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The thought had been sitting quietly in the back of her mind since yesterday.
There could be a perfectly legitimate reason for what she was seeing. An internal accounting process she didn’t understand. A software quirk. A glitch. Some obscure medical billing practice that would make complete sense to someone who dealt with this stuff every day.
Devon knew computers. She knew data. She knew how to find patterns other people missed. Medical billing? Not her specialty.
Which meant she needed someone else to look at what she was seeing. Someone who understood systems as well as she did, and whose skills and opinion she trusted.
Her gaze shifted toward her phone.
“No.”
Willow stopped licking her paw and stared.
Devon frowned at the cat. “I didn’t ask you.”
She stared at the phone while the animal continued bathing. She’d talked to Blake yesterday. They’d texted each other last night.
You’re being ridiculous. Friends call each other all the time.
They also sent friends suspicious financial data and asked whether they were slowly losing their minds.
Devon grabbed the phone. Blake’s name sat near the top of her recent calls. She tapped it before she could talk herself out of it.
The phone began to ring.
Once. Twice. Three times and then . . .
Voicemail.
An unexpected wave of disappointment struck when she heard his recorded greeting.
“This is Blake. You know what to do.”
The beep sounded.
“Hey. It’s me.” Devon winced.
Caller ID had been around for a while. Obviously, it was her.
“I’m sending you something,” she continued. “When you get a chance, can you take a look at it for me? I found some weird discrepancies in one of my client’s reports yesterday, and I wrote a program to dig a little deeper.” She looked at the transactions on her screen. “I found more.” Her throat worked a swallow. “A lot more.” Devon tucked a strand of damp hair behind her ear. “I can’t tell if I’ve actually found something that matters or if I’m losing my mind, so I need another set of eyes on it. Ones I trust.” She paused. “And before you say it, yes, I realize asking you to determine whether I’m crazy is probably a questionable choice.” A smile tugged at her mouth. “Just call me when you get a chance. Bye.”
She ended the call.
For a moment, Devon stared at his name on the screen before setting the phone down and getting back to work.
She extracted only the transaction information Blake needed, removing patient names and other identifying data to protect their privacy. After encrypting the file, she attached it to an email and clicked.
There.
Blake would look it over and tell her she was imagining things and then Devon could finally put her conspiracy-driven mind to rest.
Four hours, three previously scheduled client calls, fourteen emails, and one argument with a printer later, Devon officially called it quits for the day.
It was nearly midnight when she finished brushing her teeth. Devon rinsed her toothbrush and dropped it into the ceramic holder.
Her reflection stared back at her. Hair piled into a messy knot. Old sleep shorts. Oversized T-shirt and zero makeup.
“You gorgeous thing, you,” she mumbled sarcastically.