Chapter 5: The Man Who Called
I didn't answer Marcus Webb's call that night.
I didn't answer it the next morning either.
I set my phone face-down on the kitchen counter while I made coffee and listened to the message he'd left instead.
His voice was careful.
Measured.
The voice of a man who had rehearsed what he was going to say and was still not sure it was enough.
*"Dr.
Abernathy.
My name is Marcus Webb.
I'm — I'm the father of Lauren Barrett's son.
I know you don't know me.
I know this call is strange.
But I think there are things you need to hear that Lauren won't tell you herself.
I'm not calling to cause more trouble.
I'm calling because I think you're the only person in this situation who actually deserves the truth.
Please call me back."*
I listened to it twice.
Then I called Douglas.
"Marcus Webb left me a voicemail," I said.
A pause.
"What did he say?"
I read it to him from memory.
"Don't call him back without me present," Douglas said.
"Can you do a call this afternoon?
Three o'clock?"
"I have a patient at three-thirty."
"Three o'clock sharp.
I'll be on the line."
Marcus Webb answered on the first ring.
He was thirty-four.
He'd been in a relationship with Lauren for almost two years before she ended things abruptly — the same month, I noted silently, that Brandon had begun transferring money into her holding company.
He had not known about the child until four months ago, when Lauren's sister had contacted him.
"Why did her sister reach out?" Douglas asked.
"Because Lauren told her the baby was Brandon's.
And her sister didn't believe it.
She'd met me.
She knew the timeline." Marcus paused.
"She said Lauren was in over her head with something.
That she was scared.
She wouldn't say scared of what."
I looked at Douglas across the desk.
"Mr.
Webb," Douglas said.
"Did Lauren ever mention a company called Meridian Horizon?"
Silence.
"She mentioned something once," Marcus said slowly.
"We were arguing — this was near the end, before she broke things off.
She said she had made a decision that she couldn't undo.
That she was locked into something.
I asked her what she meant and she said —" He stopped.
"She said that Brandon had made sure she couldn't walk away."
"Those were her words?"
"Yes."
"Did she say how?"
"No.
She shut down after that.
Two weeks later she told me it was over."
I leaned forward.
"Mr.
Webb.
Do you know if Lauren kept any records?
Emails, messages, anything from that period?"
"I don't know what she kept.
But I know she was afraid of something.
And I know that whatever Brandon had on her, it was enough to make her go along with a lie for over a year." He paused again.
"She's not a bad person.
I need you to know that.
She made terrible choices.
But I don't think she made them freely."
The call ended ten minutes later.
Douglas and I sat with it for a moment.
"He thinks Brandon coerced her," I said.
"That's what he thinks.
Whether it's true is another question."
"If it's true, she's a witness, not just a participant."
"Yes." Douglas folded his hands on the desk.
"Which is why Brandon's attorney called forty minutes after the hospital.
He's not just worried about the civil filing.
He's worried about what Lauren knows and whether she's going to say it."
I thought about Lauren's face in the waiting room.
Not guilty.
Not proud.
Afraid.
"She's been protecting him," I said.
"Or protecting herself from him.
Possibly both."
"Can we talk to her?"
"I've been trying for six weeks.
She won't return calls."
I picked up my pen.
Set it down.
Picked it up again.
"I think she'll talk to me," I said.
Douglas looked at me carefully.
"Gwen.
She betrayed your marriage and helped move your money into a shell company."
"I know what she did."
"I'm not sure a conversation with her right now is —"
"She dropped that bottle the moment she saw you walk off that elevator," I said.
"She wasn't afraid of the paternity result.
She already knew what it said.
She was afraid of what else was in that folder." I looked at him.
"She's been waiting for someone to give her a way out.
I think I might be the only person she'd take it from."
Douglas was quiet for a long moment.
"If you speak to her," he said finally, "don't go alone.
And don't promise her anything I can't deliver."
"I won't promise her anything at all," I said.
"I'm just going to ask her one question."
May you like
"Which is?"
"Whether she's tired."
