Chapter 26

I can't focus.

In lab today, it's just me and Rachel. She's been showing up a lot lately, and it seems like it's paying off. She knows her stuff. And for some reason, she's being nice to me today. She's trying to give me a pep talk about Heather.

"You know, Heather's a sucker for flowers," she says. "And chocolate. If you buy her enough of those, I'm sure she'll forgive you for everything." She adds, "And I'll put in a good word for you too."

"Thanks, Rachel."

Rachel smiles at me and leans over the body of our cadaver (Mason has nicknamed him Frank) to dissect the right arm. Rachel's T-shirt has become stretched out in the course of the lab, and I catch a quick glimpse of her breasts through the V-neck while she leans forward. I'm not the kind of guy who stares at women's chests, though—I swear. I don't know what the hell is wrong with me lately.

I didn't think I was that blatant about it, but somehow, Rachel seems to notice. She straightens up and glares at me.

"Hey," she snaps at me. "Eyes are up here, mister."

"Sorry," I stammer.

I'm mortified that she caught me looking. Is she going to tell anyone? That would be just what I need right now.

"Is there a problem here?"

Dr. Conlon has approached our table. His black eyebrows are raised at me. There's something distinctly threatening in the way that Dr. Conlon is looking at me.

I was never able to prove that Dr. Conlon is the one sending students to Kovak's clinic, but I still have a gut feeling it's him. He might act like Mr. Professor of the Year, but he's clearly got a dark side.

Dr. Conlon is hiding something. I would bet my life on it.

"No problem," I say, swallowing hard. "I'm just… not feeling that good."

"Do you need to leave?" Dr. Conlon asks me. His brows are furrowed in concern now.

"Yeah, I think I better…"

I need to talk to Patrice.

I changeout of my scrubs first because I can't go anywhere when I'm reeking of cadaver juice. But my very next stop is Patrice's office.

I don't have an appointment, but the light is on under her door, so I take a chance and knock. A second later, she pulls open the door. When she sees me standing there, a pleased smile lights her face.

"Abe," she says. "Please come in."

She steps back to let me enter her office and shuts the door behind us, but when she gestures at the man-eating sofa, I can't manage to sit down. She clearly doesn't like me hovering over her, but I don't care.

"Listen," I say, "did you investigate that clinic I told you about?"

Patrice lifts one of her penciled-in eyebrows. "Are you talking about the clinic where you work?"

There's a slight edge to her voice. Does she have any clue what happened at the clinic the other night? Does she know what my involvement is? Or maybe I'm just imagining it.

"Yes," I say. It's not like it's any secret.

She sits silently for a moment as panic floods my chest. She doesn't answer me for long enough that I'm tempted to sit down on the sofa just because I don't know if my legs can hold me anymore. But then she flashes me another smile.

"We investigated the clinic," she says, "and I can say that I don't think there are any issues. Seems like a regular medical clinic that has been treating a lot of students. No issues there."

I stare at her, not sure whether to feel relieved or stunned. The school investigated the clinic and found nothing? How is that possible? Kovak must be better at covering his tracks than I thought.

It's good news, though, isn't it? It means I don't have to worry.

It means Patrice isn't a threat.

"And what about Dr. Conlon?" I ask. "I think he might be behind the drug distribution."

Our anatomy professor is hiding something. I would bet my life on it. He must be the one sending students to that clinic.

I expected Patrice to react with shock at the accusation, but she somehow takes it in stride—like she was expecting it. Which makes me think I'm not so off base.

"I share your concerns about him," she says in a low voice. "He's been acting… well, I can't get into it. But I can't prove anything right now. I promise, though, I'll keep an eye on him."

Validation. Patrice thinks that Dr. Conlon is just as suspicious as I do.

"Thank you," I say.

"No, thank you for your concerns." She frowns. "The substance-abuse issue at the school has been a terrible thing, and I'll do anything to get to the bottom of it."

Is it terrible to say that I hope she doesn't?