Court Papers in the Locked Drawer of a Community Doctor
“That is absurd,” David said, his smooth voice cracking slightly at the edges. “Marcus is just a local boy we hired for yard work.”
“We have the bank statements showing weekly cash withdrawals of three hundred and fifty dollars, matching the exact amounts Marcus was paid,” Karen said, placing the bank logs next to the medical report. “And we have Marcus’s signed statement confirming he never saw Rachel show any signs of confusion.”
Judge Vance turned a page in the folder, her eyes resting on the photograph of the black leather-bound diary.
“Is this your handwriting, Dr. Miller?” Judge Vance asked, pointing to the printed image of the June fourteenth entry.
David looked at the page, his mouth opening slightly before he closed it again, his hand moving to his collar.
“It is a private journal,” David muttered, his eyes fixed on the desk.
“It is a record of a conspiracy to commit fraud,” Judge Vance said, her voice dropping an octave as she leaned forward. “You filed an emergency petition to strip your wife of her civil rights, using your medical credentials to bypass the standard notice requirements, all while negotiating a secret cash kickback for her inherited property.”