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medical notes for Doctor Wainright, but as he neared her desk, he heard the pop music leaking out from the ear plugs and saw she had a magazine open.

He leaned on the counter. “Shelly Horton, I presume?”

She looked up, and her eyes suddenly went from bored to alert. She flapped the magazine shut and flashed him a brilliant smile as she pulled the plugs from her ears.

“Hi there, sorry, can I help you?”

“I think so.” Mitch smiled back, even though he didn’t like the idea of his potential new receptionist ignoring patients; he guessed if the practice was quiet, then he could cut her some slack.

“I’m Doctor Michael Taylor; is Doctor Wainright about?”

She rose to her feet. “Michael, Doctor Wainright, yes, yes, he is.” She stuck out a hand and leaned forward over the desk counter, making the front of her uniform strain. “I’m your receptionist, Shelly Horton.”

“Nice to meet you, Shelly.” He shook her hand and she held on. “Pretty quiet, huh?”

She nodded vigorously, still holding onto his hand and coming around the desk. “Some days, yes. The Eldon folk here are generally a pretty healthy bunch. Unless it’s flu season.”

“Well, that’s no good.” He grinned and eased his fingers free. “How am I supposed to make a living if no one ever needs a doctor?”

She giggled, and her eyes flashed at him. She pointed one slim finger toward a side door. “Would you like me to get him? Doctor Wainright?”

“Sure. I just arrived so I’m only popping in to say hello for now.”

“Then hello.” She waved with both hands and smiled broadly. “I’ll wake him up.” She headed to the consulting room door and leaned closer as she rapped twice. “Doctor Wainright?”

“Come.”

The voice was deep but weary, and Shelly waved him on as she pushed open the door. She poked her head around to check and whisper to Wainright, and then held the door wide.

As Mitch stepped inside, Wainright rose to his feet. He was slim, stooped, and slightly grey-faced, with a thin, aristocratic nose. But his smile was warm, and though slightly rounded at the shoulders now, Mitch bet that once the 79 year old would have been a tall and striking man.

Mitch crossed to him quickly. “Ben, so nice to meet you face to face at last.”

“Likewise,” Wainright said, shaking his hand. The hand and fingers were soft, and the bones felt like sticks under the papery skin. He stood there examining Mitch for a few seconds more before releasing his hand.

“I’m glad you came.” He stared into Mitch’s face as his smile fell away to become a deadpan expression. “Mitch, everything I did here, I did for the benefit of the Eldon community.” He straightened his narrow shoulders. “But I guess history will be my judge.”

Mitch frowned a little. “I, ah, think it’ll be the judge of all of us.”

Wainright grunted and turned to his room. “Just tidying up some redundant files for you.”

Mitch saw that there were neat piles of folders and filing cabinets hanging open. All except one; tucked away in a corner was an older wooden cabinet, solid, and the only one with a padlock on it.

Ben saw where he was looking. “Don’t worry about that one, as I plan on cleaning it up later. It’s just historical information about something that happened here nearly half a century ago.”

“The Angel Mine?” Mitch guessed.

Wainright’s head whipped around for him to stare again. After another moment, he simply nodded once.

“Yeah, the mine disaster.” Mitch shrugged. “I read about it. A dark day. The mine flooded; quite a few deaths, wasn’t there?”

“There were indeed. But that was in 1908.” Ben turned watery eyes on him. “But this was a localized event from the seventies; just some details of residual cases of skin irritations and other things from the mining chemicals of the day still hanging around. Nothing important.”

“I understand there was some resulting affliction called Angel Syndrome,” Mitch pressed, recollecting a few references when he was doing his research on Eldon. But there was no real description of what that even meant. “I’d be happy to look it over, just to…”

“No.” Wainright’s voice cut across him. “It’s done with now.”

Mitch raised his eyebrows. “No big deal.” He turned back to look at the old cabinet again.

“We should have blown that damn mine up,” Wainright muttered.

“Huh?” Mitch turned back, not sure he heard right, but Wainright waved it away, signaling the conversation was closed.

“This way, Doctor.”

“You never told me, Ben,” Mitch asked, deciding to change the subject, “what you plan on doing after you’ve retired. Have you got family around these parts? Going traveling, or just going to spend more time fishing?”

Ben Wainright shook his head wearily. “No, I’m tired. I think I’ll just go back to where I came from.” He looked Mitch in the eyes. “I’ve been waiting for you for a long time. Thank you for coming in, Mitch.”

“Oh okay.” Mitch shrugged. “My pleasure.”

That didn’t make much sense, he thought. He only just got the job. He guessed Wainright was waiting on someone, anyone, to take over.

The old doctor steered him toward the door. “I’ll finish up now.”

“Guess I’ll see you at the mayor’s this weekend,” Mitch said brightly.

“Enjoy the practice.” Wainright ushered him out and headed back into his office, leaving Mitch and Shelly alone.

“Where he came from?” He turned to Shelly. “He’s been here all his life, and he’s going home? To where?”

She shrugged. “I’ve worked with him for two years, and he keeps a lot to himself. Most do around these parts. We mind our own business. It’s what we Eldoners do.”

Mitch nodded, and then turned. “Hey, did you ever hear of the Angel Mine, or Angel Syndrome?”

Her lips pursed for a moment. “Nope.”

“Okay, forget it.” He gave her a little salute. “Nice to meet you, Shelly, and see you soon.”

CHAPTER 04

Mitch headed out and down the front path, still thinking about the Angel Mine. He’d read a few historical reports and also some old newspaper clippings that

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