Page 192 of Bad Blood

How did I let it get this far? Why did I let it happen? I should have known he would never confess what he’s done, and he would try to turn it all on me.

I pull my gaze from the window and drop my head, my shoulders shuddering as the last crumbs of adrenaline seep from my body. There should be relief, but all I feel is shame.

How could I not know? After all this time? How could I let Kline hold my case over me and never think of looking into it?

The sound of the knocker reverberates through the house, and I jump, my hand shooting to my chest. Of course, Dax is right on time.

“Coming.” I grab the towel next to the sink and wipe under my eyes as I race down the hall. I count to ten, steal myself, and pull open the door.

His eyes flit over my face. “Oh, my god, are you okay?” I’m such an asshole.” He directs me to the sofa, pulling me down as he takes a seat. “I should have come earlier.”

“I’m fine.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” He traces his thumb across my jaw, his eyes land on the fingerprint-shaped bruises on my neck and collarbone, and the muscles in his jaw constrict.

“Not in particular.”

“This is shit timing, but I need to ask you something.” His voice lowers as he hangs his head, at war with himself over something he can’t put into words. “Please don’t hate me.”

I re-situate myself so I’m facing him on the sofa and give him a reassuring smile.

He finally gathers his courage and asks, “You have the right guy? You’re sure it’s Dr. Matthews?”

“Yes.” A sigh slips from between my lips. But I’m still missing something. Kline said I was wrong. That I messed everything up. But what does he mean?

“I hate admitting this, but he had me fooled. Despite your warnings, I couldn’t fathom him being the person you described.”

“I get it. I didn’t know what he was doing for years.” I lean across the sofa and grab my purse, pulling out the ball cap, my calendar, the stethoscope, Hudson’s card, a few pens, and my phone. I need to show him everything. No more hiding things. I’ve seen where that got me, and it’s not worth it anymore.

“I’m sorry for doubting you. After I saw him attacking you, I knew, but I had to hear it from your mouth.” He watches as I drop my scattered belongings onto the cushion, and he reaches for the hat. “Where’d you get this? I’ve been looking for it for weeks.”

“Lauren said it was on the counter the other day. I thought it was yours. It looked familiar.”

“Huh. I must have left it during one of Liam’s appointments.”

“It’s been in my purse for a few days. I thought you’d want it back.” I push my stuff out of the way and scoot closer as I offer him my phone, trying to redirect his attention as he pulls the hat onto his head and adjusts it until it’s comfortable.

I tap on the photos app and open the pictures I took before I left the hospital. The scattered polaroids. My crushed laptop. The torn list. And the caduceus.

He scrolls through the pictures, his face paling the farther he gets through them.

“I should have told you what I was planning, but I didn’t want you trying to stop me. This”—I point to the photo of the gold pin lying under the table—“is what tipped me off. Each victim had one. And there was one here too.” I point at the photo of the caduceus on the floor next to the door in the doctors’ lounge.

“But you all have the pins. I’ve seen them. There’s no chance it’s yours or his, and it got knocked off?”

I shake my head and grab my stethoscope, showing him mine is where it always is.

“You think he left it there on purpose?”

“I told Hudson, but he thinks Kline would be an idiot to be so obvious. I’m not convinced. I don’t know how else it could have gotten there.”

“There were a lot of people in that room. Anyone could have dropped it.”

“It’s just too much of a coincidence.”

“What’s this?” He points at the last photo.

“Kline didn’t know I was on to him until I confirmed it by taking what he planted.”

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