That doesn't sit right. At all.
"She had symptoms," I say flatly. "Slurred speech. Motor issues."
"I believe you," he's quick to add. "No proof doesn't mean it didn't happen."
"Then explain."
He shifts his weight. "There's something called a TIA—a transient ischemic attack. Sometimes people call it amini-stroke." He gestures vaguely. "A clot briefly blocks blood flow to part of the brain, causes stroke-like symptoms… then moves on or dissolves before permanent damage is done."
My medical knowledge is zero, so I have to ask. "That wouldn't show up?"
"Not always," he admits. "Especially if it's already passed by the time we run imaging. It can look completely normal afterward."
So, it happened. And now it's just… gone?
"That's not good enough," I say.
He nods like he expected that. "No, it's not ideal. It also means she's at risk for a larger stroke if?—"
I cut him off. "I want every test done you can think of." He blinks. "And several more after that," I continue. "I want her checked from head to toe."
"Sir—"
"Test her for malaria if you have to," I snap. "I don't give a shit what it costs or how long it takes. I want to know what's wrong with her."
Silence. He studies me for a second. "That's going to be expensive, sir."
I stare him down. "Do I look like I give a shit?"
He nods as understanding finally blooms. "Alright."
No argument. No pushback. He turns and walks off, already pulling out a tablet, issuing orders. Good.
I glance back into the room. At Audra. Still sitting there. Still holding on. Still not breaking. I bite back a curse. Because I don't like this. Not the uncertainty. Not the waiting. And definitely not the look in her eyes. She's running on fumes. And when that runs out, I don't know what's going to be left.
The doctor's words, however, make me realize something else. Something I hadn't considered before.Expensive. I send a text to Kale to pull Stacy's bank accounts. I've looked at Audra's, of course, but not at Stacy's. Why would I? But now I'm sure the bills have to be stacking up in her account, and I'm also sure Audra and Pete were the ones paying them.
My phone vibrates. If that is Massimo telling me about some bullshit meeting he's called, he'll have to live with disappointment, because I'm not leaving Audra's side. I don't give a shit if the Mexican cartel has marched into Vegas. Massimo and the others can handle it.
Instead of Massimo's name, I see: Unknown number.
Fury rises in my stomach, and I step farther down the hallway before answering. "Yes."
A low chuckle slides through the line. "Salazar was very grateful for the information I gave him."
My eyes narrow. So. That's how. Interesting. "I didn't realize you were doing charity work now. Who tipped you off?"
Another laugh. Amused. Mocking. "You disappoint me, Gabe."Yeah. I bet I do."You should know better than to ask questions you already understand the answer to."
I do. But right now, I'd rather hear him say it. "You're the rat. You fed him my name."
"I prefer… facilitator."
Heat crawls up the back of my neck. One day I'll find this fucker and he'll beg me to put a bullet through his brain. "That means someone talked," I push. "Or you wouldn't have had anything to sell."
He pauses dramatically. I let him have the moment. "I'm not going to tell you that."
Figures.