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“I do, and I appreciate you guys and everyone who’s stepped up for us so much. But at the end of the day, it’s me here alone with what will soon be three kids. I just never imagined my life looking like this.”
Sam wanted to wail at the sheer injustice of it all. An injured back had led to a pain pill addiction that Spencer had been forced to feed illegally after doctors cut him off. He’d gotten pills laced with fentanyl that had ended his life suddenly and shockingly for everyone who’d loved him. Sam would never forget that horrifying morning at Camp David, when Angela had rushed into their cabin, screaming that her husband wouldn’t wake up. She could barely stand to think about it, even if she’d have to one day testify about it in court. That day was a long way off. Hopefully, she’d feel more ready to fight for justice on behalf of Spencer, Angela and their family by then.
“We’d give anything for this not to have happened to you,” Tracy said tearfully.
“I know, and I’m so, so thankful for you two and everything you’ve done for me and the kids. I’ll be all right—and so will they. It’s just going to take some time.”
“We’re here for whatever you need, whenever you need it,” Sam said. “If you want me to come at bedtime for Jack, I’ll be here. If you want to send them to us for a weekend at the White House, we’re down for that.”
“They’d love to do that. They talk all the time about how much fun it was there.”
“Then let’s do it soon. My kids would love it. We’ll have Abby and Ethan, too,” she said of Tracy’s younger kids. “Cousin-palooza.”
“Thanks, guys,” Angela said. “Thank you for everything.”
“Anything for you, kid,” Tracy said as Sam nodded.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Belinda Cane lived in a Georgetown penthouse that looked out over the campus of Georgetown University and the Potomac River. It was one of the best views Freddie had ever encountered in his years on the job.
She led him and Gonzo to a sitting area by the windows and offered them refreshments.
“We’re good, thanks,” Gonzo said.
She had long blonde hair, big blue eyes and flawless pale skin that reminded him of Nicole Kidman, which was an odd thought. But the comparison was fitting.
“Is this about Dr. Blanchet?” she asked. “I heard about what happened to him and his family. It’s such a tragedy.”
“Yes, it is,” Freddie said. “That’s why we’re here.” He kept having to remind himself that Sam wasn’t there to take the lead. He had to do that. “We understand you and several other women had filed suit against him for inappropriate behavior?”
“Yes.”
“What can you tell us about that?”
“It’s very difficult to talk about, as you can imagine.”
“We’re sorry to put you through it,” Freddie said, “but we’re trying to fill in some blanks about what might’ve led to six people being found dead in their home.”
“I understand, and I’m so, so sorry about his family. I couldn’t sleep last night. I was sick over it. That our lawsuit might’ve driven him to do such a thing… That’s a hard thing to live with, you know?”
“We don’t know for sure that’s what happened,” Gonzo said.
“Oh, well…”
“Now, about your lawsuit. Can you share the details with us?”
She took a sip from a glass of ice water and seemed to be trying to find the words. “He was my doctor for several years as I struggled with infertility,” she said haltingly. “It’s a terribly difficult journey, and he was a source of such amazing support and encouragement. My husband used to joke that I had a crush on him, and he wasn’t wrong. I relied on him to get me through the hellish tests, treatments and procedures. He was so good to me. Until… One time, about a year ago, I was under light sedation, and… I thought I was dreaming when I saw him remove his penis from his pants and ejaculate on me.”
Holy shit,Freddie thought as he took notes. “Did you confront him about it?”
“Not at first, because I wasn’t sure it really happened or if I dreamed it. I was so confused. Had I imagined that because of my husband saying I had a crush on him? I was a mess over it, and I didn’t tell anyone for several weeks. My husband thought it was the hormones messing with my emotions, so he didn’t think much of it. I’d been an emotional basket case throughout the entire process, so that was nothing new.
“I decided I had to talk to Dr. Blanchet about it before I lost my mind wondering if it had really happened. So I made an appointment and went to his office. While I was in the waiting room, I sat next to another woman named Leslie. She was shaking so hard, I asked if she was all right. She burst into tears, and the story just exploded out of her, exactly the same thing that’d happened to me. I took her by the hand and led her out of the office. We went to get coffee, and I told her my story.”
Belinda reached for a tissue on the coffee table and wiped tears from her eyes. “It was such a relief to know I wasn’t crazy, but also revolting to realize it had actually happened. We decided to post a generic inquiry to a local infertility support group, asking patients of Dr. Blanchet to get in touch with us. We spoke to several women, and two others reported similar incidents. That’s when we called the MPD.”
“An investigation was conducted,” Freddie said.
