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\u201cNo idea,\u201d I said, grabbing a napkin to blot the coffee. \u201cI deal with ventricles and valves, Marcus, not invoices.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, someone is playing Robin Hood,\u201d Marcus hissed, leaning over my desk, his cologne overpowering the smell of antiseptic. \u201cWe\u2019ve audited the system. There is no \u2018Alpha\u2019 charity fund. It doesn\u2019t exist. Someone has been manually overriding the billing protocols for this patient for thirty-six months. We are talking about two hundred thousand dollars in stolen services, Dr. Evans.\u201d<\/p>\n
My stomach dropped. \u201cStolen?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTheft of services,\u201d he corrected, adjusting his silk tie. \u201cAnd since you are her primary care provider, and you seem quite\u2026 emotionally invested\u2026 in the mother, I\u2019m starting my investigation with you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s absurd,\u201d I stood up, my chair scraping loudly against the floor. \u201cI barely know Clara outside of this room. I treat the girl.\u201d<\/p>\n