Page 16 of Bad Blood

I fly back in my seat. “Warned me? You knew?” My mouth drops open. I can’t believe the bullshit I’m hearing.

“Nelson passed during surgery.” He narrows his brow and rakes a hand through his already messy hair. “Of course, I knew. Malpractice lawsuits are inevitable when there’s a death.”

My anger toward him starts to dissipate. He has a relevant point. “What about Banks?”

“Crotchety old bitch.” He rocks back in his chair, both hands on the armrests on either side of him as he fights to keep the smile from his lips.

A shocked noise slips from my mouth. He’s right. She was crotchety, but still. “That’s no excuse.”

“It was a couple of complaints that got ignored. Luca is aware. The misdiagnosis isn’t as straightforward as Robert’s trying to portray.” He sits up straight in his chair, grabbing the files he set in front of me. “Wait, you think I did this on purpose?”

“It crossed my mind,” I reply with a single shoulder shrug.

“I can’t believe you think so low of me. After everything?”

He has a point. Although he has damaging information to hold over me, he’s never once threatened to use it against me. It’s my guilty conscience that usually gets in the way and has me doing stupid things.

He yawns, and I fight the need to do the same. The likelihood he got as little, if not less, sleep as I did is an actual possibility. He runs a hand over the stubble on his chin as I examine him closer. I’m pretty sure he’s wearing the scrubs he had on yesterday. “Is that ketchup?”

Kline drops his chin to his chest and pulls out the hem of his green scrub top. He chuckles. “Guilty as charged.”

He knows his charm doesn’t work on me, but it’s hard to stay angry at the good-looking bastard when he smiles like that.

“You need to fix this. Take responsibility for what happened.” I scoop the charts and the loose papers off his desk, settling them into the crook of my arm.

“I’ve already talked to Luca. He knows you’re not involved. We’re sorting out the details.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“I’m not following you.” He covers another yawn with the back of his hand.

“If Luca knows, why the meeting?”

“You know they have to cover their asses. Don’t take it personally.”

He’s right, but something feels off. “That doesn’t explain what I found,” I say, waving the files overhead.

Nothing about his demeanor changes. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think my claims didn’t affect him. It’s the small tells I’ve learned over the years of working with him. The sniffle, the way he rubs his eyes—I’m on to something, and he’s trying to brush it off like it’s no big deal.

“Can I see those charts again?” He reaches for them, but I keep them out of his grasp. “Who are they?”

“Cases from the last six months.”

He blows out an exasperated breath. “A little more info?”

“The surgeries we worked together.”

He juts his lips out in concentration—another tell. “Nothing stands out.”

Fine. He wants to play it like that? I’ll just keep finding more files. I don’t know what he’s up to, but I’m damn sure going to clear my name of it.

“Never mind.” I reach for the door handle when he scoots his seat back and stands.

“Can I review those?” He steps from behind his desk and closes in on me.

I have no other option. Yes, I worked the surgeries on these patients with him. No, there’s nothing incriminating inside them. I took them to the meeting to show we work together all the time and that the two cases they have are anomalies.

And I want Kline to think I know more than I do. His sudden interest piques my suspicions. What is he trying to cover up?

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