3 Executive Sick Days

by Maria E. Schneider

  He unscrewed the lid, poured some and handed me the cup. "I'm not sure I've ever seen anyone quite so ecstatic over hot chocolate."

  "You," I pronounced, "are awesome."

  He looked pleased. "Oh?"

  He sat down next to me with his own cup. I snuggled against his side. He could find out later just how awesome I thought he was. For now, things were just perfect.

  Chapter 14

  The snow lingered in the mountain passes much longer than it did around town. We were lucky that this year there had already been some good dustings with heavier snowfall at higher elevations. Springtime was going to be beautiful. I couldn't think of anything I'd rather do than go back to the mountains with Mark.

  As Mark drove back into town, we chatted about the case. I updated him on my visit with Dr. Dan. "What do you think about checking the patient files for x-rays?"

  Mark glanced over at me. "I can take care of it."

  "Good. When do we look them up?"

  "You can't come with me."

  "Why not? Two could find the files faster than one!"

  "Two can get arrested faster than one also," he pointed out.

  It wasn't absolutely necessary for me to go, but that didn't stop me from arguing for it. "I helped the last time you took me along."

  He raised his eyebrows briefly. We both knew that my "help" had been more accidental than planned.

  "Please?" I tried.

  He smiled. "Why?"

  I hated working with only partial details. In the computer business, it paid to be there, working right in the thick of things, watching the machine do its thing, or fail to do it as the case might be. Sometimes it was a little clue, sometimes it was repeating the test with slight differences until you found the one time it failed, but in all cases, solving problems didn’t happen by sitting at home thinking about them. Then too, it didn’t seem right to hand it off to someone else, even if they were as obviously competent as Mark. "If we went during the day, I could cover for us and claim to be looking for a record."

  "And get fired."

  "I'm not even getting paid!"

  "Nothing to lose, nothing to gain," he said. When he pulled into my driveway, he made no move to get out, so neither did I. "This is what I mean about mixing work and play."

  I didn't see the problem. "You mean because you don't want me to go look in the files, you don't want to date me?"

  "I mean--" he blinked and shook his head. "I don't want you to get hurt."

  I shrugged. "Even if you were just a coworker helping on this case, I'd ask to go."

  "What if it were my brother going?"

  That had nothing to do with anything. "Mark, the first time I met you, I insisted on helping. Ask Huntington. I always want to know more about what is going on and be involved, not just pick through scrap clues he throws my way."

  "What if I gave you a complete report when I finished?"

  I grinned. "It would save time if you took me with you."

  He shook his head, but laughed. "Let me go home, unpack this stuff and pick up a few things. Then we'll meet for dinner and talk about it, okay?"

  I smiled and leaned over to kiss his cheek.

  "What was that?" he growled.

  "Depends," I said as I opened the door. "On whether or not we're dating." It could have been a thanks for a wonderful day. Or maybe it was encouragement. Hmm. Or maybe I was being a naughty tease.

  * * *

  Break-ins combined with dinner dates were not my forte. After Mark dropped me off, I studied my wardrobe carefully, but had no idea how to dress up for dinner, yet be prepared for the hospital basement in the dead of night.

  I settled on black jeans and a black, long-sleeved jersey knit top. Not very sexy, but with my leather jacket, maybe I'd look cool. Luckily, I had black sneakers because white ones simply would not do.

  Before I had a chance to waffle further, the phone rang. It was Mark. He had to cancel dinner, but promised to pick me up at ten.

  "Okay," I agreed. Before I could ask any nosy questions, he said good-bye and hung up.

  I stood with the phone in my hand, pondering. Would he really show? Or was this the start of an excuse? Would he show up with the files and tell me he had already done the job?

  I sighed. "Men."

  My interest in making cookie dough for the freezer was minimal. Dinner, which had been so promising only moments before, had completely lost its luster now that I'd be eating alone.

  I grumbled my way into the kitchen and started on the cookie dough.

  By the second batch, I was in the groove, mixing and tossing ingredients like a chef--until I poofed flour across my black shirt and pants. Perhaps I should have worn an apron.

  I was too nervous to eat a real dinner. Raw cookie dough was more satisfying than anything else I had on hand anyway.

  With four batches of dough in the freezer, I still had time to spare. If I napped now, I'd be more awake at ten. Napping was usually something I could do standing up, but with my mind racing, I couldn't fall asleep, not even with the alarm clock set.

  By nine, I had done everything I could possibly imagine to pass the time. I hated watching television, but clicked through the channels anyway. Maybe "ER" or "CSI" would provide some valuable sleuthing techniques for the case.

  Too bad it was the Christmas season. The "Snoopy" and "Charlie Brown" singing specials wouldn't help me speculate about who might be guilty of adding charges to hospital bills.

  Thumbing through the channels, I mused about how lucky I was to be almost dating someone like Mark. Compared to some of the other supposed successful people out there, he was a fabulous pick. Dr. Fox was obviously a great surgeon, but an even bigger flirt than Mark. The way he carried on, his original marital troubles probably involved "other opportunities." Besides, he had a daughter, and he was too old for me anyway.

  Dr. Staple was also very handsome and a successful doctor, but he didn't think the rest of us deserved to exist. Maybe he equated bilking insurance as his due. He showed little to no respect for the nurses. He didn't even like his elderly patients much.

  All in all, Mark was a very good catch; not that I had done any real catching yet. Of course, there was the fact that he tended to lurk around unsafe places after dark. No, I couldn't hold that against him. Wasn't I responsible for the upcoming nighttime activity that sort of involved breaking and entering? Was it for a good enough cause? Or were we no better than whoever was bilking the hospital? For that matter, Dr. Fox didn't necessarily look to flirt with women; some of them--namely Attila--begged to be flirted with, or…worse. Or was that better?

  It wasn't until a knock on the door woke me up that I realized I had fallen asleep. I had been in the middle of trying to take a donut from Huntington's cat to give to the ever-starved Dr. Burns. Vague memories scattered back to dream world; Attila holding Radar hostage with a stethoscope and Crissa yelling at me about being a thief either because I had a date with Mark or because I was about to break into the hospital.

  But Mark was at my door, not Crissa's, so I crawled out of my recliner and scurried to let him in.

  Chapter 15

  The hospital did not look the same at night. It took on a much spookier dimension, resembling a towering brick threat rather than a place of refuge. The basement didn't have any windows, so unlike the front and sides of the building, the entrance at the back was darker and quieter. Not that lights would have helped, because the heart knew when it was nighttime. Or maybe the heart knew when it was doing something it shouldn't be doing, so it pounded especially hard.

  I had expected Mark to want me to wear my apron so that if anyone spotted me, they would assume I belonged. Not even close. He gave me lab clothes that matched his own loose-fitting dark green ones. "If they see either of us, the clothes will be right, and the faces will just be faces. If they happen to have seen you before, you'll be even more familiar, and no one will recall that you usually wear a volunteer apron."

  "You know," I
said, "the hospital is kind of small. There's probably only," I had to stop and do the math in my head. “Three floors, approximately two nurses each, three shifts, technicians…only two hundred or so people working here. I bet most of them know each other."

  "Then let's not get seen," he said. "Unless you want us to go in as ER patients and sit around until we get a break to sneak downstairs."

  I shuddered. "No thanks. Have you seen the prices they charge?"

  Of all the doors in the place, we had to use the one located down a flight of old metal stairs right next to the loading dock for the morgue. As long as no one was being put in the ice room, or worse, waiting in the ice room for pickup, the basement would be empty. Mark didn't have a key. Neither did I, which is why I had asked Mark to come along.

  His ring of metal picks answered the call in less than two minutes. I had planned to time him, but it was too cold out. No sense in peeling layers off my arm to check my watch.

  The door led into the wide open hallway. Only auxiliary lighting was on, but that was typical down here even during the day.

  "Which door?"

  "Not that one," I hissed as he started for the ice room. "Come on."

  We floated past Radar's door to the one almost directly across the corridor. "This one."

  Mark broke into the storage room quicker than he had unlocked the outside door. As soon as we were in, he turned on the lights.

  "Should we do that?" I asked. "What if someone comes in?"

  "Someone forgot to turn the lights off," he said with a shrug.

  I pondered that. "Where will we be?"

  He looked over his shoulder and grinned wolfishly. "Hiding."

  Good idea.

  Like a big library, the rows of shelving had ladders attached that slid back and forth. The latest year was in the front row. That would make hiding a little difficult because we'd have to duck back into a different row.

  The tags for the year of service were color-coded and little tabs with the medical numbers stuck out on each folder. I started to hand him the cheat sheet with the social security numbers on them, but he must have memorized them. Pretty impressive since I could barely remember my own social security number.

  I sneezed. The dust of the ages was stored down here with the files.

  As Mark pulled the ladder to the appropriate spot, it squealed like a stuck pig. Chills ran across my brain and down my back. "Ugh."

  He handed me the first of the files. I checked it while he repositioned the ladder to search for the next file. The x-rays were present, dated and documented. He handed me the next one. As I took it, I thought I heard a door slam. The doors in the basement and to the basement were big and heavy.

  "Any reason for someone to come in here at night?" Mark asked.

  "How would I know? I've only been working here for a couple of weeks!"

  When in doubt, hide. Mark was at the light switch in a heartbeat, while I headed to the very back of the room. There was no way of knowing what year someone would look for because the files were kept seven to ten years.

  Just as the lights went out, I heard a key in the lock. Miraculously, Mark managed to make it into the aisle with me before the lights went back on.

  My brain had a deja vu moment. Why did I keep finding myself smashed between shelves with this man?

  I could hear another ladder being moved. Unbelievable. Who would need to be in here at this time of night? Of course if someone came in the ER and had a history, I suppose the doctor might want to look up old x-rays. Who else could it be?

  I looked at the ladder for our row. If I climbed it, would I be able to catch a glimpse of whoever had entered? What if they were facing my direction?

  The other ladder being used by the mysterious someone screeched as it was moved again. It then creaked as someone stepped on the rungs. Okay, using the ladder to spy was not a viable option.

  Mark looked at me. I pointed up. He shook his head side to side, but not really in a decisive, "no."

  I shrugged, slumped my shoulders and looked defeated.

  He shook his head and rolled his eyes. Then he squatted down and motioned for my feet. Him lifting me up wouldn't be high enough; sitting on his shoulders might not even do the trick.

  Still, we had to look at the guy, didn't we?

  I put a leg around and half sat on his shoulders. When he stood, it wasn't enough. I was going to have to stand on his shoulders and hope that if we toppled over, whoever was in here would be spooked enough to run rather than investigate.

  I grabbed the nearest shelf to maintain my balance. The old building had numerous creaks and rattles joining in what sounded like someone stepping off the ladder or climbing higher.

  Time to get moving.

  Using the shelves for balance I carefully edged my way up. What would I do if I was seen? Duck back down and hide?

  Sudden movement was out of the question. So was sneezing. Being that close to the dusty shelves made my nose itch. Really, really itch.

  I caught a glimpse of the back of a blond head and a lab coat before a female hand opened the door, held it with her body and hit the light switch without turning.

  The door closed just in time.

  I sneezed. Mark sneezed.

  I lost my balance.

  I grabbed onto the shelving and sneezed again.

  Mark sneezed again, and my left foot slipped off his shoulder even though he was trying hard to steady me. "Eek!" I dangled, grabbing onto the files that were packed in tighter than sardines. In the meantime, I breathed in more dust.

  Close packed files saved me. I found purchase with my fingers just long enough for Mark to get a hold of me.

  "Slide down, I've got you."

  He didn't really, but since gravity was winning, I let go and his hands ran along my legs and halted at my waist. He lowered me to the floor with a grunt.

  I sneezed again. "Ah-choo!"

  "No kidding. Who was it?"

  I shook my head, not that he could see me in the dark. "Not sure. It might have been Holly from x-ray, which would make sense if she got called in. But Crissa is blond too, and she works ER sometimes. If she worked tonight, maybe she was sent for some older records." I thought some more. "It wasn't Attila because she has black hair."

  "Attila?"

  "Sally. The head nurse." I shrugged. "I don't know every blond in the place, and since I don't work nights, there could be people I've never even seen." I tried to decide whether or not I needed to sneeze again before adding, "Whoever it was, she was already leaving so I only saw the back of her head. She had a lab coat with the collar sticking up. I couldn't even tell if her hair was long or short. I think I saw a ring or two when she reached for the light."

  "Wedding ring?"

  "It was shiny...It could have been the key ring hooked around two of her fingers. It looked large." I sighed in disappointment.

  "Let's check the rest of the files and get out of here."

  I nodded. He pulled a flashlight from his pocket. As soon as he switched it on, I picked up the files we had already retrieved, and then waited while he turned the main lights back on.

  He quickly found the next set of files and handed it to me.

  It too had several x-rays stuffed inside. Ugh. People were not very pretty inside.

  "Okay," he said. "They all look legit."

  Brenda must have been wrong. There were x-rays for all three of the patients. They had to have been in the hospital on those dates. Maybe they had come into the ER or she had forgotten seeing them. I certainly couldn't remember which patients were in and on what days. I didn't even remember half of their names once they were gone.

  Mark gestured for the file so he could return it to its place. I stood and stared at the x-ray. I had seen the pictures about three times, once when he first handed it to me, and then again while I was waiting for him to find the next file. I was no expert, not by a long shot.

  "Sedona?"

  I extracted one of the x-rays from the seco
nd file. I held it up to the light, along with the first x-ray. The basement lights were almost as bad as no lights at all. I couldn't tell diddly and that was what was bothering me. "Let's take them. I want Dr. Dan to look at these." It was probably a complete waste of time, but someone with more knowledge needed to inspect them.

  Mark said, "That one in your hand is darker than the other one."

  "The settings are never identical so the shots aren't either." At least that was what my limited training led me to believe.

  "Fine, take them. Let's go." Once Mark was moving, he didn't slow down. We got to the door. He turned out the lights. Then he listened.

  No sound. He opened the door less than an inch and paused to listen again. Going out was more nerve-wracking than getting in.

  Out in the hallway, he walked quickly, wasting no time. Before we exited, he glanced back. I didn't. I didn't want to know if anyone was waiting at the stairs or elevator to watch us depart.

  Chapter 16

  Thursday morning was Christmas Eve. It felt strange to be making lunch and going to "work," because the computer industry shut down for the holidays for at least two days and sometimes for two weeks. Even in college, the school and most related student jobs shut down for the holidays. People like Brenda kept the world running while the rest of us took a break.

  Since Brenda and I were both working this year, Christmas dinner would have to wait until Saturday. I wasn't feeling warm and fuzzy Christmas thoughts as I packed my lunch into a brown paper bag and carefully pasted on my anti-theft label.

  Luckily, when I got to work, things started out on a positive note. Two extra, unused specimen labels were sitting on an abandoned cart near the elevator. I put them in my apron pocket for later use, feeling quite pleased.

  Dr. Burns was at the nurses’ desk about to go on rounds when I came out of the break room. I hoped he hadn't seen me put the bag in the fridge because he was my prime suspect. Luckily, he was distracted by the box of donuts sitting at the nurses' station. I watched as he pulled out an oblong chocolate covered mass of calories and ate it while studying the chart in his hand. He asked Brenda to look something up for him, all the while eating.