Page 17 of Bad Blood

I step out of the doorway, pulling the charts to my chest. “Not yet.”

There’s a scowl that’s quickly replaced with a laugh as he drops his head to stare at his feet and swipes a hand through his hair. “Toss them on my desk when you’re done going over them.”

I continue into the hallway and to my office across from his without another word. He’s interested. But why? I flip through the displaced papers and stick them in the appropriate patient’s files, glancing over my shoulder every couple of seconds to make sure I’m not being watched.

The filing cabinet squeals in protest as I pull out the top drawer, stuffing the three files in between the J and K tabs so it’s harder to find them. One more peek over my shoulder confirms I’m still alone, but my racing heart has me convinced otherwise. I push the drawer closed, dreading the final squeak, and return to my door, checking the hallway in both directions, finding no one.

This is ridiculous. No one’s going to come searching my office for normal files. Unless they aren’t normal.

“Hey.”

I jump what feels like ten feet in the air as I whirl around to find Kline leaning on the wall outside of his office.

“Holy shit.”

He chuckles. “You okay?”

“What?” I try to keep the annoyance out of my voice but fail miserably.

“Are you okay?” He enunciates each word.

“Fine. Late.” I check my watch. “But fine.”

“Can you put these in the records room basket?” He offers me an armload of more patient files, not waiting for me to agree. “You’re headed up front, right?”

“Sure.”

He tilts his head to the side. “You sure you’re okay? Lauren seems flustered after the meeting. You have any more questions?”

I give him a tight smile. “I’m good. Just busy.” I straighten the stethoscope around my neck and pull my office door closed behind me, double-checking to make sure it’s locked before I trail down the hall.

“You left your light on.”

“I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”

“Toss me your keys. I can grab it for you.” He holds up both hands, a little too eager to get into my office.

“It’s fine. Thanks.”

His face falls, and he shrugs. “Whatever.”

I turn and continue to walk backward until I meet the L-junction, and he’s no longer in sight. He’s trying too hard. All for some files I thought were clean. Maybe I’m wrong. As soon as I turn the corner, I pick up my pace and jog into the records room, dropping his files in the basket next to the door before I race back to my office.

The lock takes me a minute to finagle. I can’t count how many times I’ve asked maintenance to fix it.

Kline humming comes from behind his closed door. Dammit. Why won’t this freaking thing open?

I throw myself against the wood and wrench on the handle, the lock finally giving way. I rub my shoulder. That was a stupid idea. I close the door as quietly as possible and lock it from the inside. I need to take a closer look at the files to see why Kline is so interested.

A quick glance at the first file doesn’t give me anything. The clock on the wall continues to tick away. I don’t have much time. I flip through the next file and the next, gaze up at the clock. Dammit. My patients are waiting. The next file seems innocent enough until I turn to the last page, the surgery.

It’s there, plain as day.

I’m starting to doubt myself. How did I miss this?

My heart trips over its next beat.

What Kline’s doing—it’s been intentional.

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