12
Robyn
I walk out of my office with Ridge right behind me. I can feel him there, even though he doesn’t make so much as a sound.
Carla looks up from her desk as we pass reception. She tries hard to hide her smile and fails. I shoot her a warning look that she completely ignores.
“Goodnight, Carla.”
“Night, Dr. Keller. Night, Ridge.”
“Night.” His voice is deep.
The hospital at this hour is in that in-between state where the day shift is thinning out and the evening shift hasn’t fully taken over. A few nurses move through the hallway with that end-of-day energy, chart tablets tucked under their arms, heads ducked toward their screens. Someone laughs in a side room.
I nod at two of my surgical nurses as we pass the lifts. One of them bites down on her lower lip as her eyes move behind me, and the other raises her eyebrows.
Ridge is causing quite a stir.
We get to the side exit, and I push it open. The warm evening air hits me. I breathe it in, relaxing a little.
“How far is your car?” he asks.
“The staff parking is around the back. Where did you park?”
“Out front, but I’ll come with you as part of my assessment.”
“Okay, then.”
We cross the little courtyard between admin and the main hospital, then take the path that curves behind the building and down the slope toward the staff lot.
Ridge falls in next to me.
His head moves from side to side, taking everything in. He glances up at the lights along the path. He looks at the bushes on my left. He looks at the little service road that cuts down toward the delivery bays and the dumpsters.
“Is this the route you usually take?” he asks.
“Mostly. It’s the shortest way.”
He makes a noise that tells me he’s taking note.
We turn around the last corner, and the staff lot opens up in front of us. It’s maybe two-thirds empty at this hour. The lights are on. Dave is in his booth at the boom gate, head bent over a newspaper. He waves as he clocks us.
I wave back.
My car is in its usual spot, third from the end, next to the concrete pillar with the chipped paint.
I point at it.
“That one. The dark blue Audi.”
“Wait here a second.”
I stop walking.
He moves past me and does a slow loop around my car. He’s looking at the ground. He’s looking at the pillar. He’s looking up at the ceiling of the covered section, where a camera is mounted on the corner of the concrete overhang. He traces its angle withhis gaze and then turns his whole body to see what it can and can’t see.
He makes a small sound. I think he’s probably making more mental notes.
