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“I found some unusual billing entries.”
Whitaker smiled faintly. “Come now. You’re far too intelligent to insult us both.”
He withdrew a folded sheet of paper from his jacket and placed it on the mattress next to her bent leg. She glanced down, recognizing the printed columns immediately. Patient accounts. Procedure codes. Payment amounts.
This is my work.
Or part of it.
“We know you developed a program to identify billing irregularities,” Whitaker continued. “And we know you accessed information you weren’t authorized to possess.”
“I didn’t steal anything.”
“That’s a matter of interpretation.”
“No. It’s a matter of money being moved through patient accounts to hide fraudulent charges.”
His smile disappeared.
Gotcha.
The man’s expression hardened with a clenching of his jaw.
“I’m going to ask you a few questions. I suggest you answer honestly.” He paused. “What happened to the information you collected?”
She thought of the system crash. The files that had vanished. The frantic hours she’d spent trying to prove she hadn’t imagined what she’d seen.
“I lost it.” Devon met the man’s cold stare.
Whitaker studied her closely. “That’s unfortunate.”
“Your people made sure I couldn’t access it again.”
“Did you make copies?”
“No,” she lied.
“Did you provide anything to Blake Savage or his associates?”
Her pulse quickened.
Hearing Blake’s name was like taking a punch to the chest. She looked away before Whitaker could read her expression.
“I told Blake what I found.”
No sense in lying when it was clear he already knew the truth.
“How much?”
“Enough.”
Devon wanted this man to be worried.
Victor stepped forward, but Whitaker didn’t bother to look his way.
“Specifics, Miss Brighton.”
She lifted a defiant chin. “I don’t remember every conversation we’ve had.”
