Page 83 of Bad Blood

“And the security?” Kline asks, drawing Luca out of his rambling.

“Wear your badges.” A couple of sniggers fill the room. Luca glances around, tsking under his breath.

Kline grabs my arm and raises it in the air. I yank free and swat his hand. “Knock it off.”

“Yes, Dr. Fields?” It’s hard to ignore the annoyance in Luca’s voice.

“I think what Dr. Matthews,” I enunciate his name through clenched teeth, “means is, are we going to be stopped every time we go in and out of the garage for the foreseeable future, or is there a glimmer of hope that they’ll let us return to normal soon?”

“It’s a precautionary measure.” Luca’s voice cracks on the last word. He’s getting agitated. His cheeks heat, and his blink is on repeat.

Tara pipes in, “Foreseeable future, check.”

Small conversations take place around the table. Luca has lost hold of the meeting. He pushes his seat back and stands, grabbing his legal pad and pen. He taps the pen on the table like a gavel. “One more thing.”

No one pays him any attention.

“I said,” he clears his throat, “one more thing—HR wanted me to mention the malpractice lawsuit.” He glances at Kline out of the corner of his eye, but his gaze bounces away before I can be sure I saw what I think I did.

He takes a sheet of paper from under his legal pad and reads it verbatim. “The investigation into the allegations regarding the misconduct and delayed diagnosis leading to wrongful death because of negligence . . .” His eyes do it again, but this time, I’m watching for it, and they land, without question, on Kline. “Due to Provider X failing to offer reasonable aftercare . . .” Blah, blah, blah. “Provider X is under comprehensive investigation . . . and the depositions will start in four weeks.”

I stop listening, appreciating how he avoids Provider X’s real name, although everyone knows Kline’s the defendant he’s referencing. I can’t be the only one who observes Luca’s blatant lack of subtlety.

But I think I am.

Kline stares off into space, acting none-the-wiser. It’s an excellent tactic to take the heat off himself, even though it’s obvious he’s trying too hard.

Tara fiddles with her laptop. I bet she’s playing solitaire.

A shock of envy courses through me, and I shoot her a covetous glance. I should have brought my laptop. Tara makes eye contact and yawns before rolling her eyes and gazing back at her computer screen. It’s a little obvious for the new girl, but I like it.

The rest of the crew is staring off into space or pretending to pay attention.

“Also, we have a few fresh faces I’d like to introduce. I think you’ve all met Dr. Tara N. Perez.” He holds a hand in her direction.

She wiggles her fingers in greeting.

“And we have a new interoffice delivery secretary, Ava D. Sinclair. She drives around delivering paperwork, lab data, etcetera. You may have seen her around. She’s here or between hospitals in one of our white delivery cars most of the day.” He glances over the top of his glasses. “She is not in attendance today. We also have Frank Peters and Shiloh Willis, our newest security additions. Please make them feel welcome.”

The two of them wave from the back of the room.

“Any other questions?”

Everyone knows to stay quiet.

Do not engage—I repeat, do not engage.

Luca tucks the legal pad under his arm and slides his pen into the front pocket of his white dress shirt. He leaves the malpractice paper on the table.

It seems deliberate.

I glance at Kline out of the corner of my eye. He’s staring at the paper too.

“If that’s it, remember: badges, be vigilant, cooperate.” He glances at the paper now but leaves it lying there. “Have a good afternoon.”

The minute he steps out the door, everyone starts talking.

My eyes stay glued to Kline.

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