34. Mine to Make

34

Mine to Make

Brighton

Monday, June 5 th

2:19 p.m.

There is a delicate balance between telling Luca I don't have a backup of the files and explaining we might not need it.

"The server shows your login to your email on Saturday morning at a little after one in the morning." The IT guy continues with his spiel of how an inside source on hospital grounds breached my private data.

I try not to zone out. My patients probably feel this way when I spew out facts about their cases, and I make a mental note to work on my bedside manner.

"Does that make sense?"

I nod, hoping it's appropriate. I don't think I can make it through the rest of this.

"I can pull footage from the cameras, but I don't know how this person would have access to your personal login information."

"Maybe someone in HR?" I suggest.

He ponders over this for a few seconds. "That would be where I would start. They have all your data stored. Seems like the culprit would need to have easy access."

Luca flashes into my mind. But there's no way he would be involved. I told him I would bring him what I have; I just haven't made it that far yet.

"What were you saying about not needing to find my emails?" I note IT guy's nameplate positioned under his pocket protector, a smile creasing at the corner of my mouth. Eugene. Seems appropriate.

He stands a little taller, a confident gleam in his eye as he explains, "All our files and personnel information are backed up to an outside, HIPAA-compliant, privacy-certified server. Those files are available to us for use but stored on a database that requires multifactorial authentication for login purposes, including three diff—"

"Is that something anyone at the hospital can do?"

"If you'd let me continue."

I remind myself it's rude to roll my eyes. I'm not built for thinking outside the box, and I don't have time for this. I want straightforward answers, but Eugene believes every detail is essential.

"It requires three supervisors from three different hospital locations. This is something that would need to be scheduled and their credentials certified. It's no easy feat. And something that would take time to put into motion. It doesn't happen often, if ever."

"How often do they get backed up?"

"Every day."

"Once per day?"

"Twice. All changes are recorded in the files. Anything that has ever been done to a patient's file will be logged. Would you like me to set up a time to—"

I hold up a hand. "I appreciate it, but I think you've given me all I need. Someone will be in touch if we need more." I pat his arm, and he goes rigid, his eyes growing to the size of golf balls as they trail down his arm to where my hand touches his skin.

"You know where to find me," he says as he reaches next to his computer screen and hands me a business card with a bashful smile. I'm convinced this is the first time he's had the privilege of handing one out.

"Thank you for the information." I make my way down the hallway to the elevator, confirming why I've never been to the IT department before. Something about it reminds me of a dungeon. I rub my hands over my arms. I don't get why they like to keep it so cold.

Three floors later, I exit onto the HR floor and make my way off the elevator and through the crowd toward Luca's office.

"Dr. Fields?"

The sound of my name coming from an unfamiliar voice has the hairs on my arms standing on end. I take my time turning, reminding myself that not every situation requires all my senses to kick into overdrive, but I'm jumpy.

"I've been looking for you." Tara smiles, slowing her jog once she catches up to me.

A million questions enter my mind at the sight of her, but one rolls off my tongue without permission. "Why'd you suggest a change to one of my patients without consulting me?"

Her brow furrows. "I . . . what?"

"Blakely. You told Kline to move his CT scan. You had concerns?"

She crosses her arms over her signature red scrubs and gives me a petulant scowl. "We went out for drinks, and Kline asked me about Liam. It wasn't the other way around. I never recommended anything."

"But he said you . . . you went for drinks?" Of course my mind would catch on to this part of what she says. I didn't know what Margo was talking about until I see it for myself. Tara looks like the victims, like me. Dark hair, hazel eyes—Kline does have a type. "When?"

"Saturday night." She drops her arms, stuffing her hands into her pockets. When she rocks back on her heels, the light from overhead glints off the row of caduceus pins she has fastened across the bottom hem of her top. All six of them. "I figured if I finally said yes, he'd leave me alone. That hasn't been the case. We've gone out a couple of times now. He's not as uptight outside of work."

I can't tear my eyes from the pins. Why does she have so many? How did I never notice them before? Didn't she mention having a man in her life? "I'm sorry. What?"

"You asked about Kline." She follows my stare and grabs the lineup of pins, holding it up before she continues, "We're just friends."

"What did he say about Liam?" I redirect our conversation, unsure of why I'm over-analyzing everything.

"He mentioned some discrepancies in his care. He asked my opinion on scans and the time between treatments. I told him the usual: with ES, we wait until the end of the second week of treatment and infusions. He dropped it after that."

"Interesting." I shake myself out of a stupor. "I'm sorry, you mentioned trying to find me?" Why does everything seem to have an underlying meaning to it now?

"I need a ride on Friday. Do you mind?"

"I work until six," I say, trying to dissuade her interest in the offer I never meant to agree on.

"I can always use the extra time to catch up on dictations. Meet you at the elevators?"

"Six at the elevators." I toss a carefree wave over my shoulder as I continue down the hall.

This could be my chance. Someone who's gone out with Kline. More than once, especially since she's in a relationship—this could get interesting.

"He's inside," Luca's secretary informs me with a smile as I enter the HR department. Her eyes shift to his door, and her smile slips from her face.

He's tucked behind his desk, head down.

I tap on the door. "Knock, knock."

"Come in. Close the door." He doesn't lift his gaze from his paperwork to acknowledge me.

I take a seat in front of his desk, pull the corrupted USB from my pocket, and set it on the papers in front of him.

He pauses before taking the device between his fingers, still not meeting my eyes. "Thank you."

"It's not what you think it is."

He glances up at me. "These aren't my files?"

"No. It's blank." All the things Eugene said about servers and backups and databases stream through my mind like an open water faucet. "But we don't need them."

"I asked you to bring them to me." Luca sits up straighter in his chair, taking the USB and holding it up between us. His nostrils flare as his lips flatten. "Where are they?"

"Some special server. I talked to the IT guy, and he said we could set up a meeting if we need them. Someone found my USB and cleared it. I emailed the files to myself, but they're gone too." Fear slices through me with the realization that Luca isn't surprised by this information. He nods for me to continue, and I swallow the lump in my throat as I divert my eyes to my clenched hands in my lap. "I asked Kline about it, and he had no idea what I was talking about."

I wait for a reaction. But don't get one.

Luca reaches into the top drawer on the right side of his desk and pulls out a bunch of Post-it notepads, a calculator, and a bag of pins. He continues yanking out odds and ends, but my eyes stay focused on the baggie. Does everyone have stashes of these freaking things?

I reach across the desk and grab them, dumping them in front of me. "Why do you have these?"

"The same reason you do." He points at the caduceus pinned to my lapel over my breast pocket.

"I have one ."

"That's not a coincidence. I'm the one who gave it to you."

He has a relevant point. I'm pretty sure I got it when I signed my contract. I let out a breath of relief and hang my head. Not everyone is a suspect, B. Chill out.

"Are you okay?" Luca reaches across the desk and scoops the pins back into the bag. "I wanted to keep track of the files. You said the IT guy mentioned a server?"

"Yes, everything is saved." I give him a half-hearted smile. "And safe."

"Can the lawyers get access?"

"I'm not sure. He gave me his card. You could ask." I pull Eugene's business card from my pocket and offer it to Luca. He doesn't take it. He stares at it and recoils as if it's a rattlesnake about to spring. "I don't think Kline can get access to them, if that's what you're asking. I was told that the servers keep track of all the changes. Anything he's done will show on the record."

Luca drops back into his seat, lacing his fingers behind his head as he stares up at the ceiling. "Does the IT guy know who came in and erased your files?"

"He said he would check the cameras but didn't say when he'd get back to me with the information."

"If we have the files backed up, I don't think the camera footage is necessary." He reaches for the card. "I can let him know."

"But I need to know who did this." I let him take the card from between my fingers and instantly regret it.

"And we'll find out, but it's not a priority at the moment." He holds up the card, inspecting it before he sets it into the open drawer beside him and swipes all the contents back inside, burying it like it has no significance. "Thank you for looking into all of this for me. I'll take care of everything from here."

I walk away with my head hung and my thoughts reeling.

Today is full of mistakes. One after another.

They were mine to make.

But, at this point, I want to burn it all down.