Chapter 7 The Family Doctor

I never made it to the basement.

The moment I stepped out of Ash's room, I heard Caleb's footsteps downstairs. Heavy. Deliberate. Like he was pacing.

Waiting.

I crawled back into bed and lay there until dawn, staring at the ceiling. Evelyn's voice echoing in my head.

The fire wasn't the first time.

What did that mean? And who was Clara?

The next morning, I waited until Caleb left for work. Then I called the medical center.

"I need to speak with Dr. Harrison," I told the receptionist.

"Regarding?"

I took a breath. "I'm Riley Thorne. I was... I was Evelyn Thorne's sister-in-law. I have some questions about her treatment."

A pause. "Hold please."

The hold music was soft jazz that made my skin crawl. Everything felt wrong today. The sunlight looked too bright. The air tasted metallic.

"Mrs. Thorne?" A man's voice, older, cautious.

"Yes."

"This is Dr. Harrison. I... I was sorry to hear about Evelyn. Terrible tragedy."

Something in his tone made me sit up straighter. "Dr. Harrison, I was hoping we could meet. I have some questions about her final days."

Silence stretched between us.

"Mrs. Thorne, I'm not sure what you're looking for, but

"Please. It's important."

Another long pause. "Can you come in this afternoon? Say, around four? After my regular appointments."

"Yes. Thank you."

"Mrs. Thorne?"

"Yes?"

His voice dropped to almost a whisper. "Come alone."

Dr. Harrison's office was in an old brick building downtown. The waiting room smelled like disinfectant and fear. Medical magazines from five years ago sat scattered on worn tables.

At exactly four o'clock, a nurse led me down a narrow hallway to his office.

Dr. Harrison was older than I'd expected. Maybe seventy, with silver hair and deep lines around his eyes. But it was his hands I noticed first. They were shaking.

"Mrs. Thorne. Please, sit."

I sat across from his desk. The chair was uncomfortable, the kind that made you want to leave quickly.

"Thank you for seeing me, Dr. Harrison."

He nodded, but didn't quite meet my eyes. "You said you had questions about Evelyn."

"Yes. About her final days. Her... state of mind."

His hands fidgeted with a pen. Click. Click. Click.

"Mrs. Thorne, I'm not sure what you're hoping to learn. Evelyn was... she was struggling. Mentally. The stress of her marriage, her financial situation..."

"What kind of struggling?

"Anxiety. Depression. She complained of not sleeping, hearing things. She was convinced someone was watching her."

My pulse quickened. "Watching her?

"Paranoid delusions are common in severe depression. She thought her husband was... well, she had some very disturbing fantasies about him."

"What kind of fantasies?

Dr. Harrison set down his pen and really looked at me for the first time. His eyes were watery, nervous.

"Mrs. Thorne, why are you here? Really?

"Because I don't think my sister in law killed herself."

He went very still.

"That's a serious accusation."

"Is it an accusation? Or a question?

We stared at each other across the desk. The clock on the wall ticked loudly.

"Dr. Harrison, did Evelyn ever mention the name Clara to you?

The color drained from his face.

"I... where did you hear that name?

"So you know who Clara is?

His hands were shaking worse now. He reached for a glass of water on his desk and took a sip.

"Clara was... Clara was my patient too."

"Was?"

"She died. Three years ago."

"How?"

"House fire."

The room spun around me. "House fire?"

"Yes. Just like... just like Evelyn."

I gripped the arms of my chair. "Dr. Harrison, what exactly are you telling me?"

He stood up abruptly and walked to the window. His back was to me when he spoke.

"Clara was married to a man named David. David Thompson. She came to me with the same complaints as Evelyn. Anxiety. Insomnia. Paranoid thoughts about her husband."

"And?

"And two weeks later, she was dead."

My mouth went dry. "What happened to David?"

"He moved away. Right after the funeral. Said he couldn't bear to stay in the same town."

"Where did he move?

Dr. Harrison turned back to me. His face was pale and drawn.

"Here, Mrs. Thorne. He moved here."

The room tilted. "Here?

"He changed his name. Started over. No one knew about Clara. About the fire."

I could barely get the words out. "What... what name did he change it to?"

Dr. Harrison's voice was barely a whisper.

"Caleb. Caleb Thorne."

I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Couldn't process what he was telling me.

"You're saying my husband... that Caleb..."

"I'm saying I've seen this before. The same pattern. The same ending.

I stood up so fast the chair fell over. "Why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you report this?"

"Report what? That two women died in house fires? That their husbands were grieving widowers? I had no proof. Just... suspicions."

"Suspicions that could have saved Evelyn's life!"

"You think I don't know that?" His voice cracked. "You think I don't lie awake every night thinking about it?"

I paced to the window and back. My mind was racing.

"There have to be records. Medical files. Something."

"I kept them. Clara's files. Even after I was supposed to destroy them."

"Where?

"In my safe at home. I kept thinking... someday someone would need to know the truth."

"Can I see them?

He hesitated. "Mrs. Thorne, if what I suspect is true, then you're in tremendous danger."

"I know."

"Do you? Because Clara thought she was being careful too. She thought she could handle it."

"What happened to her?

Dr. Harrison sat back down heavily. Suddenly he looked every one of his seventy years.

"She came to see me three days before she died. She was terrified. Said David had been... different. Angry. Threatening. She wanted me to document it. In case something happened to her."

"Did you?

"Yes. Every word."

"And then?

"And then she burned to death in her own bedroom. Just like Evelyn."

I felt sick. "Dr. Harrison, I need those files."

"Mrs. Thorne

"I need them tonight."

He stared at me for a long moment. Then he nodded slowly.

"I'll have them ready. But Mrs. Thorne?

"Yes?

"Don't go home tonight. Don't go anywhere alone. If I'm right about your husband...

"What?

His voice was barely audible.

"Then you're not his second victim. You're his third."

The words hit me like a physical blow.

"Third?

Dr. Harrison opened his desk drawer and pulled out an old newspaper clipping. His hands trembled as he handed it to me.

The headline read: LOCAL WOMAN DIES IN HOUSE FIRE

The photo showed a young woman with dark hair and kind eyes.

The name below it made my blood freeze.

*Sarah Mitchell. Survived by her husband, Daniel Thompson.

"Daniel Thompson," I whispered.

"Also known as David Thompson. Also known as..."

"Caleb Thorne."

Dr. Harrison nodded gravely. "Mrs. Thorne, your husband has been killing wives for at least six years."

I stared at the newspaper clipping, my vision blurring.

"And now he's got me."

"Yes. But unlike Sarah and Clara, you know what he is."

"Do I? Because right now I don't know anything anymore."

Dr. Harrison leaned forward. "Mrs. Thorne, there's something else. Something I haven't told you."

My heart was already pounding so hard I thought it might burst. "What?"

"Clara didn't just leave medical records. She left a video. Hidden in my office. She wanted someone to find it if anything happened to her."

"A video of what?

"Proof. Of what David what Caleb really is."

"Where is it?

"In my safe. With the files."

I stood up on shaking legs. "I'll meet you at your house tonight."

"Mrs. Thorne, wait."

I turned back.

"There's something else Clara said. In that final appointment."

"What?

His voice dropped to a whisper.

"She said she'd found out about Sarah. She said David had shown her a photo of his 'first wife.' But here's the thing, Mrs. Thorne."

"What?

"According to the photo, Sarah wasn't his first wife either."

The room went dead silent except for the ticking clock.

"How many? I whispered.

Dr. Harrison's eyes were full of pain and regret.

"I don't know, Mrs. Thorne. But I'm afraid we're about to find out."