Chapter 13: The Last Thing Douglas Said
The formal interview at the DA's office lasted three hours.
Douglas arrived with Preston Hale and left without him.
Preston Hale withdrew from representation at 6:15 p.m., citing a conflict of interest he declined to specify.
The withdrawal was filed in writing.
Douglas was given forty-eight hours to retain new counsel.
Terrence heard this from the duty attorney, a woman named Grace Obi, who called him at the hospital at 6:30.
"The toxicologist's report is the piece," Grace said.
"The pharmacy records establish the pattern.
The journal establishes the timeline.
But the toxicologist's letter is independent verification.
It removes the argument that Vivienne was confused or fabricating.
It establishes that what happened to her is consistent with what happened to Delilah."
"What's he being charged with?"
"We're looking at child endangerment, unlawful administration of a controlled substance to a minor, and falsification of medical records.
The medical board is pursuing parallel action on his license.
And the Vivienne matter — that's a separate track, but the DA wants it on the record." A pause.
"There's also the question of Lieutenant Garrett and the camera tampering.
That's internal affairs, but it connects."
"Is Douglas still in the building?"
"He left twenty minutes ago.
He knows what's coming.
His attorney — the new one, whoever that ends up being — will tell him to cooperate or it gets worse." Grace paused again.
"Terrence.
You locked that door at the right moment."
"Charlotte locked it," he said.
"She walked two miles to hand us the evidence.
I just didn't open the door."
He ended the call and stood in the hospital corridor.
Down the hall, the door to Delilah's room was open.
He could hear voices — Charlotte's, Vivienne's, Ruth's — overlapping in the easy way of people who have been separated and are relearning the sound of each other.
He was about to sit down when his phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
He answered.
"Officer Callahan." Douglas's voice.
Calm.
Controlled.
The same voice he had used at the station door.
"I want you to know something."
"Dr.
Sinclair, I'd advise you not to—"
"I'm not asking for your advice.
I'm telling you something." A pause.
"You think you've done something good today.
You think you've protected those girls.
But you've put them in a situation they're not equipped for.
Their mother is unstable.
My mother is seventy-one years old.
Whatever case you think you've built will take years in court.
And in the meantime, those children will be in a system that will do more damage to them than anything I ever did."
Terrence said nothing.
"I gave Delilah something to help her sleep," Douglas said.
"That's all it was.
She has always had difficulty sleeping.
Vivienne couldn't handle it.
She left.
I managed it the best way I knew how."
"The toxicologist's report says otherwise," Terrence said.
Silence.
"You'll have the opportunity to respond to the charges," Terrence said.
"Through your attorney.
In court.
That's how it works."
"You have no idea what I'm capable of," Douglas said.
"I have a reasonable idea," Terrence said.
"And so does the DA's office.
And so does the medical board.
And so does the state CPS system.
And so does your mother." He paused.
"Goodnight, Dr.
Sinclair."
He ended the call.
He sat down in the chair outside Delilah's room.
From inside, he heard Delilah's voice, clearer now than it had been all day.
"Mommy, will you stay?"
May you like
And Vivienne's answer, without hesitation:
"I'm not going anywhere."
