Chapter 5: What Evelyn Did Next
Dr.
Patricia Reeves was sixty-one years old, small, and wore her gray hair pulled back without apology.
She had treated Frank for two years and four months.
She had been in the room when he stopped being able to drive.
She had been in the room when he decided to stop the second round of treatment.
She had been in the hallway outside his room the night he passed.
She took the stand without ceremony and answered Judge Bennett's questions in the same direct way she had always spoken to Frank — no softening, no performance, just the facts in the order they happened.
"Dr.
Reeves," the judge said, "you witnessed the letter submitted as Exhibit Four?"
"I did."
"Can you describe the circumstances?"
"Frank asked me to stay after his appointment on a Tuesday morning.
He said he wanted to write something down while he still had the energy to do it clearly.
He asked me to witness it so there would be no question later about whether he understood what he was writing."
"In your medical judgment, was Mr.
Carter competent at that time?"
"Completely.
His cognition was unaffected by his illness or his medication.
I noted it in his chart the same day."
Judge Bennett nodded.
"Thank you, Doctor."
Garrett stood for cross-examination.
He straightened his jacket, and I watched him decide, in real time, which version of his approach to use.
"Dr.
Reeves," he said, "you were Mrs.
Hayes's husband's physician.
You had an established relationship with the family."
"With Frank, yes."
"With Mrs.
Hayes as well?"
"I spoke with her at appointments when Frank asked her to be present.
That was his choice, not mine."
"Isn't it possible that your long relationship with this family has affected your objectivity in this matter?"
Dr.
Reeves looked at him without blinking.
"My objectivity is in the chart.
The cognitive assessments are standardized.
The scores are what they are.
You're welcome to challenge the methodology if you'd like, but you'd need a neurologist, not a cross-examination."
A sound moved through the courtroom.
Not laughter.
Something quieter — the sound of a room recognizing that a question had been answered more completely than the person who asked it intended.
Garrett tried once more.
"Dr.
Reeves, did Mrs.
Hayes ever ask you to witness documents on her behalf?"
"No."
"Did she ever discuss the lake house with you?"
"Frank discussed it with me.
He told me he was leaving it to his wife and that his mother would fight it.
He said he was sorry to put Patricia — that's what he called me — in the middle of it, but that he needed someone credible to stand behind what he'd written." She paused.
"I told him I would."
Garrett sat down.
Evelyn had been watching Dr.
Reeves the entire time.
When Garrett returned to his seat, she leaned toward him and spoke for nearly a minute.
He listened.
He shook his head twice.
She spoke again, lower this time, and whatever she said the second time made him stop shaking his head.
He stood back up.
"Your Honor, we'd like to introduce a new exhibit.
A document that came to our attention this morning."
Judge Bennett looked up.
"This morning."
"Yes, Your Honor."
"Mr.
Garrett, this hearing was filed three weeks ago.
What document came to your attention this morning that could not have been located in three weeks?"
"It's a financial record, Your Honor.
It shows a wire transfer from a joint account held by Frank and Patricia Hayes, made eighteen months before his passing, to an account registered to Dr.
Patricia Reeves."
The room shifted.
Anna's hand tightened around mine.
Dr.
Reeves did not move.
But her chin came up slightly, the way it does when someone has been waiting for a specific thing and has finally heard it.
"The amount," Garrett continued, "was forty thousand dollars."
Judge Bennett looked at me.
I looked back at him and kept my hands still on the table.
"Mrs.
Hayes," the judge said carefully, "are you aware of this transfer?"
"Yes, Your Honor," I said.
"I authorized it."
Evelyn's expression opened like a window.
This was what Garrett had told her.
This was what she had been holding back.
"Would you like to explain it?" the judge said.
"I would," I said.
"But I'd like Anna to step out first."
Anna turned to look at me.
"Mom—"
"Please," I said quietly.
She looked at me for a long moment.
Then she stood, smoothed her jacket, and walked to the back of the courtroom.
May you like
The door swung shut behind her.
I reached into my folder one more time.
