The Plague Doctor. E. Joan Sims
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and retrieved the door key. The room inside was sparsely furnished. A wooden table had been placed in front of a large window in the corner. That was the sunniest spot in the whole place. The rest of the living room and the smaller adjoining bedroom, really only an alcove, was shrouded in shadows and gloom.
Cassie pulled me over towards the table by the window where some expensive computer equipment was neatly arranged. Most of the stuff was state of the art and very sleek and compact. The computer itself was a laptop like mine, but newer and with more memory. The printer was a dilly—small and portable, it looked more like a ladies black plastic purse. There was also a scanner and something very unusual on the floor next to the table—a paper shredder. I wondered if the sisters Parsons had rewired the place for all of Ethan’s electronic goodies.
Cassie turned on the computer, and I sat down in a rickety old wooden chair next to her to observe as she tentatively pushed buttons.
“I think I’ve done it right. I wish I weren’t so nervous.”
She wiped her palms on her jeans and typed in Ethan’s password. I didn’t ask and she didn’t tell me what it was. The screen flashed with a network logo, and then the letters “CDC” and a menu. Cassie read each selection carefully before she made her decision.
“Here we go.”
She moved the mouse and pointed at one of the titles on the screen.
“Infectious Diseases Branch of the NCEH.”
Another menu popped up and she breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m in, Mom. Now I’ll just type in his e-mail password and his user ID, and then I can send the message to his supervisor. Damn!”
“What, what?”
“I made a mistake…wait, there I backspaced…okay!”
Dr. Ethan David McHenry’s mailbox opened up like a neon rose. There were at least thirty entries, but Cassie ignored everything except the messages from a Dr. Eloise Haywood.
I was surprised that his boss was a woman. I had assumed that like most government agencies, the CDC was an old boy’s club. I can be sexist, too.
Cassie moused over to the most recent message from Dr. Haywood and clicked. A brief message flashed on the screen.
“Ethan, here’s the info you requested. State’s getting antsy. Try to have something concrete for us ASAP, but CYA. E.”
“Now Mom, here’s the part I’m not sure about. He said just ‘reply.’
Where is…?”
I squinted at the top of the screen and saw it as soon as she did.
“Aha!”
Another mousey click and the screen changed again. She got busy on the keyboard and typed in Ethan’s message.
“Doing fine. Wish you were here. Hot on the trail. Let you know soonest. AC. E.”
“That’s it? That’s the big message? That had to be sent this morning?”
“Please, Mom, don’t freak on me. I have to exit the right way, or I’ll mess up.”
I stood up and stretched my weary limbs. I was worn out and fed up. “Freak? Freaking message, that’s what,” I huffed under my breath.
I glanced out of the window and saw one of the Misses Parsons peeking in Watson’s windows. Just at that moment, she turned and caught me staring back at her. I gave her a goofy grin and waved back, then, impetuously, I grabbed all of the floppy discs I saw on the table and stuffed them into my big leather handbag.
“Quick, Cassie, unhook the modem and the laptop and put them in my bag. We’ve got company.”
Chapter Five
I descended the narrow staircase with as much dignity as I could muster. The old woman was standing next to Watson, her tiny little foot tapping out staccato displeasure on the brick driveway.
“Miss Hannah?”
“Heavens, no! It’s Lolly you’re talking to. I’m Lolly Parsons. Who are you?”
I made a silent invocation to my grandmother’s spirit and asked for help with this nosey old bag. The last thing in the world we needed was for her to call the police.
“I’m Paisley Sterling…John and Anna’s first child.”
“Paisley Sterling. I remember you. You used to tease my cat. I never did like you.”
I tried to smile but my lips were dry and they stuck to my teeth. “Oh, I am sorry about that. Children can be a nuisance sometimes. I’m sure I was a holy terror. How is your cat now?”
“Dead.”
“Oh.”
Cassie came bouncing down the wooden stairs with my leather handbag slung over her shoulder. She looked like she didn’t have a care in the world.
“Hi, Miss Lolly. My, don’t you look pretty today. Have you been to that beauty shop again?”
She gave the little old woman a quick peck on the cheek.
Miss Lolly beamed from ear to ear as she gave her cap of tight white curls a proud pat. I watched in amazement as she deftly avoided my gaze and smiled fondly at my daughter who was no more Southern than a turnip, but had learned from observing her grandmother how to walk the walk and talk the talk.
“Cassandra, dear, how nice to see you. Won’t you come in and have some tea? Hannah has made some of that orange walnut bread you like so much.”
“I do wish I had time, but Mom and I…have you met my mother, Paisley DeLeon?”
Miss Lolly sniffed suspiciously, “I thought she said her name was Sterling.”
They went on discussing me as if I were not standing there like a display room dummy.
“Sterling’s her maiden name. My grandmother is Anna Howard and my Grandad was John Sterling. You remember them?”
“Why of course I do, child. They were fine people and so was your great-grandmother Howard. She was a good friend of mine when we were schoolgirls. And your great-grandfather was a fine figure of a man.”
A faint blush covered her wrinkled old cheeks. “But I’m sorry to say,” she went on, “your mother was nothing like any of them. Bad seed, she was. Used to torment my poor Mr. Whiskers.”
She glared in my direction. I smiled until my cheeks hurt but Cassie laughed. Pretty soon they were both laughing. Miss Lolly hid some very bad teeth behind her skinny old hand as she tittered away at my expense.
I grabbed my leather handbag from Cassie, almost dropping it because of the unexpected weight of Ethan’s electronic goodies, and headed for Watson. I heard Cassie wisely covering our tracks as I climbed in the driver’s seat.
“Looks like Dr. McHenry is not at home. I’ll be back later, and we’ll both come in for some of that wonderful bread. Tell Miss Hannah not to eat it all.”
She gave the old bag a gentle hug and hopped in beside me. I stomped childishly on the gas and the tires squealed as we took off.
“Whew! Looks like we got away with it. Head for home, Mom!”
“Humpf.”
She started laughing again. “Mr. Whiskers! What did you do to her cat? It must have been something really awful for her to hold a grudge this long.”
I chuckled then. It was good to see Cassie laugh, even if it was at my expense.
“I spray painted him from head to tail.”
“Oh, my God, Mom. That is awful. The poor thing!”
“I know.” Now I couldn’t stop laughing.
“I probably shouldn’t ask, but what color?”