood.
"Don't!""
I turned toward her.
"Mom?""
She looked at the phone.
"Michael, don't tell him that.""
I felt my entire body go cold.
"Tell me what?""
Michael spoke again.
"Marcus, your mother didn't just witness what happened.""
He paused.
"She was the one who brought the final medication into the room.""
My mother collapsed into the sofa.
I stared at her.
"Is that true?""
She covered her face.
Samuel stepped toward her.
"Eleanor...""
She raised one hand.
"Please.""
I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
"Mom, did you give Dad something?""
She looked at me through tears.
"I didn't know.""
"Didn't know what?""
"Your father was in terrible pain. He couldn't breathe properly. The doctor told me to give him the medication from the bedside cabinet.""
"Which doctor?""
She shook her head.
"I don't remember.""
Michael's voice interrupted.
"I do.""
Everyone turned toward the phone.
"It was Dr. Collins.""
Samuel frowned.
"Dr. Collins died five years ago.""
"Exactly," Michael replied.
"And before he died, he left me a statement.""
Hayes immediately reached for his notebook.
"Where is it?""
Michael hesitated.
"With the second will.""
I looked at Samuel.
"The second will is in the bank?""
"Yes.""
Michael continued.
"Richard knew something had happened. He recorded a message before he died. He left instructions that the recording should only be released if his death was ever investigated.""
My mother began sobbing.
"Richard...""
Michael's voice cracked.
"He wanted Marcus to hear it.""
I moved closer to the phone.
"Where is the will?""
Samuel answered.
"At the First National Bank. In the secured family deposit box.""
"Then we're going there.""
Officer Hayes nodded.
"We'll arrange for the necessary access.""
Michael suddenly spoke again.
"Don't go alone.""
I frowned.
"Why?""
"Because David knows about the box.""
Samuel's face hardened.
"How?""
"Because he tried to open it yesterday.""
I looked toward the entrance.
David had been taken to the station, but apparently, he wasn't the only person moving pieces behind the scenes.
Michael continued.
"There's something else, Marcus.""
"What?""
"The second will doesn't just expose David.""
He paused.
"It names the person your father believed was responsible for everything.""
The call disconnected.
I stared at the phone.
My mother was still crying.
I turned toward her.
"Did Dad know?""
She nodded.
"Yes.""
"Did he know who was responsible?""
She looked at me.
Then she whispered:
"He knew before he died.""
I swallowed.
"Who?""
My mother looked toward the memorial portrait.
"Your father suspected the person who had been sleeping beside you every night.""
I felt the blood drain from my face.
Benita.
My wife.
The woman I had trusted with everything.
But there was something else.
When I looked at the photograph on my phone again, I noticed a reflection in the glass behind my father's hospital bed.
A figure standing near the doorway.
I enlarged the image.
And recognized the person immediately.
It wasn't David.
It wasn't Benita.
It wasn't Samuel.
It was my mother.
May you like
Holding a small black envelope.
The same kind of envelope she'd handed to the police that afternoon.
