Chapter Eighteen Her

Chapter Eighteen Her

Present Day

The waiting area outside Richmond’s medical office had a sterile, artwork-in-hotels look to it. Beige walls with a yellow

tint. Blue chairs and matching blue carpet that felt squishy when you walked on it. No way Kathryn designed this place...

or ever stepped in here.

The offices were in a separate building adjacent to the hospital where Richmond had performed most of his surgeries. The practice

consisted of several doctors I’d met only briefly and didn’t intend to get to know now, but Thomas Linfield had other ideas.

He was the pediatric neurosurgeon who ran the office and Richmond’s former business partner. When I called about coming to

clean out Richmond’s office, Linfield insisted on having a meeting. A meeting that was supposed to start a half hour ago.

If the delay was a power move, I wasn’t impressed.

Just as I started calling Elias to enlist his expensive help, Dr. Linfield rushed around the corner and stopped in front of

me. Fit in a fancy dark suit. Squinty eyes behind glasses. He was a yacht club guy, and his gray hair had that permanent windblown

look to it.

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting,” he said.

Uh-huh. Sure, he was.

He clasped his hands in front of him as if he were going to start praying. “Please accept my condolences about Richmond. I

meant to talk with you sooner. He was a great man.”

He wasn’t. “Thanks.”

Thomas had been to the house a few times while Richmond was still alive, and we’d exchanged mundane greetings. The office

also threw a party to celebrate our sham of a marriage. I had no interest in going out to dinner or playing the role for an

extended period of time, but I needed that one party to publicly establish myself as his wife and learn about who mattered

to Richmond or might have intel on him.

We managed to be civil and pretend to be married for two hours, delivering virtuoso acting performances as the music played

and the waitstaff passed hors d’oeuvres. Him to shore up his reputation after dumping his wife for a younger woman. Me to

study the crowd.

Once it was over, I vowed never to repeat the evening. Richmond squawked at first about needing to keep up appearances. His

reputation mattered and all that. None of it swayed me. I was content to play the reclusive new wife as I plotted his downfall.

But it did mean that to get answers to questions now I had to talk with some of the same people I’d avoided for months.

Thomas shook his head. “I saw you at the service but everything was so chaotic and difficult. It seemed like the wrong place

to talk.”

Because Kathryn was there. Thomas had chatted with her. Huddled together, whispering back and forth. Kathryn had worked the

entire funeral, making sure to remind everyone she was the first Mrs. Dougherty and the only one who mattered.

I didn’t care then or now because I had no desire to make friends with anyone attached to Richmond. I was here for other reasons. “I’m not sure why you had to come and meet me. I don’t need an escort into Richmond’s office.”

“Actually, you do.” Thomas settled in the chair next to mine. “I know this is a surprise but I’m afraid I can’t let you—”

“I’m going to stop you.” Not in the mood for a power move by this guy. “I’m Richmond’s wife. Richmond was a partner in this

venture and some of his property is here. Plus, there are partnership payouts that you and my attorney need to work out and

I want to be ready.”

That sounded right. The threat made Thomas go pale, so it must have been.

“Mrs. Dougherty said—”

“I’m Mrs. Dougherty.” Sometimes throwing the name around shifted the conversation in my direction.

“The other... she said...” He stopped for a few seconds, as if searching for a coherent argument.

Another Kathryn roadblock. Of course. “Whatever Kathryn said or didn’t say is irrelevant. She and Richmond were divorced.

She has no interest in his estate or this practice. Sharing information with her would be inappropriate.”

Thomas looked rattled. “I wasn’t privy to the divorce arrangements.”

Not buying it. Men talked. They shared my wife is so awful stories. His business partners would know the settlement terms because they had a financial interest in Richmond and Kathryn’s

divorce.

Then it hit me. “Has Kathryn been in his office since he died?”

“No, of course not.” Thomas’s voice didn’t waver that time. “She asked to, but no. There are confidential records in the office.”

“Dr. Linfield—”

“Thomas.”

Not Tom. He wanted the full Thomas. Might be a rich-guy thing. Same with why Richmond was never Rich. “I don’t want to fight

with you.”

“I don’t want that either.”

“You’re welcome to join me in the office while I sift through Richmond’s things, but I’m sure you have better things to do.”

This seemed like the right time for a full-throated bluff. “Or we can call Elias Zimmer and he can explain my rights to you

as Richmond’s spouse.”

“Elias?”

Throwing Elias’s name around worked, too. Good to know. “My attorney.”

“I didn’t realize.” Thomas stood up and pulled a set of keys out of his pants pocket. “But you’re correct. I don’t have the

time to sit in here all afternoon.”

He was a man who made people wait and never apologized for it. The medical industry thrived on that sort of thing. He had

a big, important air about him just like Richmond. That hadn’t turned out so great for Richmond.

Thomas opened the door and gestured for me to go inside. The office had a very different look from the waiting area. A massive mahogany desk filled the far end of the room. Bookshelves and filing cabinets lined two walls. This room did bear Kathryn’s mark. The soothing medium blue paint and fancy charcoal drawings of what looked like the kids when they were younger gave the space a more refined, high-end look. That likely made it easier to charge the rates Richmond did... or had.

“Is there something specific you’re looking for?” Thomas asked.

Good question. This likely amounted to a wasted enterprise. Richmond wouldn’t store his secrets somewhere so obvious. The

best way to get information stood in front of me.

“We, of course, removed all of the patient files,” he continued.

That answered that. “The safe.”

Thomas didn’t act shocked at the suggestion. “I don’t have the key.”

“I do.” I held it up. At least I assumed it was a safe key. It had been in one of Richmond’s dresser drawers and had a label

that said “safe,” so I took a shot. The lack of a safe at the house pointed me here.

“Bottom left drawer.” Thomas sounded resigned to let my fishing expedition happen.

The red leather desk chair had an I’m the boss feel to it. I could almost imagine Richmond lounging there, dreaming up new ways to be an asshole.

I opened the drawer in question, hoping the safe required a key and not a code because I had no idea what Richmond’s secret

password might be. A black box was hidden inside. One turn and it opened. Jackpot. This might be the first time my luck held in months.

I tried to pull the safe out but the damn thing seemed to be attached to the wood. What I really wanted to do was load the

contents of the office on a truck—all of it—and take it back to the house to sift through in private. Thomas didn’t strike

me as a guy who would let that happen.

A quick visual inventory turned up some personal items. A few envelopes I didn’t want to open in front of Thomas. Assorted files, including one marked with each kid’s name. A binder with clippings from articles about Richmond. Of course he kept them here, where he could read them every day. Narcissistic jackass.

No matter what was in there it was all going home with me. I scooped out the contents and dumped it all on the desk. “Do you

have a box?”

“I need to look through every item. There could be confidential information in there.”

“We both know it would have been reckless to keep patient information locked away where no one else could find it. This is

clearly personal material, right?”

Thomas wore the frown of a man not accustomed to being told no. “I have to insist—”

Enough of this. “I talked with Peter Cullen the other day.”

Now Thomas looked horrified. All wide-eyed with his mouth hanging open. “Why would you do that? What about the litigation?”

Legal proceedings. Elias needed a lecture about his gatekeeping tendencies.

“I know about the issues between Peter and my husband.” I didn’t. And if I had to say “husband” one more time I was going

to lose it.

Thomas frowned. “That’s unfortunate.”

I leaned back in the big chair. “I would have to know, wouldn’t I?”

“Well, yes.”

It had been a guess but an educated one. If Richmond’s assets had been in peril that meant mine were now on shaky ground. “Where is the paperwork relating to the Cullens?”

“With the attorneys.” Thomas seemed to compose himself. His voice returned to normal after a few minutes of being louder and

higher. “Mr. Cullen is very upset, understandably so, but his accusations are without basis.”

Someone needed to start spilling the information on these allegations. “That’s not what Peter thinks.”

“The man lost his son. A devastating and unfortunate reality in surgeries of that type.”

The stink of cover-up was all over this. “I’m taking everything on this desk and everything not nailed down in this office

home with me.”

Thomas shook his head. “It would be better—”

“That wasn’t a request. As the person who may end up being at least partially financially responsible if Richmond did screw

up, I get to decide.” Then just for fun: “Fetch me that box.”