Page 90 of Death at a Scottish Halloween

“I’ll help him, you take this back to the lab.”

“Am I dying?”

“Not on my watch. It just feels like it.”

I stuck a thermometer in his ear. It was over 102.

“Do I have fever?”

“Yes, and it’s miserably high. With that costume on, you were sweating so much you’re dehydrated, which is making you feel even worse. Give me an hour, and I promise you’ll be feeling much better.”

Abigail came back with a wheelchair.

“I’m not that sick.”

“Until we get that temp down and fill you up with fluids, you do what I say. Neither of us wants to pick you up off the floor if you faint.”

“I’ve never fainted,” he said grumpily. But when he stood up, he tilted to the left. Abigail shoved the chair under him just in time. “Oh,” he said.

“Right. We’re taking you back to one of our suites, where you’ll be spending the rest of the night so we can keep an eye on you.”

“But the bakery.”

“You’re going nowhere near it. If your team can’t handle it, you’ll have to close. If it’s what I think it might be, you’re very contagious. Nothing kills a business faster than making others sick, right?”

He crossed his arms and pouted. He had a great work ethic, but this time he had to listen to me.

As we entered the back wing of the building where most of the labs and scans were, something dinged.

“You get that, I’ll put him in bed.”

She nodded.

The suites were just large enough for a hospital bed, a side table, and a few machines and IV stands. Abigail had everything set up. Finding a vein wasn’t easy. He was way too dehydrated.

“I can do that,” Abigail said. She handed me the iPad with the results.

“Strep,” I said.

His eyes went wide. “What? How?”

“It’s going around town,” I said. “You’re one-on-one with the public. I’m not surprised.”

“Hurts,” he said. He pointed to his throat.

“I have something for that. Like I said, give us an hour. You’ll feel much better. But you need to rest.” Abigail set up the IV, while I found the antibiotics and pain relievers. I added a throat spray to my basket. We’d have to order more, since we were nearly out.

Sure enough, an hour later, he was calm and could barely stay awake.

“You’re staying here tonight. Once we have your fluids back up, we’ll see how it goes. You can get some sleep.”

By the time we’d finished, it was only nine-thirty. I was beat. But also anxious. “I’m going to change. Feel free to take the guest room,” I said.

“I’m going to stay back here with him,” she said. “In case he wakes up and needs something.” She was a great nurse and an even better friend.

“Do you have a change of clothes? I have a feeling you’re going to get cold.”

“I do. I keep some here in my desk.”