Chapter 12 - The Doctor Who Knew Too Much
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Dr. Malcolm Pierce had been part of the Bellini family's circle for almost twenty years.
He attended their charity events.
Visited Victor Bellini's private residence.
And occasionally provided medical consultations for wealthy clients.
But Giovanni Moretti's financial records suggested something far more troubling.
Payments from companies associated with Victor had reached Pierce shortly before Giovanni died.
And recently, Pierce's name had appeared on documents connected to Teresa's proposed medical evaluation.
The same woman Isabella had tried to portray as confused.
The same woman whose belongings were being removed.
The same woman someone wanted transferred out of her home.
Luca stared at Detective Harris.
“Are you telling me Pierce was involved in my father's death?”
Harris shook his head.
“I'm telling you we have financial connections that require investigation. We don't yet know what those payments were for.”
Luca's expression darkened.
“Then find out.”
“We are.”
For once, Teresa didn't interrupt.
She sat quietly in her wheelchair, watching the wedding photograph.
I wondered whether she was remembering Giovanni's last morning.
Had he kissed her goodbye?
Had they argued over something unimportant?
Had she known it would be the last time she saw him alive?
The thought made my throat tighten.
That evening, Teresa asked me to help her write a letter.
“To who?” I asked.
She smiled sadly.
“To Giovanni.”
I hesitated.
“Your husband?”
She nodded.
“I know he can't read it.”
I sat beside her.
“That's okay.”
She picked up a pen.
Her fingers shook.
For several minutes, she wrote slowly.
Then she handed me the paper.
“Would you read it?”
I swallowed.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
I unfolded it.
My darling Giovanni,
I found your message.
I'm sorry it took me so long.
I wish I could tell you how frightened I've been. But I also want you to know that our son is finally listening to me.
And there's a lovely young woman named Emma who reminded this old lady that her memories still matter.
Tears filled my eyes.
I stopped reading.
Teresa touched my cheek.
“Continue, sweetheart.”
I nodded.
I promise I will keep our photograph where it belongs.
And I promise I will not let anyone take away the life we built together.
I love you still.
Your Teresa.
I folded the letter carefully.
Then hugged her.
She held me for a long time.
Neither of us spoke.
The following morning, Detective Harris returned.
He had news.
Dr. Pierce had agreed to an interview with investigators through his attorney.
At first, he denied wrongdoing.
He said the payments were for legitimate consulting services.
But financial records showed that several invoices had been prepared for work that did not appear to have been performed.
More importantly, records suggested Pierce had provided medical opinions about Teresa without conducting a proper independent examination.
Teresa stared.
“He declared me confused without even speaking to me?”
Harris nodded carefully.
“Some paperwork appears to have been prepared without an adequate assessment.”
She closed her eyes.
“Unbelievable.”
Luca stood.
“Can we stop him?”
“Medical regulators have been notified, and the relevant documents are being examined. Any criminal charges will depend on what the evidence establishes.”
Then Harris looked toward Teresa.
“There's another development.”
She nodded.
“What?”
“We've identified additional correspondence involving Victor Bellini and Silas Grant.”
Luca frowned.
“Isabella's family attorney?”
“Yes.”
The detective opened a folder.
“The correspondence describes a plan to gain control over certain Moretti trust assets by presenting Teresa as incapable of managing her affairs.”
I felt sick.
Teresa looked toward her son.
“That's why they wanted my things gone.”
Luca frowned.
“What do you mean?”
She looked at the wedding photograph.
“Giovanni's diary. His letters. His watch.”
Her voice strengthened.
“They weren't just trying to find evidence.”
I stared at her.
“They were trying to take away the objects you used to prove you remembered your life.”
She nodded.
“If they could convince everyone I didn't care about my own husband's belongings, perhaps they'd find it easier to claim I didn't understand anything else.”
Harris looked thoughtful.
“That is a possible motive we'll examine.”
Teresa lifted her chin.
“Well, they were wrong.”
Then Luca's phone rang.
Arthur Whitcomb.
He listened.
And went pale.
“What do you mean she's filed a petition?”
Teresa looked up.
“Who?”
Luca closed his eyes.
“Isabella.”
He listened again.
Then whispered, “You're kidding.”
When he hung up, his face was cold.
“What happened?” I asked.
He looked toward his mother.
“Isabella has filed an emergency request to become your temporary guardian.”
Teresa stared.
Then she gave a quiet, humorless laugh.
“After everything?”
Luca nodded grimly.
The petition claimed Teresa was confused, emotionally unstable, and being manipulated by household staff.
And one staff member was named specifically.
Me.
I looked at Luca.
He looked back.
May you like
Then he said something that made my knees weaken.
“Emma, Isabella is accusing you of exploiting my mother.”
