Page 95 of Exposé

"That's alright," Becca said, voice trembling.

"What's wrong?"

"It's been a long day. Do you remember yesterday when you called, I told you I'd call you back because there was someone in the clinic?"

I nodded despite her being on the phone. "Yeah, did they find anything?"

"I think I'm in trouble."

"What do you mean? What did they find?" Ice swam through my veins and into my thrumming heart. I pushed off the car and paced beside it. "You're worrying me."

"The autopsy came through last night before he came into the clinic. We weren't allowed to know the results until this morning, but... he had a heart attack."

"A heart attack?" I glanced around and lowered my voice. "But he was being monitored. Was he at risk for one?"

"No. That's it. He was completely stable." She breathed into the phone. "I mean, heart attackscancome out of nowhere, but we were watching his condition. He wasstable."

"What did they search the clinic for?"

"His medications."

"Okay, that seems pretty normal, right?" My heel scuffed against the ground as I turned, then stopped in my tracks.

Nate's broad chest took up my vision, his navy-blue slacks matching his jacket. My insides twirled like a ribbon flipping in the wind. I held up my finger and gave him a soft smile.

"What's not normal is the person who came to pick them up."

"Who picked it up?"

"A guy in a suit, Ava. He looked like a fed."

I arched a brow. "The feds came to pick up his medication?" Rolling my shoulders, I put some space between us, my hands itching to run down his chest—a stark contrast to the end of Sunday night.

"I'm being serious."

"Okay, okay. What did he look like?"

She huffed, and I dug my keys out of my pocket, tossing them towards him. He caught the jangling keys and opened the car door for me. I hesitated, and he rounded the vehicle, sinking into his seat.

"Older, salt-and-pepper hair..."

I sat down in my seat, pulled out my notepad from the glove box, and wrote it down. "Anything else?"

"Cops have a way about them. I've worked alongside them long enough to sniff them out. He wasn't a cop, Ava. He was something else."

"What if he was a lawyer? A doctor?"

"We have like five doctors contracted, and I know them all, and you'd be hard-pressed to find a lawyer doing dirty work."

Touché

"Anything else you can tell me?"

She hummed. "He was maybe in his fifties, thick build, not fat, super muscular with an uber-trimmed beard."

That sounds like a cop, but not a beat cop.

"Okay, he wasn't dumb enough to give you his name or card, was he?"

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