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Parker looked down at his desk and picked up a random paperclip, flipping it around in his fingers. “I was paid a lot of money to write that report,” he told Taylor, his gaze still averted.
“So someone waves money at you and you go against the code of ethics you swore to uphold as a doctor?” she questioned darkly.
“They also asked me to do this to help someone, someone who, if questionable circumstances surrounding Cedric Preston’s death were made public, would be at a disadvantage. Someone who would struggle and fail and be publicly strung up because of it.”
“And who was that?”
“You, Mrs. Preston-Fletcher,” Parker said looking up at her now. “I was asked to change the report for you.”
Taylor remained still, and waited.
“See I am not the beast you want to believe me to be. I am offered money a lot. You wouldn’t believe how many countries I could buy if I accepted all the bribes that came my way,” he said. “But I do this job to be the voice for those whose voice was taken too soon. So I said no when I was asked to change this report. I said it was for the police to sort out. But when your name was brought into it, when they said that you now had to take over this mess and try to salvage it, I felt bad for you,” he said, his voice full of pity, something Taylor wasn’t expecting. “I have two daughters, just a little younger than you, Mrs. Preston-Fletcher, and I would do anything to make things easier for them. So I agreed, and I refused the money. But the next day my daughters’ tuition and my mortgage were paid in full, and I had an offshore account in my name. I didn’t ask for any of that.”
Taylor maintained her deadpan expression. “And who would ask you to do that and pay you for it?”
“It was a man. I never met him. There were just phone calls. I could never trace the number. He only identified himself as a Preston Corp representative.”
* * *
Taylor walkedout of Dr. Parker’s office to a side door that led outside and leaned against the side of the brick building to catch her breath.
When Henry had told her she needed to go in and basically threaten Dr. Parker into giving her information, Taylor had felt sick. She had turned to Derrick for support, for him to find this just as crazy an idea as she did, and instead he had agreed with Henry and she was certain she was in a nightmare.
“If we go in with you, Tay, he is going to clam up,” Derrick said. “You can do this. You can command an entire company. You for sure can get this knucklehead to ‘fess up to why he changed it and what he found.”
“I can not go into some office and threaten a perfect stranger,” Taylor had insisted.
But she had.
And now that it was done, she still could not believe that she had done it, that she had done it so well, or what she had found out. It all made her feel sick.
“Well, that was informative,” Derrick said, coming out from a nearby alley with Henry to where Taylor was propped against the building. “Are you okay?” he asked, cupping her face.
Taylor shook her head, wide eyed. “Someone killed him, Derrick. Someone really killed him. This was not just a random overdose.” She turned her attention to Henry. “Do you think the same person who killed him is now coming after me?”
“I think we may need to figure out who killed Cedric first,” Henry said. “It sounds like Cedric could have been on someone’s bad side.”
“Yeah,” Taylor agreed, “seems as though he pissed off a someone considerably. And I really need to find out who requested the autopsy change. I’m going to call Todd and Charlie.”
“No, you cannot mention this to anyone,” Henry cut in. “There are holes in the system, Taylor, and I don’t know how far up or down the chain of command they go or how deep they are.”
“Henry, you don’t think Cedric’s murder is related to Preston Corp, do you?” Taylor asked. She had assumed something more sinister, something not so close.
Henry hesitated. “You really can’t rule anything out,” he finally said.
His hesitation and answer did not have a good effect on Taylor’s state of mind.
Twelve
Derrick could feelthe whirling of the thoughts blowing around in Taylor’s mind as they sat in the dining room waiting to eat. Marty usually joined them, but it was later than they usually ate, and tonight she was working on her final sketches to submit. So it was just Taylor and Derrick and silence.
Taylor had barely said a word on the drive from Dr. Parker’s office. Once home, she hadn’t moved to get out of the car.
“Tay?” Derrick had asked, hoping to make her aware of where they were. Instead, she had jumped and gasped like those horror movie chicks. “Babe,” Derrick soothed, a little shaken himself from her response. “It’s okay, we are home,” he said, talking to her soft and slow, like a wounded animal.
Taylor looked around like she had awakened from a coma, startled and wide eyed, then finally slid across the seat to the door which was promptly opened by Fletcher mansion staff. Once inside Derrick had turned to his wife, still tunneled deep inside her own thoughts.
“Want to talk about it?” he had asked her, but Taylor just smiled a little and shook her head looking away towards the stairs.