Chapter 5 - The Doctor Beside My DaughterI was out of bed before anyone could stop me.
I had taken pills.
Injected hormones into my stomach.
Counted days.
Measured temperatures.
Cried in bathrooms.
Smiled through baby showers.
Then we met Dr. Patrick Mercer.
Back then he had been one of the most respected reproductive endocrinologists in Connecticut.
Calm.
Patient.
Reassuring.
He was the one who told us IVF was our best chance.
The one who collected my eggs.
The one who called when fertilization succeeded.
The one who transferred the embryo that became Grace.
Nine months before my crash, he had disappeared from the clinic.
I was told he had moved out of state.
Now I learned he had changed his surname to Cole and married Vanessa.
Detective Ruiz returned before sunrise.
Daniel came with him.
My mother tried to have Daniel removed.
I stopped her.
Not because I wanted him there.
Because I wanted answers.
Ruiz placed a recorder on the table.
“Mr. Bennett has agreed to explain what he knows.”
Daniel looked terrible.
“Start talking,” I said.
He did.
Patrick Mercer had joined Bennett Development four years earlier as a private investor after selling part of his medical practice.
He invested nearly two million dollars into one of Daniel’s condominium projects.
The project failed.
Patrick lost most of his investment.
“He blamed me,” Daniel said.
“Was it your fault?”
“Partly.”
“Meaning?”
“I moved money from the development account.”
Michael, who had arrived moments earlier, swore under his breath.
“To where?”
“Another project.”
“That’s illegal.”
“Yes.”
Daniel looked at the floor.
“Patrick threatened to report me.”
“So you paid him?”
“I gave him equity.”
“And?”
“And I introduced him to Vanessa.”
I stared.
“You introduced your mistress to her husband?”
“They weren’t married then.”
The ugliness of Daniel’s world seemed endless.
Ruiz interrupted.
“Continue.”
Daniel explained that Patrick and Vanessa married quickly.
Then their relationship deteriorated.
Patrick became controlling.
Jealous.
Obsessed with Daniel.
“He believed Vanessa still wanted me,” Daniel said.
“She did,” I replied.
Daniel looked away.
“Eventually, yes.”
“When did your affair start?”
“Six months ago.”
My mother made a disgusted sound.
Daniel continued.
“Patrick discovered it three months ago.”
“And didn’t kill you?”
“He wanted something else.”
“What?”
Daniel looked at me.
“The company.”
I laughed.
“Of course.”
“He threatened to expose the money transfers unless I signed over controlling interest.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
Ruiz leaned forward.
“So why does he believe the child belongs to him?”
Daniel’s face went pale.
“Because two weeks ago he sent me records from the fertility clinic.”
“What records?”
He placed a folded document on the table.
I did not want to touch it.
Michael opened it instead.
His face changed.
“What the hell?”
“What?”
He turned the paper toward me.
Embryo identification logs.
Patient: Claire Bennett.
Partner: Daniel Bennett.
But beneath one entry, the donor identification field contained another code.
PM-0417.
Patrick Mercer.
My body turned cold.
“That could be fake.”
“It could,” Ruiz said.
“Then why are we discussing it like it’s real?”
“Because Dr. Mercer had access to the laboratory.”
I gripped the blanket.
Daniel continued.
“He claimed he switched samples.”
My mother stood.
“I’m calling an attorney.”
Ruiz raised a hand.
“Mrs. Bennett, please.”
“No. Someone is telling my daughter that a doctor may have used his own genetic material without consent. She needs counsel.”
She was right.
I looked at Daniel.
“When Patrick showed you this, what did you do?”
“I didn’t believe him.”
“What did Vanessa say?”
Daniel hesitated.
My voice hardened.
“What did Vanessa say?”
“She said Patrick had been obsessed with having a child.”
I felt nauseated.
“He and Vanessa couldn’t?”
“No.”
“Then why would he use his genetic material with me?”
Daniel looked sick.
“Revenge.”
Ruiz spoke quietly.
“Against Daniel.”
Patrick believed Daniel had stolen his money.
Then Daniel slept with his wife.
Grace might have been conceived before the affair, but Patrick could have seen her as a weapon years in advance.
My daughter reduced to revenge.
“No.”
I shook my head.
“I don’t believe it.”
“We’ll test,” Mom said.
Ruiz nodded.
“With legal authorization.”
I looked at Daniel.
“And the message? ‘Ask your husband what he promised.’”
He closed his eyes.
“I promised Patrick I would sign over thirty percent of the company if he left you and Grace alone.”
“When?”
“Yesterday afternoon.”
Hours before my crash.
“You knew he threatened us?”
“I thought he was bluffing.”
My mother stepped toward him.
“You knew someone had threatened your pregnant wife and you let her drive home alone?”
“I didn’t think—”
“No,” Mom snapped. “You didn’t.”
Daniel looked at me.
“I was going to tell you.”
“When? After he murdered me?”
“I swear I thought he wanted money.”
Ruiz’s phone rang.
He answered, listened, then stood.
“What?”
Ruiz looked at me.
“We located Patrick Cole.”
“Where?”
“At his house.”
Relief barely had time to register.
Then Ruiz continued.
“He’s dead.”
Silence.
“Dead?”
“Gunshot wound.”
Daniel stared.
“When?”
“Medical examiner will determine.”
Ruiz put away his phone.
“But his wife is missing.”
“Vanessa?”
“Yes.”
My heart pounded.
“She was just in surgery.”
“She discharged herself against medical advice forty minutes ago.”
Daniel went white.
Ruiz looked directly at him.
“And according to security footage, someone helped her leave.”
“Who?”
Ruiz turned his phone around.
The grainy image showed Vanessa in a wheelchair.
Behind her stood a man wearing surgical scrubs and a mask.
Even with half his face covered, Daniel recognized him.
Michael did too.
“Who is that?” I asked.
Daniel whispered the name.
“Dr. Stephen Vale.”
I knew that name.
Everyone in the hospital did.
May you like
Stephen Vale was the fertility clinic director who had worked beside Patrick Mercer during my IVF treatment.
And he was also the surgeon currently overseeing Grace’s NICU care.
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