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I stiffened. My breath came out, shallow and uneven.

How did he…

The bastard was resourceful.

“Poison. As beautiful as you, and just as lethal. That fits.”

“What the fuck are you babbling about?” I asked, composing my face, but I knew he saw my truth in that flickering moment of hesitation.

“You know what. You killed Doctor Dawson,” he said it like he hadn’t a smidgen of doubt about my guilt. “You ran… because you got caught.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Now leave before I call someone to haul your ass out of this room. You shouldn’t be here,” I said, pulling him by his shirt. He didn’t resist. I let go when we reached the door.

“I’m curious to know more. I will, and when I do…”

“When you do?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t you forget, Asher. I saw you kill a man.”

“Do you have any evidence, Doc?” His voice was sarcastic. I wanted to bite that smile off his lips. “You don’t. Maybe you’re the one who killed Doctor T. What would the lovely Detective Knight think if he caught wind of this?”

The familiar name was like a slap.

I stilled, my heart pounding in my ears. I fought the urge to glance over my shoulder, half-expecting Knight’s steely eyes to materialize out of thin air.

“You son of a bitch,” I hissed, stepping forward before I could stop myself. I bared my teeth at him, every muscle in my body coiled like a spring ready to snap. “Don’t you dare threaten me. I keep warning you.”

“And I keep ignoring it,” he said, jaw clenched. He gripped the front of my dress and pulled me closer until his nose was pressed against mine. I pushed him away with a snarl.

“Leave.” I opened the door. He gave me a look before he walked past me, leaving me alone in the soft silence that grew thick until my heart pounded.

Calm the fuck down.

When I finally stopped shaking, I went through Doctor T’s shelves and pulled the older patient records one by one, leafing through the scribbled notes.

It took me half an hour when I finally came across the name. Riley McLaren. This must be it. The year, her name, and the diagnoses were all printed on a slightly rotting file.

I opened the file with a frown to see it was almost empty.

There were a few pages of clinical diagnoses and a single page of BIRP mental health progress notes in Doctor T’s weird scrawl, and that was all. Most of it was missing.

Was it Asher or was it someone else, trying to tie the loose ends?

I walked out of Doctor T’s office, locking the door behind me.

I called Trina when I sat down on the couch.

“How’s work?”

“Boring. How are you?” Trina asked. “How was your date with the hot cop?”

“The date was good, but something else happened. Something much more interesting.” I told her about The Gates, and she gasped.

“Shit. That was bad.”

“Was it? I’ve got leverage now, and I’m to teach that fucking rat to not come into my room and touch my things.”