Chapter 9: The Morning He Came Back With a Lawyer
The lawyer's name was Preston Hale.
He arrived at 8:20 a.m.
in a dark suit and carrying a leather briefcase that looked like it had been chosen to communicate something.
He introduced himself to the hospital administrator on duty, presented the custody order, and asked to speak with the CPS worker and the responding officer together.
Diane and Terrence met him in the family consultation room.
"My client is prepared to cooperate fully with any legitimate medical inquiry," Preston said.
"He has documentation for every prescription.
He has a diagnosis on file — anxiety-related sleep disorder, documented at Delilah's last wellness visit.
He has the prescribing notes, the dosage rationale, and the follow-up observations.
Everything is in order."
"Who documented the diagnosis?" Diane asked.
"Dr.
Sinclair, as the treating physician."
"He diagnosed his own daughter and prescribed medication to her under his own credential."
"He is a licensed physician.
He is her father.
He is legally permitted—"
"He filled the prescriptions at a pharmacy across town with no connection to his practice," Terrence said.
"Not the pharmacy attached to his clinic.
Not the pharmacy on file with her school records.
A different location entirely."
Preston paused.
"Physicians use multiple pharmacies."
"The first prescription was eight months ago," Diane said.
"Charlotte's records at school show no documented medical condition.
Her teacher has never been notified of any sleep disorder.
Her grandmother — who was the girls' primary secondary caregiver until six weeks ago — was never told about any diagnosis."
"My client's medical decisions for his children are not subject to approval by extended family members."
"No," Diane said.
"They're subject to review by the state medical board, which received a formal report at 11:47 last night.
And by the county DA's office, which received our documentation at 7:15 this morning."
Preston's hand moved slightly on the briefcase handle.
"The custody order—" he began.
"Is being reviewed by a family court judge," Terrence said.
"Not Judge Pruitt.
A different judge.
The duty attorney flagged a conflict of interest based on Dr.
Sinclair's prior expert witness testimony in Judge Pruitt's court."
Preston set the briefcase on the table.
He opened it.
He took out a folder and placed it in front of them.
"My client's full medical documentation," he said.
"I'd encourage you to review it carefully before this goes any further."
Diane opened the folder.
She read the first page.
Then she turned to the second.
Then she stopped.
"This wellness visit documentation," she said.
"It's dated fourteen months ago."
"Correct."
"The diagnosis is dated fourteen months ago."
"Correct."
"But the first prescription wasn't filled until eight months ago." She looked up.
"There's a six-month gap between the diagnosis and the first prescription.
Why?"
Preston said nothing.
"If Delilah had an anxiety-related sleep disorder serious enough to require medication, why did your client wait six months after diagnosing her to prescribe anything?"
"Medical decisions involve—"
"And why did the prescription dosage increase three times in eight months with no corresponding follow-up documentation?" Diane set the folder down.
"Mr.
Hale, I've been doing this for twenty-two years.
The documentation your client prepared is detailed.
It's thorough.
It looks correct at a glance." She tapped the folder.
"But the timeline doesn't hold."
Preston looked at the folder.
Then at Diane.
Then at Terrence.
"My client," he said carefully, "is prepared to discuss any inconsistencies."
"He'll have the opportunity," Terrence said.
"The DA's duty attorney is requesting a formal interview this afternoon."
Preston closed the briefcase.
"I'll need to speak with my client before any interview takes place."
"Of course," Diane said.
Preston stood.
He buttoned his jacket.
He looked at the folder still on the table.
"Leave it," Diane said.
"We'll need it."
Preston walked out.
Terrence looked at Diane.
"The timeline," he said.
"He created the diagnosis retroactively," she said.
"Or he created it in advance and waited to use it.
Either way, the documentation was built to withstand a quick look.
It wasn't built to withstand someone who read it slowly."
"Charlotte read it slowly," Terrence said.
"She was six years old and she read it slowly.
She just used dates instead of words."
Diane looked at the folder for a moment.
"I want to check something," she said.
"The wellness visit.
Fourteen months ago.
I want to know which doctor signed off on that visit."
She picked up her phone.
It took eleven minutes to get the answer.
The wellness visit fourteen months ago had been conducted by Dr.
Douglas Sinclair himself.
He had examined his own daughter, written his own diagnosis, and signed his own documentation.
There had been no second physician.
No independent assessment.
May you like
No outside review.
He had built the entire medical record himself.
