Court Papers in the Locked Drawer of a Community Doctor
“The first binder is for the judge,” Karen said, snapping the rings shut with a loud pop. “It contains Marcus’s affidavit, the bank statements, the property valuation, and the photos of the diary. It proves fraud, conflict of interest, and medical malfeasance.”
“And the second?” I asked, looking at the identical black cover.
“The second is for David,” Karen said. She picked up a thick, heavy manila folder from the side table and laid it on top of the binder. “You will hand him this at the restaurant. It contains the duplicates of the evidence, along with the partition agreement for the cabin and the initial divorce petition.”
I reached out and touched the manila folder. The paper was thick and stiff, the metal clasp cold under my palm.
“He will try to tell me I am making a mistake,” I said, my voice barely more than a whisper. “He will use his doctor’s voice.”
“His doctor’s voice won’t work when he sees his own handwriting next to his bank statements,” Karen said, her eyes fixed on mine. “He is a coward, Rachel. Cowards only bully when they think no one is watching.”
