Free In the Land of Milk and Honey by Jane Jensen Page B

Unfortunately, the toxin works fast. The CDC says it can kill within twenty-four hours. If patients don’t know to seek treatment—”
    Or won’t. Like the Amish.
    â€œHave you seen any other cases at this hospital?” I asked. “Amber had to have gotten the milk that made her sick from a local farmer.”
    The doctor shook his head. “I’ve been on since eleven, and I checked with the nurses. We haven’t had any cases in the past twenty-four hours at least. Or if we did, we didn’t know what we were looking at. That’s what scares me, Detective Harris. Because it would be easy to diagnose this as flu if a GP didn’t do the blood work. Sending a patient home with the advice to rest is the worst thing they could do.”
    â€œI understand.” By now, sleep had fled and I was alreadyorganizing in my mind. I had to speak to Glen Turner and Grady. They needed to make some kind of public statement and soon. And it was bad news that no other patients had appeared at Lancaster General. Someone else local had to have gotten sick from the milk Amber was selling, if only the farmer’s own family. If they weren’t coming into the hospital, they could die.
    â€œWell, I’ll send out an e-mail to all our doctors and staff so we can be looking out for it,” Dr. Ambati said.
    â€œThank you. As soon as I get a chance to speak with the CDC liaison, I’ll let him know what you said. Would it be possible to see Amber now?”
    â€œYou may. Though I’m not sure when she’ll wake up, or how cognizant she’ll be when she does.”
    I looked at my watch. “I’ve got nothing better to do until at least six A.M. ”
    â€œVery well. This way.”
    â€”
    I dozed off again in the chair next to Amber’s bed. A crick in my neck woke me. The light of sunrise was just appearing outside the window. I looked at the figure in the hospital bed. In the dim light of the room, Amber’s eyes were open. They were a deep brown, and they glistened with tears.
    â€œHey.” I leaned closer. “Do you need me to call a nurse?”
    â€œWhere am I?” Amber whispered.
    â€œLancaster General. You’ve been very sick. We found you in your apartment and called an ambulance to bring you here.”
    Amber snuffled a breath, as if she would normally get upset about that but she was just too damn tired. She started to close her eyes.
    â€œ
Amber.
I’m Detective Harris with the Lancaster Police. It’s very important that I speak to you.”
    Amber’s eyes opened again, but they were hazy and unfocused. “Me?”
    â€œYes. You got sick from raw milk. And so did a number of people in Philadelphia who bought milk from you at Tuesday’s farmers’ market.”
And some of them died.
I didn’t think that would be helpful information at the moment.
    Amber’s eyes widened. “No. That’s not possible.” There was disbelief in those eyes, and pain. In Grady’s rundown he’d mentioned that Amber was twenty-nine, only three years younger than I was myself. But right now she looked childlike and completely adrift.
    It might not be protocol, but I took Amber’s hand anyway. It felt clammy and limp, completely lacking in strength. “I’m afraid it is. It’s very important that you tell me where you got the raw milk you sold on Tuesday. Others may get sick if we don’t find the source.”
    Amber swallowed. Her eyes searched the bedside table. There was a glass and a small pitcher of water there, so I poured some and helped Amber lift her head and shoulders off the bed and take a sip. Even that much effort exhausted her, and I laid her back down when her strength gave out. There was a miasma of heat and stale sweat and something bitter coming off her. God,she was sick. No one should be this ill, not from eating or drinking something they thought was good for them.
    Amber