Chapter 3 - THE SECOND DOCTOR SAID I WASN’T DYING
The specialist in Nashville was Dr. Samuel Patel, hepatobiliary surgeon.
He examined Calvin’s scans for twenty minutes before entering the room.
“Mr. Buffington, I’m going to tell you what I know and what I don’t.”
Calvin liked him immediately.
No drama.
“The lesion could be malignant.”
Calvin nodded.
“But the pattern, your fever, inflammatory markers, and the surrounding tissue make a liver abscess highly plausible.”
Elias sat straighter.
“How plausible?”
“Enough that telling him he has three days to live would be irresponsible.”
Calvin closed his eyes.
“Dr. Gable didn’t exactly tell me that.”
“Good.”
“My wife heard ‘worst-case scenario’ and turned it into a funeral schedule.”
Patel frowned.
They performed additional imaging.
Blood cultures.
Drainage procedure.
Biopsy.
Twenty-four hours later, the working diagnosis changed dramatically.
Large hepatic abscess.
Severe bacterial infection.
No evidence of advanced liver cancer.
Biopsy pending to rule out anything hidden.
Calvin stared at the doctor.
“So I’m not dying this week.”
Patel smiled faintly.
“Statistically, all of us are dying eventually.”
Elias groaned.
“Doctor.”
Patel laughed.
“No. I do not expect Mr. Buffington to die in three days.”
Calvin cried.
He turned his face away.
Not because he feared anyone seeing.
Because relief hurt strangely.
He had spent almost forty-eight hours imagining his final hours.
Barbara.
His company.
His employees.
The old farm.
His regrets.
Then Amber’s smile.
Now suddenly there might be months.
Years.
Patel continued.
“You were still seriously ill. Untreated, this infection could have become life-threatening.”
Calvin nodded.
“But treatment should work.”
“Can I go home?”
“Absolutely not yet.”
Calvin sighed.
Then Paula called.
“We have a problem.”
“Which category?”
“Choose one.”
“Financial.”
“Correct.”
Amber had attempted to access the Buffington Family Investment Account.
Denied.
Then she contacted the company CFO, Martha Sloan, requesting an emergency board meeting because Calvin was “incapacitated and expected to die.”
Calvin’s jaw tightened.
“She works fast.”
“There’s more.”
Warren Langley had been seen entering Amber’s attorney’s office.
“And?”
“Your company’s largest undeveloped parcel—Westover Farm—was quietly appraised two months ago.”
Calvin went still.
Nobody had authority to order that appraisal without him.
Westover was 212 acres north of Atlanta.
The original nursery property.
Where Calvin and Barbara planted their first magnolias.
Current market value:
Over $40 million because developers wanted it.
Calvin had refused every offer.
“Who ordered the appraisal?”
“Ruby.”
“What?”
“Using an email account identified as your family office.”
Calvin shut his eyes.
Paula continued.
“The developer listed on the appraisal request is Langley Residential Partners.”
Warren.
There it was.
Amber was not merely waiting for inheritance.
She and Langley may have planned to acquire Westover from the estate or company after Calvin’s death.
Paula said:
“I’m calling in forensic accountants.”
Calvin laughed despite himself.
“You sound excited.”
“I’m a lawyer. Other people's bad paperwork is oxygen.”
Then Elias’s phone rang.
Ruby.
He showed Calvin.
“Answer.”
Elias did.
“Hello?”
“Where is he?”
“Who?”
“Don’t play stupid.”
“I’m old, Ruby. Stupid happens naturally.”
Calvin smiled.
Ruby snapped:
“Mom says you took Calvin somewhere.”
“He requested specialist care.”
“Where?”
“Why?”
“Because he is my stepfather.”
Interesting.
Not because I’m worried.
Because he is my stepfather.
Then Ruby said:
“And tell him the coupe isn’t working.”
Calvin's expression changed.
Elias put the call on speaker.
“What coupe?”
“You know exactly what car.”
Calvin gestured.
Elias asked:
“Why were you trying to drive Barbara’s car?”
Silence.
Then:
“It’s family property.”
Calvin whispered:
“No, it isn’t.”
Ruby heard him.
“You're there!”
Calvin took the phone.
“Why were you in my garage?”
Ruby’s confidence wavered.
“I was checking the car.”
“You took the keys.”
“You gave me permission before.”
“I never did.”
“You're sick. Maybe you forgot.”
There.
First attempt to use illness against memory.
Calvin remained calm.
“Ruby.”
“What?”
“What did you find in the glove compartment?”
Silence.
Long.
Then she hung up.
Calvin looked at Elias.
“You know what that means?”
“She found something.”
“Yes.”
“What?”
Calvin stared toward the window.
“I don’t remember.”
Which frightened him more than he wanted to admit.
Then Elias said:
“Barbara’s recorder.”
Calvin turned.
“The black one?”
“You never threw it away.”
Memory returned.
Restoration notes.
Garage conversations.
Barbara talking while they worked.
Could it still function?
Then Calvin remembered something else.
Three weeks earlier, Amber had driven the coupe without permission after claiming her SUV was blocked in.
She and Warren Langley had both attended a fundraiser that night.
If the recorder had been activated accidentally—or intentionally—
May you like
it might contain far more than engine notes.
---
