I did it. I stopped the bleeding.
The room bursts into applause. I did it—I saved this young woman’s life.
I finish up the splenectomy, which goes relatively smoothly after that. I close up Kayla’s belly, leaving behind a trail of staples that mar her formerly perfect skin. Everyone is patting me on the back after that one.Great work, Dr. Davis.
I wonder what they would say if they knew about those two dead girls.
Chapter 30
I hand off the trauma pager to Philip at nine-thirty, then I have to take an Uber to the police station because my car is still in the lot at my office, the tires slashed. I remember that night I drove to this same police station to evade Henry Callahan. That was before he took things too far, and I…
Well, I didn’t do anything to him. He got into an accident because of his own stupidity.
I wonder how he’s doing…
Patricia Holstein is waiting for me in the parking lot of the police station, as promised. I recognize her immediately, based on the photograph on her website, with her platinum blond bob and sharp eyes with a web of lines underneath. She’s about a decade older than I am, but she looks like she’s been doing this job for a hundred years. I wonder how Philip knows her.
“Dr. Davis?” she asks, taking in my blue scrubs. There was absolutely no time to change after I finished up with Kayla Ramirez. I’m lucky I made it here at all.
“Yes.” I shift in my seat. “Patricia Holstein?”
She nods briskly. “Patricia is fine. Let’s talk inside my car before we go in.”
Patricia Holstein has a BMW that appears to suit her level of success. As I slide into the buttery leather passenger seat, I feel increasingly uncomfortable in my scrubs, which pale in comparison to her expensive suit. She’s wearing the sort of suit where you want to reach out and feel the material.
When we’re both inside the vehicle, Patricia turns to face me. She’s looking at something on the leg of my pants, and I follow her gaze. It’s a bloodstain. Courtesy of Kayla Ramirez, who was stable when I left the hospital. She’s going to pull through.
“I just got out of surgery,” I explain.
“Not the best attire when they’re questioning you about a murder.”
I shrug helplessly. “It was a pretty intense surgery.”
“Fine. There’s not much we can do about it now.” She glances at the police station and back at me. “So I’m having a lot of trouble understanding why they’re persisting in going after you. You are a respected surgeon, you didn’t have any personal relationship with these girls, and there’s no reason to believe you would be a suspect. Aside, of course, from your family history. But something like that would get laughed out of court.”
“Right.” I feel a spark of hope. “It seems crazy.”
“Unless there’s something we don’t know.” Her sharp eyes rake over my face. “Or there’s somethingIdon’t know.”
“I… I don’t think so.” I can’t tell her about the blood inmy basement. Every time the words come to my lips, I can hear how it sounds in my head. It sounds like I’m guilty. Blood does not just magically appear. And anyway, Barber doesn’t know about it. And he’llneverknow if I can help it.
“Listen to me, Dr. Davis.” There’s no trace of a smile on her lips. “Whatever you have done or have not done, it is my job to defend you. But if you don’t tell me everything I need to know, I can’t do my job. So tell me. Is there something I should know?”
I swallow. “No. Nothing.”
She gives me a long look. I can’t tell whether she believes me or not, but finally, she unlocks the doors to the car. “Let’s go.”
The police station is a two-story brown brick building, with about half a dozen police cars parked right outside. Patricia strides purposefully towards the entrance like she’s been here dozens of times before, which I suppose is possible. I don’t feel in my element here though. I feel confident when I’m in the operating room—not here.
There’s a desk at the entrance, and Patricia takes charge by telling the receptionist that I’m here and that Detective Barber is expecting us. The receptionist instructs us to have a seat, and immediately, I’m checking my watch. I don’t have time for this. Don’t they realize I’m asurgeon? I saved a woman’s life this morning and these people…
Well, I suppose they save lives from time to time too. But still.
After twenty minutes of driving myself crazy, Detective Barber comes out to meet us. My legs are shaking so badly, I have to try twice to get out of the chair. ButPatricia leaps right out of her seat and holds her hand out for the detective to shake. I’ll have to thank Philip for sending me to her. I feel in very capable hands.
“Thank you for coming, Dr. Davis.” Barber’s tone is polite, but his dark eyes are examining me like a microscope. I cringe under his gaze. “Follow me this way, ladies.”
Barber leads us down a long hallway to a dimly lit room with a folding table and chairs set up. It must be an interrogation room. I’m in aninterrogation room. This is not good.
