Chapter 4 - THE WRONG NOTES
Meline hit the study door with both hands.
“Garrison!”
The melody inside stopped.
A second later, something heavy struck the floor.
One of the security men forced the lock.
Meline entered.
Garrison lay beside his desk.
Conscious.
Barely.
Emmett stood near the windows.
His face was pale.
“What did you do?” Meline demanded.
Emmett stared at her.
“Excuse me?”
“The music.”
“What music?”
“I heard someone playing.”
“There is no piano in here.”
Meline stopped.
He was right.
The sound had come from hidden speakers.
A small device sat on the bookshelf.
Garrison looked toward it.
“Turn it off.”
Meline crossed the room and unplugged it.
The sound vanished.
Emmett stepped forward.
“He was having another episode.”
“Why were you playing that?”
“I wasn’t.”
“Then who?”
“Ask him.”
Garrison forced himself onto one elbow.
“Emmett.”
“What?”
“Leave.”
“You need a doctor.”
“Leave.”
“I am trying to keep you alive.”
Garrison’s eyes hardened.
“You have been trying very hard to keep me something.”
Emmett froze.
Then slowly walked out.
Meline knelt beside Garrison.
“Did you take anything?”
He looked at her.
“My normal pills.”
“When?”
“Eleven.”
“Who gave them to you?”
Silence.
“Garrison.”
“Bennett.”
“Bennett was drugged downstairs.”
His expression changed.
“What?”
“Someone knocked him out.”
Garrison tried to stand.
Meline pushed herself upright first.
“Slow.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re on the floor.”
“Temporary.”
“That’s not a medical term.”
He almost smiled.
Then winced.
An independent physician arrived within forty minutes.
Dr. Amelia Foster.
Neurologist.
No connection to the Vance family.
No connection to Emmett.
No connection to any previous specialist.
She reviewed Garrison’s medications.
Then frowned.
“This combination is aggressive.”
“What does that mean?” Meline asked.
Dr. Foster glanced at Garrison.
“Several of these drugs can increase confusion, rebound anxiety, sensory distortion, and dependence if dosages are manipulated.”
“Can they cause ringing?”
“Tinnitus, auditory disturbances, yes.”
Garrison became very still.
“For three years?”
“If medication changes repeatedly.”
Meline handed her the bottle from storage.
Dr. Foster studied it.
“Where did you get this?”
Meline explained.
The doctor compared the label to Garrison’s current prescription.
“This dosage is substantially higher.”
Garrison looked at her.
“Higher than what?”
“Than I would expect based on your history.”
“Expected isn’t proof.”
“No.”
She nodded approvingly.
“We need pharmacy records.”
Meline took out Lydia’s letter.
“Lydia wrote that an original prescription had been altered.”
Dr. Foster read it.
“When?”
“Three years ago.”
The doctor looked at Garrison.
“Who was your prescriber then?”
“Dr. Samuel Calder.”
“Still treating you?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Garrison frowned.
“He retired.”
Emmett had told him that.
Bennett, now awake and furious about being drugged, interrupted from the doorway.
“Sir.”
“What?”
“I checked.”
Everyone turned.
“Dr. Calder did not retire.”
Garrison stared.
“Where is he?”
“Evanston.”
Silence.
“Why did I believe he retired?”
Bennett looked uncomfortable.
“Mr. Kerr told us.”
Garrison closed his eyes.
Emmett again.
Dr. Foster spoke carefully.
“Do not make conclusions yet.”
Garrison looked at her.
“Everyone keeps telling me not to make conclusions while the same name appears in every problem.”
“Then verify it.”
Meline liked her immediately.
They went to see Calder that afternoon.
Garrison insisted.
Dr. Foster came.
Meline came because Lydia’s letter connected Norah to Calder’s prescription.
Garrison’s security remained outside the clinic.
Calder looked stunned when Garrison entered.
“Mr. Vance.”
“You’re not retired.”
“No.”
“Why was I told you were?”
Calder’s face changed.
“I wondered when you’d ask.”
Garrison stopped.
“You knew?”
“I knew Emmett terminated me as your physician.”
“He said you retired.”
“I received a nondisclosure settlement.”
“From who?”
“Vance Holdings.”
“Signed by?”
“Sloan Whitaker.”
Now Sloan.
Garrison’s family attorney.
The circle widened.
Calder opened an old paper file.
“I kept this.”
“Why?”
“Because something was wrong.”
He handed over Garrison’s original prescription history.
Much lower doses.
Fewer medications.
Calder continued.
“After Lydia died, Emmett demanded an increase in sedatives.”
“Why?”
“He said you were unstable.”
“Was I?”
“You were grieving.”
“That is not an answer.”
“You had insomnia. Panic. Rage.”
Calder looked at him.
“But not psychosis.”
Garrison’s jaw tightened.
“And the sound?”
“You first reported tinnitus two weeks before Lydia died.”
Meline stared.
“Before?”
“Yes.”
Lydia’s letters had mentioned it.
“Did you think medication caused it?”
“I suspected an interaction.”
“With what?”
Calder turned pages.
“Your blood work showed unusually high levels of one benzodiazepine.”
“I took what you prescribed.”
“That’s the problem.”
Calder looked directly at Garrison.
“I didn’t prescribe that amount.”
Silence.
Meline felt cold.
“Someone was giving him more.”
Calder nodded.
“I confronted Emmett.”
Garrison’s face changed.
“And?”
“He told me you were self-medicating.”
“I wasn’t.”
“I know that now.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I tried.”
“When?”
“The week Lydia died.”
Garrison stared.
“Lydia came instead.”
Calder looked confused.
“What?”
“She came to me.”
“No.”
Calder shook his head.
“Lydia came to me.”
Everyone froze.
“When?” Garrison asked.
“Four days before she died.”
The exact window.
“What did she want?”
“She wanted copies of your prescription records.”
“Did you give them?”
“Yes.”
“Anything else?”
Calder hesitated.
“She asked me whether someone could intentionally create auditory episodes by altering dosage.”
Meline’s heartbeat changed.
“What did you say?”
“That medication alone might not explain every symptom.”
“What else?”
“Sound conditioning.”
Garrison frowned.
“Meaning?”
Calder leaned back.
“If a person experiences repeated distress while exposed to a certain tone or audio pattern, the brain can begin reacting automatically when similar sound appears.”
Meline thought of the device in the study.
The wrong version of the melody.
“Someone could train a response?”
“In crude terms.”
“Using music?”
“Using tones.”
Garrison’s face went pale.
“The noise I hear always begins the same.”
Calder nodded slowly.
“Three tones?”
Garrison stared.
“Yes.”
Meline thought of The Harbor Piece.
Its first three notes.
But reversed.
Wrong.
“What if the tones were hidden in something?” she asked.
“Speaker system. Alarm. Phone notification.”
Garrison’s expression changed.
He looked at Bennett.
“The house intercom.”
Bennett froze.
“What?”
“Every night before the episodes.”
He looked at Meline.
“The security system makes three tones at midnight.”
Bennett shook his head.
“Not originally.”
“What?”
“The tone changed three years ago.”
“Who ordered it?”
Bennett looked sick.
“Emmett.”
They returned to the mansion.
The old security files confirmed it.
Three years earlier, six days before Lydia died, Emmett approved a new alert tone.
Three descending notes.
Almost identical to the beginning of Norah’s melody played backward.
The altered medications made Garrison more vulnerable.
The tones triggered distress.
His grief completed the prison.
Someone had built his illness around him.
But why?
Sloan arrived before evening.
Garrison confronted him privately.
Meline waited outside with Bennett.
Twenty minutes later, Sloan emerged.
Face gray.
Garrison followed.
“Sloan says he signed Calder’s settlement because Emmett told him I wanted it.”
Sloan looked ashamed.
“I had written authorization.”
“Forged?” Meline asked.
Sloan nodded.
“I believe so.”
Garrison’s eyes darkened.
“By whom?”
“We’re verifying.”
Then Bennett’s phone rang.
He answered.
His face changed.
“Riverbend Memory Care.”
Meline froze.
“My mother?”
Bennett handed her the phone.
The nurse sounded frightened.
“Ms. Rhodes?”
“Yes.”
“Someone came asking to see Norah.”
“Who?”
“He said he was family.”
“My mother has no family besides me.”
“We refused entry.”
“Good.”
“He became angry.”
Meline’s hands shook.
“Is she safe?”
“Yes.”
“For now.”
“What does that mean?”
A pause.
“The man left a message.”
Meline closed her eyes.
“What?”
The nurse read it.
“TELL MELINE TO STOP PLAYING.”
Garrison’s face became ice.
Meline ended the call.
“I’m moving her.”
Garrison nodded.
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“I can arrange—”
“No.”
He stopped.
Meline forced herself to think.
“I’ll choose a facility.”
“I’ll pay for private security.”
“No.”
“Meline.”
“No.”
He took one breath.
Then corrected himself.
“Would you accept security if you choose the company?”
She stared.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
She almost smiled despite everything.
Then Garrison’s phone buzzed.
A message.
From Emmett.
One photograph.
Norah Rhodes sitting beside Lydia at the Vance piano.
Under it:
ASK HER WHAT LYDIA FOUND BENEATH THE KEYBOARD.
Garrison looked at Meline.
“What is beneath the keyboard?”
“I don’t know.”
They ran to the music room.
The piano had been searched.
Keys removed.
Panels opened.
But Meline noticed one screw different from the others.
Newer.
She removed it.
Behind the keyboard sat a thin envelope wrapped in plastic.
Garrison’s hands shook as he opened it.
Inside was a flash drive.
And one note in Lydia’s handwriting.
Garrison—
If you are hearing the noise, Emmett already started.
Do not trust the doctors he chooses.
Do not trust the story they tell you about me.
And if I do not get the chance to say this—
I was not leaving you that night.
I was coming back.
Garrison stopped breathing.
Meline watched his face collapse.
For three years, he had believed Lydia drove away because he dismissed her.
Now, suddenly, the final ninety seconds meant something else.
Lydia had not been running from him.
May you like
She had been trying to expose someone.
And somebody had made sure she never returned.
