The Plague Doctor by E. Joan Sims Page B

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    Each of us had brought little penlights, but I now turned on the larger flashlight I had tucked into the back of my jeans and upended it on the desk as we looked around the room.
    One wall was occupied by floor-to-ceiling shelves of medical books and journals. I checked some of the dates. Most of them were current issues. Apparently the doc kept up with the latest professional news.
    All of the drawers of his big old oak desk were unlocked and opened easily but neither of us could find anything of interest—just pens and paper clips and other office supplies.
    Baxter had no computer. Old-fashioned oak file cabinets no doubt held the information I was seeking. I took the list of patients I had printed from Ethan’s computer out of my pocket and went to pull the charts.
    â€œHey Mom,” whispered Cassie, “look at this!”
    How many times had I heard my daughter say that during the last twenty years?
    â€œDon’t bother me now, Cassie. We can’t stay here forever,” I replied in an irritable whisper.
    â€œOkay then, if you don’t want to examine a large cardboard filing box labeled ‘Obstetrical Patients 1997-2000.’”
    â€œYou’re kidding!”
    â€œShsssss!”
    â€œWonder what this is doing here?”
    â€œI don’t know. I just found it tucked under the desk. It looks like he was planning to move it somewhere.”
    â€œTerrific! Let’s just take the whole box home.”
    â€œBut, Mom, he’s bound to come back looking for it. What’ll we do then?”
    â€œLook, Cassie, we can’t possibly review all the charts under these conditions.”
    â€œYou’re right there, Sherlock. You’re sweating like a pig, and I’m about to die in this wool sweater. It’s like a greenhouse in here. You’d think they would have turned off the furnace to save money when they closed the office.”
    â€œProbably can’t. These old buildings only have one common furnace, and the pharmacy is still open for business.”
    â€œSo what’s your plan, Mom?”
    My throat ached from the forced whispering and I was dying for a cold drink.
    â€œLet’s take this file box home and go over it at our leisure—meaning tonight and tomorrow. We can bring it back tomorrow night and no one will be the wiser.”
    â€œWe hope!”
    â€œWe hope.”
    â€œOkay, I’m with you. You grab that end. I’ve got this one.”
    Cass hefted her end of the box. It was heavier than it looked. She staggered and accidentally backed into a small table in the corner. There was a loud crash and the sudden smell of something pungent and medicinal.
    â€œDamn! What in the world is that?”
    I held my nose against the odor as I bent down to pick up the broken bottle. The wet label was already smeared and barely legible.
    â€œAll I can tell is it’s ‘highly flammable.’”
    â€œGreat!”
    Cass set the box down and opened the door to the bathroom.
    â€œThere are some paper towels in here. We can clean it up and toss the bottle. Maybe the doctor will forget it was ever here by the time he comes back.”
    â€œWhat’s that!”
    Our voices had grown increasingly louder. I dropped mine back to an urgent whisper as I turned my flashlight off and peeked out of the crack in the door to the hallway. Down by the entrance, another light was bobbing along with someone’s measured tread. We only had a few moments before they reached us. I closed the door as quietly as I could.
    â€œQuick! Grab the box and let’s get out of here.”
    â€œHow?”
    There was panic in her voice.
    â€œThrough the bathroom. The pharmacy is on the other side. We can get outside from there. Hurry!”
    We each lifted the heavy file box and lugged it into the bathroom. I closed that door and turned the inside lock hoping the locked door would buy us some extra time.
    Cass braced her end of the