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“Funny.” I take the pen from behind my ear so I have something to hold. “I don’t consider my staff to be stooges, Doctor Kernicke. The fact you label yourself as such is something you should possibly explore with a professional of some kind. In the meantime, I’ve come to speak to you about a few things that concern me.”
“Do they concern you in general,” he smirks like he thinks he’s clever, “or is this specifically amething?”
“It’s a you thing.”
Since he wants to make this bigger than it is, I can meet him on his level.
Setting the reports on his desk, I read the notes I’ve already made in the margins. “In the last ninety days alone, you have used up seventy-five percent of the departmental budget.”
Slowly, his smirk leeches away. “Kinda implies I do seventy-five percent of the work around here, no? Ha!” He laughs out loud so his belly bounces and his cheeks pinken. “Are we here to discuss my pay raise for exemplary work?”
Instead of allowing him to pull us onto a tangent, I clasp my hands together and stare dead into his eyes. “We’re here to discuss why you have a case turnover rate at less than half our next worst performer. Why is your close rate at only eighty-two percent, when it should be, at the very worst, ninety-six percent? Why do you demand so many departmental resources, when you put out so little work?”
He blusters and sits forward. “How dare—”
“I fail to understand whyI’mcatching the cases you cannot solve, and when I take a look, I have answers within hours, sometimes within minutes, because I’ve run the case at its most basic level—proving you’re skipping steps or simply too incompetent to complete them.”
He shoves up from his desk, just as I predicted he would. The very reason security has been called. “I am the most senior doctor in this facility!”
“You’re one of the oldest, the most qualified, the most experienced… and yet our second-years on staff do the work better than you.”
“You bit—”
“I am giving you formal notice that your position at George Stanley is to be vacated in two weeks. You are no longer a suitable fit for this facility, and as such, I’m choosing to give you time to clear out your caseload and make a dignified exit. I do not intend to gossip with the staff, so for all I care, you can tell them you’ve found something else, somewhere else, and I will let your falsified reputation stand.”
I slowly push up to my feet, then back up a step when he comes around his desk. But I do not mince my words. “You were on thin ice weeks ago. You were belligerent and uncooperative on a crime scene last week. And put simply, your performance here does not stack up for the amount you cost us. For these reasons, I’m letting you go.”
“You don’t get to let me go!” His face reddens with rage. “You don’t get to come in here from some other fucking city and swing your ass around like you can change what’s been in place, what has been working, foryearsbefore you even finished school! You don’t get to act superior when you’re speaking to a man twice your age and of twice your standing.”
“I get to run the George Stanley how I see fit, Doctor Kernicke.” I keep my voice calm. My words unhurried. “That is my privilege because of the title I hold. You can choose to finish out your two weeks and say your goodbyes, and I won’t say a word to harm that fragile reputation you so desire to maintain. Or you can leave now. The choice is entirely yours, but you will be gone from here within fourteen days.”
Movement from behind me lets me know Kernicke’s chance of a dignified exit has fled. Because of his own shouting, because of his inability to control his temper, his colleagues have come to watch the show.
His gaze shoots over my head, so I follow it to find a dozen of my employees standing in awed silence. Pathologists with gloves still on their hands. Coroners in white jackets and plastic safety glasses. Scientists who choose a lab over a club any chance they get. All of them watch us like this is the most entertainment they’ll get this month.
When I turn my back on them and face Drew again, I watch as his cheeks grow paler. As his hands shake, and his lips peel back in anger.
Before my brain catches up and my common sense takes over, Kernicke winds his arm back, faster than I could ever expect—faster than the security personnel racing closer could predict—and with an open hand, he swings his arm around and slaps my face so hard that bells ring in my ears and lights flash behind my eyes.
Instantly, chaos explodes inside and around me.
My stomach rebels, bile attempts to race along my throat and make a fool of me, and because of the momentum of Kernicke’s hit, I spin a hundred and eighty degrees and slam against the chair I borrowed from another desk. It shoots away when my foot connects with the wheels and my hands reach out for the cushion, then as I drop to a knee on the unforgiving, cold tile, I lift my head just in time to watch two security guards tackle Kernicke to the floor a few feet away.
The trio land with a slam, and Kernicke’s screams echo through the large room and into my aching brain as I bring my hand up to cup my burning cheek. Tears boil behind my eyes… not because I’m emotional, but because this asshole knocked my brain cells around like they’ve been dropped into a pinball machine.
“Drew Kernicke.” As the security guys wrestle my former employee into submission, I work my way to my feet. My legs are shaky and my heart races, but I lock that weakness down and show nothing but steadiness to anyone watching.
Because that’s what this building needs: a chief with strength. A chief who can stand up under the pressure of leading a team.
While my head stops spinning, I wait for Drew to stop struggling, then I look into his eyes and draw a deep breath. “Your employment is terminated effective immediately.”My face stings, you prick. “Your security clearance, medical privileges, and employment in this building cease as of this moment.”I taste blood on my tongue. Asshole.“Security will watch you collect your things—you have five minutes—and then they will escort you from the building. You will never enter again, and if you try, charges will be pressed against you for assault.”
“You’re destroying my career!” he shouts. “You’re shitting on my legacy.”
“You did that to yourself.” I look to the men holding him, blinking when my vision turns fuzzy. “He has five minutes.” Then I turn to my crowd and select the second-year doctor, James Kirk—not of theStar Trekfandom. “You know Doctor Kernicke’s caseload. I want you to collate everything I need to know and have it on my desk by five p.m.”
Without turning back to Drew, I shake my head and walk away. Of course my limp is back and more pronounced than ever. But it’s my face that burns like the fire of a million suns.
“Let’s go,” I say to Aubree. “Back to my office.”
“Shit.” Her shoes squeak as she hurries to keep up with me. “You need an icepack?”
“Yup.” I move through my staff and say nothing of the drama unfolding in front of them. “And ibuprofen. I have a headache already.”
