Page 110 of Bad Blood

“Yes. Of course I did.”

He blows out an audible puff of air. “Thank god. The charts are gone. I searched through all my things. They’re gone.”

“You didn’t have your secretary put them somewhere? Or give them to Robert?”

“No. They were here, and now they’re not. Can you bring me a copy?”

“Of course.”

“You’re a lifesaver.”

I race to my desk and yank open the drawer where I stuff the USB when I’m not carrying it on me. I pull out the small box of paper clips and dump them on the desktop.

But it’s not here.

I swear I put it here before I left earlier. I cradle the phone between my ear and shoulder as I turn to the filing cabinet and pull open the third drawer before shifting the files forward. I look at the back right corner, where I keep a container of file folder tabs. The contents spill across my desk, but there’s still no USB.

“Um, hold on a second.” My thoughts have been all over the place lately, but there’s only one other place to look. I clear the distance to the door and double-check the hallway before locking it. I squat behind the door to where the doorstop pokes out of the wall beside a vent. I pull at the top of the frame and yank until it comes free, the screws dropping a loose, chalky material as I pull it from the wall.

It’s here.

My heart resumes its normal rhythm.

I need to keep better track of which hiding place I put it in at the end of each day.

I clutch it against my chest and stand, racing back to the desk before I plop into the seat and fire up my laptop.

“Are you downstairs?”

“Yes.”

What’s with the blocked number?

“You’re here late.”

“I’m going over my statement for the deposition.”

“Can I meet you in your office?”

“I’m not in HR.” That explains it.

My thoughts run wild as the screens change before my login prompt appears. Why is Luca prepping for the deposition? And what’s he doing looking for the files? Why is there a sudden need to ensure I have copies? What if Luca is doing all of this and setting up Kline because he’s making the hospital look bad?

I pinch my eyes closed and try to keep my thoughts from running rampant. This is absurd. Luca has nothing to do with it.

But that’s what I thought about Kline.

Shit.

There’s no way. Luca would never jeopardize the hospital.

Or me.

I brace the phone again as I type in my password and stick the USB in the port on the side. “Do you need me to bring it now?”

There’s a long pause of hesitation before Luca clears his throat. “I can come up.”

“Is there something specific you’re looking for? I can print it out.” Once I get the files open, I’m going to make a second set on another USB. I initially emailed them to myself, but the idea of letting this USB out of my sight puts me on edge.

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