Chapter 5 - What Was in Dad’s Medicine
I walked into the office.
“Dad, where are your pills?”
Marjorie turned.
“What?”
“His medication.”
She stepped between me and the desk.
“This has gone far enough.”
“Where are they?”
“Natalie, stop.”
Dad pointed toward the kitchen.
“Cabinet by the sink.”
I moved.
Marjorie grabbed my wrist.
I looked down at her hand.
Then at her.
She let go.
The kitchen cabinet held seven prescription bottles.
Blood pressure.
Cholesterol.
Arthritis.
A sleep medication.
And one bottle with no pharmacy label.
Just a white sticker.
TAKE ONE AT NIGHT.
I held it up.
“What is this?”
Dad frowned.
“I don’t know.”
Marjorie answered quickly.
“Vitamins.”
I opened the bottle.
Small white tablets.
No imprint I recognized.
I put the cap back on.
“Then you won’t mind if I have them tested.”
She lunged for the bottle.
I stepped back.
Dad saw it.
So did I.
Her face changed immediately.
“I just don’t want you throwing away his medication.”
“You said they’re vitamins.”
She said nothing.
Dad whispered, “Marjorie.”
Her shoulders dropped.
“They help him sleep.”
“Who prescribed them?”
“Our doctor.”
“What doctor?”
She hesitated.
Dad repeated the question.
“What doctor?”
Marjorie’s phone rang.
She glanced at the screen.
Dale.
She declined the call.
Then the front door opened.
Nobody had knocked.
I moved into the hallway.
Dale Mercer stood inside the house.
He looked furious.
“You people need to stop.”
I stared at him.
“How did you get in?”
He held up a key.
Dad looked confused.
“You have a key to my house?”
Dale froze.
Marjorie closed her eyes.
Dad’s voice hardened.
“Why do you have a key to my house?”
Dale put it on the entry table.
“You gave it to me months ago.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Robert—”
“No.”
Dad stepped toward him.
“I didn’t.”
Dale looked at Marjorie.
That was mistake number two.
Dad saw it.
“So she gave it to you.”
“Robert,” Marjorie said.
Dad pointed toward the door.
“Get out.”
Dale didn’t move.
“This is bigger than you understand.”
“Get out of my house.”
Dale turned to me.
“You think you’re protecting him?”
“I think you should leave.”
“You’re going to destroy him.”
“How?”
He laughed once.
Cold.
“Ask your father what happens to this foundation if the fraud becomes public.”
Dad went quiet.
Dale continued.
“Every donor disappears. Every veteran gets embarrassed. Every newspaper in Georgia runs his name beside the word fraud.”
“You stole from him,” I said.
“You don’t know that.”
“I know enough.”
“No, Commander. You know just enough to ruin an old man before you learn the truth.”
Dad moved closer.
“What truth?”
Dale looked directly at him.
“You signed every transfer.”
“I did not.”
“Yes, you did.”
“You forged my name.”
“No.”
Dale reached into his jacket.
This time I tensed.
He pulled out an envelope.
Inside were photocopies of checks.
Dad’s signature was on every one.
May you like
And this time, I knew immediately why he looked so scared.
The signatures were real.
