Chapter 4: The Call Lucy Didn't Expect
Lucy was grading papers at her kitchen table in Portland when her phone rang at 9:47 in the evening.
She didn't recognize the number.
She almost didn't answer.
"Is this Lucy Callahan?"
"It is.
Who's calling?"
"My name is Dr.
Gabriel Mena.
I'm your father's attending physician in Denver."
Lucy set her red pen down.
"Is he alright?
Did something happen?"
"He's stable," Gabriel said.
"I'm not calling about his condition.
I'm calling because I need to ask you something directly, and I need you to answer me honestly."
"Okay." She pulled her cardigan tighter without realizing it.
"Have you been contacted recently about signing any documents related to your father's estate?
A power of attorney, a property transfer, anything of that nature?"
The silence stretched three full seconds.
"Beatriz called me last week," Lucy said slowly.
"She said Dad's legal team needed me to countersign some paperwork.
Something about updating the estate plan while he's incapacitated.
She said it was routine."
"Did you sign anything?"
"She's sending the documents this week.
I was going to look them over Thursday."
Gabriel exhaled.
"Lucy, do not sign anything.
Not one page.
Not until you've spoken to an independent attorney — someone with no connection to your father's current legal team."
"Why?
What's going on?"
"I can't tell you everything tonight.
But I need you to trust me when I say that what's being sent to you is not routine, and it is not in your father's interest.
Or yours."
"Dr.
Mena." Her voice had gone very still.
"Is my father in danger?"
A pause that lasted one second too long.
"Come to Denver," he said.
"Come Thursday.
Tell no one — not Beatriz, not your uncle Alvin.
Tell them you're coming Friday if they ask.
But come Thursday."
The line went quiet.
Lucy looked at the stack of papers in front of her — thirty-two student essays she'd promised to return by morning.
She pushed them to the side.
"I'll be on the first flight," she said.
She landed at Denver International at 6:15 Thursday morning.
Gabriel met her in the short-term parking structure, away from the terminal cameras.
He was in street clothes, not his white coat.
He looked like he hadn't slept.
"Thank you for coming," he said.
"Tell me everything," Lucy said.
"Right now."
He did.
He stood between two parked cars in a concrete parking structure and told her about the envelope, the photograph, the shell company, the forged documents with her name.
He told her about the brake lines.
He told her about Beatriz and Alvin.
Lucy listened without interrupting.
Her face did not change expression.
When he finished, she was quiet for a moment.
"How long have you known?" she asked.
"Six weeks."
"And my father?
How long has he known?"
"He's heard everything from his bed for five months.
He couldn't speak.
He couldn't move.
He could only listen."
Lucy turned away.
She pressed one hand flat against the side of a parked car and stood there with her back to Gabriel.
He gave her thirty seconds.
"The federal agent comes to the house this morning," he said.
"Her name is Renata Cruz.
She's been building the case for three weeks.
The plan is to let Beatriz proceed with the Friday signing — but Cruz will be in the house when it happens."
Lucy turned back around.
Her eyes were dry.
Her jaw was set.
"I want to see my father," she said.
"That's why I brought you here first.
Before the house.
Before Beatriz sees you." Gabriel reached into his coat and pulled out two folded pieces of paper.
"He wrote these.
It took him a long time."
Lucy unfolded the first one.
She looked at the jagged, struggling letters — her name, written by a hand that had forgotten how to hold a pen.
Her breath caught once.
Just once.
She folded it back carefully and put both papers in her coat pocket.
"Take me to him," she said.
They were twenty minutes from the house when Gabriel's phone buzzed on the dashboard.
He glanced at the screen and his expression shifted.
"What?" Lucy asked.
He handed her the phone.
It was a text from Renata Cruz.
*Change of plans.
Beatriz moved the signing to this morning.
May you like
Notary arrives at 10.
We have four hours.*
