Immediately afterward, a radio blared in the waiting room. Loud, hip-hop music. She wasn’t alone. The first man had stayed behind, waiting for Dr Smeltz. She knew that the doctor would only need ten or fifteen minutes to make his way back to the clinic. She needed to be gone before he arrived.

Peach scrambled out from under the desk. She could still smell the mildewed aroma of sweat the men had left behind. Her instinct was to make an immediate break for the rear exit that led to the alley, but she still hadn’t found a file for Diane Fairmont. Dr Smeltz didn’t keep her file with his other patient records, but she realized that was no surprise. He would keep the records separate and secure. Even so, she didn’t think he would keep the file offsite, in case he needed to access the information. There was only one room in the building that had a heavy door and a secure lock. That was the drug closet ten feet away from her.

The lock that opened with the combination 0630.

Peach wasted no time. She turned on the office light again and quickly keyed the buttons to gain access to the storage room. Inside, with a quick review of the room, she found herself disappointed. There were no filing cabinets. No lock boxes. The room was lined with metal shelves that were stocked with pharmaceuticals and medical supplies. She saw nowhere to hide files. Her face fell. The clock was ticking, and she needed to go.

Then she spotted a red metal chest shoved into a corner. It was two-feet by two-feet and twelve inches high. She’d almost missed it, because boxes of gauze and bagged patient gowns had been stacked on top of the lid. A small padlock latched the chest shut, and a handwritten sign had been taped to the front. The sign read, in bold black letters: BIO-HAZARD.

She stared at it, frowning. Why would a hazardous materials chest be covered up with supplies? Why a handwritten sign? She knew Dr Smeltz. He wasn’t fussy about a lot of things, but he was particular when it came to the safety of his practice.

Peach crossed the room and used a hairpin to pop the tiny padlock. She shifted the clutter off the chest, undid the latch, and opened the heavy metal lid. There were no used needles or contaminated waste inside. Instead, the chest was empty except for two thick file folders.

One folder was labeled DIANE (HEMPL) FAIRMONT.

The second was labeled DREW HEMPL.

Peach stared at the folders and thought: This is wrong. However, she’d already left the line between right and wrong far behind her.