Doctor's Orders (Complete Series)

by Lilian Monroe

  “Are you okay? You seem flushed,” Dave asks. “What were you doing in there?”

  “I... umm... “ My voice trails off and I play with the keys in my hand. I hold them up and show them to Dave. “Just wanted to return these,” I explain.

  He nods as the two other men join us in front of Dr. Yates’ office door.

  “Emma,” Dr. Yates growls. I turn to see his beady eyes boring into me from under his bushy eyebrows.

  “Hi, Doctor. I was just looking for you. Here are your keys.” I extend my hand and hold them between two fingers. Dr. Yates raises his hand and grabs them, still staring at me curiously.

  “Are you okay Emma?”

  “I’m fine,” I say, trying to force a smile. “If you have a few minutes this afternoon I’d like to talk to you.”

  “No problem,” he says and nods, his eyes darting between Elliot and Dave. He wouldn’t dare bring anything up in front of them.

  I keep my hands clasped in front of me and nod, then turn to the reception area. I scurry down the hallway to my desk, feeling the papers in the front of my skirt burning my skin like hot coals. My heartbeat hasn’t slowed down at all.

  Dave is following me, and he stands next to me when I sit down. I look up at him and see his eyebrows knitting together. He looks concerned. He leans down and whispers.

  “Emma, what’s going on? You look so pale. Are you still sick? You should go home if you’re not feeling well.”

  I look up at Dave and wish I could tell him everything. He’s Val’s friend, he’s my friend, and he deserves to know. But I can’t implicate anyone else in this mess.

  I take a deep breath.

  “I’m fine, Dave. Really. Thank you for asking,” I tell him sincerely. He nods, and thankfully doesn’t ask any more questions.

  “If you need anything, just give me a shout, okay?”

  “Thanks,” I answer. He looks at me for another second and then turns and walks to his office. I let out a sigh. I glance all around me and make a move to take out the papers from my skirt. I freeze, hand over my waistband, and look around. I know this place is riddled with security cameras.

  Instead of taking them out, I grab my purse and head to the bathroom. Once inside the safety of a stall I pull the papers out and unfold them. I scan Melodie’s file, making sure all the information I need is there.

  It is. The Aesthetics Management Fee has been applied to her account more times than anyone else. There are so many procedures here, including rhinoplasty. I know she hasn’t gotten a nose job, not by Elliot. I could see that last night. I’m willing to bet most of these charges are probably bullshit.

  I carefully fold the papers and put them in my purse. I zip it up and then reconsider. Anyone could find them. Instead, I carefully rip the seam between the lining and the purse, stuffing the pages in there. I fold the lining back to try to hide the raw edge. It might pass a cursory glance but if anyone looks through my bag, they’ll find the papers.

  I take a deep breath and head out of the stall. I flush the toilet and wash my hands, just in case someone is listening. My paranoia is extreme, I know it is, but that’s what will get me out of this mess and get Elliot and Gracie out of harm’s way.

  60

  Elliot

  I can’t sit still. I need to know what’s going on. Emma is planning something. She might be in danger. If only she would tell me I could help her. The look on her face when we walked back was pure terror. She must have just walked out of Stuart’s office. Why was she in there?

  I can’t stay in this room. My office is like a prison right now. I check my schedule. I have thirty minutes before my next patient. I need to get out of here.

  I pull my door open and head out. I head down the hallway and wonder if Emma will be at her desk. Just as I’m about to round the corner, I see her coming out of the bathroom. I slow down until she sees me, and she hurries to catch up.

  “Emma, tell me what is going on,” I tell her in a low whisper. She glances down the hallway at Stuart’s office.

  “I can’t,” she says. “Please, please just trust me.”

  She brushes past me and goes to her desk. She scribbles on a paper and folds it in half before sliding it to the edge of her desk. She glances of her shoulder at me and then to the note.

  Understanding what she wants, I walk by her desk and brush my hand over the note, grabbing it subtly and slipping it into my pocket. I can feel it burning next to my leg but I resist the temptation of taking it out right away. I walk down to the cafe on the corner and order myself a coffee, sitting down in a plush chair by the window. I wait until my coffee is in front of me before pulling it out and opening it up, glancing around me before I do.

  When they come, don’t panic. Tell the truth. Everything.

  xox Emma

  I look up and sigh. I was expecting something less... Cryptic. Tell the truth? When? Confess? To who? What does she even think the truth is? Does she know that I have nothing to do with that embezzlement, or whatever it was that Stuart and Melodie are up to? Who is coming?

  She must know I’m innocent, or else she wouldn’t be tipping me off.

  I sip my coffee and try to calm myself. It’s not working. My heart is racing and I can feel a cold hand wrap itself around my spine. I read the note again, and again. Tell the truth.

  If she turns me in, she’s not only ruining my life but she’s ruining Gracie’s.

  Tell the truth.

  She wants me to say that Dr. Yates set me up. Does she know about my debts? About what started this whole thing? About the gambling, and the losing?

  Tell the truth.

  I sit back in my chair and watch the world go by through the window. People rushing by with their heads down, mothers pushing strollers, couples walking arm in arm happily down the street.

  I watch everyone and realize the real question that I need to ask myself. All the other questions are just noise, clouding my judgement. There’s only one important thing right now:

  Do I trust Emma?

  Do I trust her with my life, and with Gracie’s? I can do what she asks, or I can guard myself like I have been for the past seven years. I feel like my chest is being ripped in two different directions. Everything I’ve done for Gracie since she was a baby, my entire philosophy since Chloe died is being called into question.

  Do I trust her?

  The image of Emma leaning down and shaking Gracie’s hand flashes in my mind. Her eyes were sparkling when she met my daughter, and I could tell she genuinely wanted to get to know her. Then I close my eyes and Gracie’s face draws itself on the back of my eyelids. It’s her face when I told her Emma wasn’t coming over for dinner. It was pure disappointment and it ripped my heart to pieces.

  Gracie trusts her. Gracie cares about her, and she doesn’t even know her. She knew I cared about Emma the day after I’d met her at the office, before she even knew Emma existed.

  I think of the relief that flooded through me when I saw Emma at her desk this morning, when I knew she was safe. It was the feeling I get when I know Gracie is safe. Somehow, Emma has made her way into my heart and into Gracie’s in a matter of weeks, and I don’t want her to be anywhere else.

  If I’m going to get out of this with Gracie, I need to trust Emma.

  I need to tell the truth.

  61

  Emma

  I wish I had more time. I wish I could talk to Elliot, really talk to him, but it’s too risky. I can’t be seen with him or else they’ll know something is suspicious. I need to make it look like I’m breaking ties with him, and that means no conversations, no hugs, no contact. At least until this thing blows up.

  I put my hand on my purse for the thousandth time, feeling for the incriminating files hidden in the lining. I hate leaving my purse unattended but I know I have to when I go talk to Dr. Yates. It would be too strange to carry it everywhere. My desk drawer slides open and I drop my purse inside before standing up.

  I straighten my clothes and throw
my shoulders back, lifting my chin. One deep breath and I’m ready for the next step.

  Within moments I’m at Dr. Yates’ door again. This time it’s open, and he looks up when I step into view. He motions to close the door behind me.

  “Dr. Yates. I was told that I had the day to turn Elliot in for his crimes.” Dr. Yates stays silent, so I continue. “I alerted the authorities last night and they’re planning on coming in today, at 3pm.”

  Dr. Yates nods. I can tell his mind is buzzing, wondering if I’m telling the truth.

  “Can I please ask you to make sure Elliot is in his office at that time?”

  “Of course, Emma.”

  “Thank you.” I turn to leave when Dr. Yates calls my name.

  “Emma!” He pauses, waiting for me to turn back around. “I’m sorry you had to go through that, with Melodie. You’re making the right decision.”

  “I know I am, Doctor.” I pause, and he looks at me questioning. “Dr. Yates, why are you pinning this on Elliot?”

  “He’s guilty, Emma,” Dr. Yates responds. I nod and try to hide my disappointment. Not wanting to spend an extra instant with him than I have to, I turn around and walk out. I’m so tightly wound up that I can hardly walk straight. My heart is hammering and I feel lightheaded. I pull out my phone and stop the recording. I didn’t get it. I’d promised the officer I’d get a recorded confession out of him, but he must have known or he’s too smart to confess to me.

  I’ve told the police the truth, but I don’t know if they’ll believe me without Dr. Yates’ confession. The despair starts gripping me, the horror of what I’ve done. I may have just endangered Elliot and Gracie. I may have made a horrible mistake. If this falls apart, the deal is off and my own life will be in jeopardy. What’s my life now anyway? In a few hours I’ll know if I’ve just ruined the life of the man I love.

  The man I love.

  I love him.

  The thought hits me like a freight train, and I grab onto the wall for support. I could have just turned him in, not risked anything but that was never even an option. I can’t imagine my life without him and Gracie in it. The past few weeks have been the happiest I’ve ever had. I’ve never felt as complete as I do when I’m with him and his daughter.

  I love him.

  My throat starts constricting as I fight the tears. I don’t know if I’ve just ruined his life and taken his daughter away from him or if I’ve helped take him out from under Dr. Yates’ thumb.

  I stumble to the bathroom and lock myself in, bursting into tears. It’s too much. The stress, the anxiety, the fact that I can’t even talk to the man I love. It’s killing me that I can’t even look at him like I want to, I can’t touch him even though all day he’s been a few feet away from me.

  If he doesn’t trust me, if he doesn’t tell the truth then this whole thing will blow up in my face. I need his corroborating testimony and any information he’ll be able to give to the police in order for this to happen. I need him to trust me, and I can’t even tell him why.

  If he tries to deny anything or protect Dr. Yates for whatever reason, then my story won’t hold up. I haven’t even been able to hear his side of the story, or if he thinks Dr. Yates is on his side. Elliot got in a fight with Yates but that doesn’t prove anything. All I know is that Melodie and Dr. Yates are trying to frame him, but I have no idea if he knows that. The anxiety of not knowing anything is gnawing at my stomach, and all I can do is trust my instincts and keep going.

  62

  Elliot

  Stuart walks into my office with a dirty smirk on his face and I resist the urge to retch. He makes me sick. He drops himself down on a chair and looks over at me, still smiling. I raise an eyebrow. I can’t stand these games he plays.

  “Elliot. Just the man I wanted to see.”

  “What do you want, Stuart.”

  He chuckles. I could just grab his head and smash him against the wall, but I’m not going to. I need to trust Emma.

  “I just wanted to check in, see how you were doing.”

  “Stuart, we’ve worked together for almost ten years and not once have you wanted to ‘check in’ and ‘see how I was doing’,” I respond, making air quotes on either side of my head at his words.

  He laughs again. “You seem to be in an unusually good mood,” I say darkly.

  “Today is a good day,” he says. “Well, not great, but as good as it could be given the circumstances.” His eyes narrow and I know he’s about to say something. I shift in my seat and grab my cell phone, looking at it and pretending to read something.

  I glance up at him, “Sorry, it’s my daughter,” I say, tapping on the screen a few times. I place the phone face down on my desk and look back at Stuart. “Go ahead. Tell me why today is a good day. I can tell you’re dying to.”

  Stuart smiles. He’s gloating.

  “Today is a good day, because today is the day that you get taken away.”

  My heart speeds up.

  “What are you talking about,” I growl.

  “Today, my friend, today is the day that they lock you up for a very long time. And that poor daughter of yours will be left out in the cold.”

  “Don’t talk about my daughter.” I can feel the heat rising to my head instantly. Just hearing the mention of her in his voice makes my blood boil. He waves his hand. I take a deep breath. “You know I had nothing to do with this,” I tell him.

  “I know. It’s unfortunate, but someone has to take the fall. When that receptionist started snooping around, she got too close to the truth. They’ll follow the evidence and go straight to you. So here we are. The handsome, mysterious doctor who keeps to himself turned out to be a fraud and an embezzler.”

  “You’re a snake, you know that Stuart? You’re going to blame me for something that you did. You'll ruin my life and my daughter’s.”

  Stuart shrugs. “That’s life.”

  My whole body is tingling and I don’t know if it’s adrenaline or rage. I look at him, eyes burning.

  “I just have one more question, Stuart. Why? Why did you do this?”

  “It’s not why, Elliot. It’s why not. Melodie came to me with a proposition to make us both rich, and I took it. It would be stupid not to. Framing you was the easiest thing I ever did. You practically asked me to do it.” He checks his watch. “Anyway, your time is up.”

  He stands up and straightens his white doctor’s coat and opens my door. He glances down the hallway and then back at me, holding the door open and stepping out of the way.

  “He’s in here, boys,” he calls out down the hallway. My heart leaps to my throat and I stand up, grabbing my phone and putting it in my pocket. I’m cornered, like a caged animal. There’s nowhere for me to go. I can feel the hot blood pumping in my veins.

  Then they start streaming in. I’m surrounded by armed officers.

  “Elliot Davis?” the one in charge asks. I gulp.

  “That’s me.”

  “We’re going to need you at the police station. Grab him, boys.”

  I close my eyes and brace myself for the hands on me. This is it. This is the end. Emma told me they would come for me, and Stuart confirmed it. But the officer’s hands don’t touch me. Instead, I hear the man’s voice again.

  “Stuart Yates, you’re under arrest for embezzlement, fraud, and money laundering.” I open my eyes and see Stuart surrounded by police officers, hands behind his back, pinned to the wall as they handcuff him.

  Stuart starts protesting, yelling and struggling against the officer. The officer continues. “You have the right to remain silent and refuse to answer questions. Anything you say might be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to consult an attorney before speaking to the police and to have an attorney present during questioning now or in the future. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you…”

  I’m in shock. My eyes drift down the hallway and I see Emma standing near the entrance. Our eyes lock and I feel my heart swell
in my chest. She did this. She did this for me, and for Gracie.

  63

  Emma

  I don’t even have the chance to get near Elliot. They whisk him and me away in separate vehicles, bringing us to the station independently. I ride with the lead detective in his unmarked car, and Elliot is in a different vehicle with another officer.

  The next few hours are a flurry of activity. They separate Elliot and me into different interrogation rooms, with Dr. Yates taken to yet another one. The detective asks me a thousand questions and gets me to confirm and re-confirm my story. They just keep asking me question after question after question. Soon I don’t know who’s under investigation anymore.

  I ask them for my purse and I pull out the papers from the lining of my purse and hand them to the detective.

  “What’s this?” he asks.

  “It’s what you asked for. The proof of her connection. The information I gave you last night is proven by this document. She was laundering money through the practice. I found her file in Dr. Yates’ office. I expect he was keeping it there to protect himself.”

  The detective smiles at me and shakes my hand. “We’ve been trying to nail this woman for months. Your testimony and this paperwork will be the nail in the coffin. We had the money in her accounts, but we couldn’t tell where it was coming from. This is the missing link.”

  He stands up and opens the door for me.

  “I think we have everything we need for tonight. Thank you for your help, Miss Thompson.”

  I get up to leave, and just as I walk out the door, I hear her sickly sweet voice. I watch as two detectives escort her past me, down to the room I just exited. Her eyes shoot daggers at me, lips curled up into an ugly snarl.