"How do you know the Bailey boy?" the governor's tone sharpened. Henrietta's head turned like she was watching a tennis match.
Ian's brow arched. "Martin Bailey is not a boy, Governor. He is the Chief Executive Officer of Chase Security International. More importantly, he loves your daughter. Before we turn this into a legal battle, why don't we do what Elizabeth wants before you try to shut him out of her life again?"
"You have no say in this matter," Talbot held his ground.
Ian ran a hand through his hair. “I'm going to explain something to Mrs.," Ian ducked his head to bring the woman's nametag into his view, "Krump. Governor Reed and his daughter have no relationship anymore."
"Enough! If Elizabeth doesn’t want me here, she can tell me. Until then, I oversee her care, and part of that is no Martin Bailey."
Henrietta hurried out of the conference room as she rushed to Elizabeth's side. "Dr. Hedges and Dr. Keys, there is a situation. Her father, the former governor, maintains authority over her care. I want to remind you both you are to respect his wishes concerning Beth's care as well as maintaining her privacy."
Steven Keys saw the political side of the nurse administrator. She and the hospital were afraid of Talbot Reed. "We are aware of the situation. Dr. Hedges and I are well aware of the legalities dictating patient privacy too. As for Beth, she's in grave condition."
"Are you sure, Dr. Keys?" Henrietta huffed.
"Which part? Elizabeth's condition or the legalities?" Steven hissed.
Chapter Fifteen
Julian opened Elizabeth's office with her keys. He and Martin were greeted by an odd musty odor. Martin stopped himself before he lifted a travel cup sitting on her desk. "Do you have gloves?"
Julian donned a pair from his pocket and opened the cup. Small brown particles floated on top of what appeared to be coffee. "Uck." He tipped the container enough for Martin to see.
"That must be the toxin. Those dots don't look like coffee grounds."
Julian scanned her office, then pulled a sheet of white paper off her printer, rolled it into a cone, and poured a tablespoon or so of the cup's contents into it. He tilted the funnel, allowing the mixture to separate. Small flakes stuck to the paper. Julian waved his hand over the concoction to take a whiff. "Familiar?"
Martin's nose turned up. "It stinks like the Tactical Operations Center. Coffee, sweat, and cigarettes. Oh, God, nicotine. Call the lab. I'll call Viper."
Martin spoke to Patrick and continued rifling through her drawers. He found a stack of files rubber-banded with her notes and the name and number for a Trudy Saperstein. The note said, “prisoner abuse.”
"We need to take these,” he said, scanning the note.
Her computer was password-protected. Martin checked under the keyboard and blotter before calling their tech department. It took them about ten minutes to break in. A file labeled Prisoner Abuse contained four letters addressed to the Silverton Department of Corrections. He opened the most recent one. "Jule, read this."
"Mon frère, she doesn't mince words." Julian hit print, then forwarded copies of each to his secure email.
Martin and Julian arrived at Elizabeth’s home to search for anything to stop Talbot Reed. The pair headed into her office. Opening the first file drawer, Julian checked every tab. The files were in perfect alignment and by alphabetical order—Acorn Landscaping, Bakery, Barclay Card. He kept going.Health Care Proxy.He opened the drawer and grinned; the file contained copies of her parents’ and a year’s worth of her own proxies. He read the most recent one.
I hereby designate Dr. Ruth Weiss, of 1208 Flanigan Oaks Drive, Rockville, MD 20852, 301-291-8493, as my attorney-in-fact (my "agent") and give to my agent the power to make healthcare decisions for me.
In the event the person I designate above is unable, unwilling, or unavailable to act as my agent, I hereby appoint Dr. Joyce A. Bey of 3944 Harrison Street, San Francisco, CA 94112, 415-582-2769, as my agent.
Julian reviewed the other forms. The names dated back since she was enrolled in medical school. All were signed, witnessed, and notarized. "Martin!"
"What?" Martin walked in holding her current diary.
"I found her proxy—not Reed." Julian searched through the files for any other important documents. "Mon frère, she left a letter with her final wishes as a codicil to her will. She wants to be buried beside Grace."
Martin's knees weakened, taking him to the floor. "I'm not doing that. No."
Julian sat on the floor beside him and wrapped a consoling arm around him. Five years earlier, Martin found him sitting in his wife's closet, an empty bottle of bourbon at his side and a full one in his hand. “She needs you now, Martin."
Nodding, Martin handed Julian her diary. "I couldn't find her mom's letter. She died January eighth."
Julian read to himself.
January 9th:
