Read Online Lost Legacy (A Zoe Chambers Mystery Book 2) by Annette Dashofy - Free Book Online

man might come across as a folksy country doctor, without a court order, he’d flat out refused to comment on whether or not he ever treated either Engle, citing doctor-patient confidentiality laws. Pete hoped that Wilford was like virtually every other Vance Township resident over the age of sixty and chose the doctor who had been in the area for decades.
    The tirade never came.
    “Well, yeah. I do go to old Dr. McCarrell,” Engle said, his voice soft. “So did Jim before the illness.”
    “Then why did he switch to Dr. Weinstein?”
    “Because Weinstein’s younger, I suppose. Knows more about treating lung cancer.”
    “Did you go in to see the doctor with your brother?”
    “Why should I?” The vitriol was back in Wilford Engle’s voice. “Jim was a grown man. He didn’t need me holding his hand.”
    “Did you ever talk to the doctor? Maybe have a family meeting to determine a course of treatment?”
    “I’m telling you, there wasn’t no need for it. Jim might’ve been dying of lung cancer, but there wasn’t nothing wrong with his mind. He took care of his own affairs.”
    Pete glanced at Harry, who was staring across the room, his face a blank mask.
    “Why the blazes are you asking all these questions about Jim’s doctor?” Engle said.
    Pete forced his thoughts away from the cruel irony of James Engle’s sound mind and body—save for the suicide—juxtaposed against Harry’s Alzheimer’s-riddled brain. It was time to get to the crux of the matter. “Mr. Engle, who told you Jim had lung cancer?”
    “Jim, of course.” The old man frowned in puzzlement. “What difference does that make?”
    Pete tapped his pen against his lips. Either Wilford Engle was an Oscar-worthy actor, or he had no clue about the true state of his brother’s health. Pete’s instincts told him it was the latter. “Because the autopsy on your brother showed no signs of cancer. Lung or otherwise.”
    “What?” Spittle flew from the old man’s lips as he sputtered. “What are you talking about? Didn’t really have cancer? Of course he had cancer.”
    “Not according to the coroner. Your brother’s lungs were healthy.”
    “You’re a goddamn liar.” Engle trembled. His face flushed a vivid crimson.
    Harry snapped out of his daze and leapt to his feet. Damn, he was nimble for an old guy. “Pete’s as honest as the day is long.”
    Engle ignored him. “What kind of con are you trying to pull on me, you goddamned cop?”
    Harry clenched his fists and took a step toward Engle. “Who do you think you are, talking to my boy that way?”
    Pete pushed away from the wall and caught his father’s arm. “Cool it, Pop,” he whispered. 
    A muscle twitched under the skin of Engle’s jaw. “You think you’ll rattle me, and I’ll go to pieces? Confess to something I didn’t do? I know how you stinking cops operate. Well, it won’t work. ‘Cause I didn’t do nothing. My brother had cancer. He killed himself because he didn’t want to become a burden.”
    Even in the dim light, Pete spotted tears welling in the old man’s eyes. There was something else there, too. Engle shifted his gaze downward as his brows drew into a wrinkled peak. Then slowly, he appeared to cave in on himself.
    Pete released Harry and jumped to catch Engle before he hit the floor for the second time in two days. This time, Pete managed to keep his balance and not go down with him, even though sharp pains shot up his leg when he put full weight on his ankle.
    “Careful there,” Pete said, easing Engle onto the sofa.
    “Sorry,” he muttered, brushing Pete away. Engle rubbed the day-old stubble on his chin and stared at the floor in front of him. His breath came hard and loud, but when he spoke, his voice was barely a whisper. “Jim didn’t have cancer? But—why? I don’t understand.”
    Pete gave Engle a moment to process the reality of the situation before asking, “Can you think of any reason your brother would lie about being