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Every staff member had just completed mandatory cybersecurity training, which included how to spot suspicious emails. And what happened to plain old common sense? Finance managers, of all people, understood the hospital’s budget didn’t include raises.
He stared at the hazy moon he’d rather be looking at with Rosalie. Unfortunately, fate, that little bitch, had her own plans.
Again.
Cannon gripped the phone harder. “I thought our network was secure.”
“Secure doesn’t mean impenetrable.” A defensive edge crept into Karl’s tone. “I did the best job with the resources I had.”
“I know.” Flames from his ulcer licked Cannon’s stomach lining. Could the attack have been prevented if he’d signed off on more technology investments instead of oncology upgrades?
“How much are the attackers demanding for the decryption keys to unlock the data?”
“Two million dollars.”
“Shit. We can’t cover that payout.”
“I’m aware. Our cyber insurance only covers half of it. The deadline to transfer the money is tomorrow at midnight. The attackers warned not to call the authorities, or there will be consequences.”
“Don’t call anyone.” He paced between the trees and a utility shed, his steps sturdy. His pulse pounded anything but a stable rhythm. “Don’t call the police or the FBI or any type of law enforcement.”
He understood what the police would do in this situation. His father had been a cop. Julia was finally back at the precinct now that she’d recovered from her last round of chemotherapy. Hell, he’d even gone to the police academy before Julia’s condition had swerved his career to medicine.
Karl heaved a long sigh. “Listen, Dr. Ford, I know the ransom demand says not to report the attack, but we need to call?—”
“No, we don’t.”
No authorities. No morning-after pancakes with Rosalie.
Rosalie.
The siren who’d bested him on the mountain. The snow angel with the daredevil streak. The woman who worked inlaw enforcement.“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes for a full briefing. Get the insurance payout. I’ll take care of the rest.”
“Do you have a million dollars lying around?”
“Don’t worry about it.” He hung up and pounded his fist into the top of a garbage can. Not as satisfying as the face of whoever had attacked his hospital, but he’d been learning his whole life that you couldn’t punch an invisible enemy. He wasn’t sure if his decisions had gotten them into this situation, but he would damn well get them out of it. Red Snow’s patients—and his sister—couldn’t afford even one day’s disruption in care.
With a low growl, he left the trees to say goodbye to the perfect woman he’d never see again.
Fate wasn’t just a little bitch—she was the mother of them all.
THREE
Rosalie touched the blood-crusted gauze caked to the slice on her forehead. Her wince shook the hospital bed she perched on. “Why does a tiny wound have to hurt so much?”
Annie, the ER nurse with spiky gray hair, didn’t look up from her clipboard. “The small wounds always hurt the most, dear.” She leaned against the counter set into the wall and raised her motherly gaze. “It says here on your intake form that you injured yourself at the ski lodge.”
“Yes.” After Cannon had ditched her last night, she’d gone back to her family’s rented condo and shared a bottle of wine with her cousin, Bella. Despite a mild hangover, Rosalie had been first in the lift line this morning, itching to burn her restless energy and freeze the urge to search the area for Cannon’s cabin.
Annie pulled a pen out of her scrub top. “The lodge gets crazy on a Saturday.”
“Yeah.” But not as crazy as it had last night when she’d kissed a man she’d just met.
“Tell me how you cut your head.”
“Some careless guy clipped me with the edge of his board when he picked it up from the rack.”
Annie scribbled something on the clipboard. “What time did the injury happen?”
