Page 80 of At Midnight Comes the Cry
“Roofied,” one of the deputies said. “With something strong.”
Pelletier turned to Hadley. “This is the place, right?”
“Yes!” She looked around at the trampled ground. “There were tents, small camping tents, and a big one, and one with a kitchen in it. The chief said there was a latrine.”
The lieutenant looked down at Van Alstyne. “They didn’t want him to see what they were doing, but they didn’t want to kill him.” He surveyed the empty space around them. “He wouldn’t still be out if they drugged him twenty-four hours ago. They must have decamped last night.” He tugged one glove off. “That’s… disturbingly organized.”
There was a nudge against her side. Paul. “You okay?”
The relief that had buoyed her for a few minutes seeped away.“What the hell do we do now? They weren’t just playing soldier up here; one of those men killed your uncle.”
The ranger’s face was grim. “We get your chief down to a hospital. And we hope like hell he learnedsomethingto help us. Because otherwise, we’re right back to where we started. With nothing.”
13.
The baby was screaming: high, persistent, far away. On and on. She tried to get up, but she was so cold. Where were the blankets? She tried one more time, and then she was rolled, and there was the quilt. The screaming stopped. Russ had taken care of it. She fell back asleep.
Clare woke again to glaring light. She tried to shield her eyes, but her arm was covered with a weighted blanket. All of her was covered in a weighted blanket. She became aware of two things at once: she was naked, and she had a headache worse than the time she took part in a Deke drinking contest at UVA. But she wasn’t nauseous, she was cold. She shivered, and the shivers turned into whole-body shaking.
“Hey.” A strange young man smiled down at her. “That’s good. Let’s up the heat.” The blanket over her—and under her, she realized—flushed warmer. Her shaking subsided. The young man reappeared. “Feel better?”
“Mmm.”
“I’m Kyle. I’m your nurse. Do you know where you are?”
“Hospital?”
“That’s right, you’re at the Washington County Hospital. You’re being treated for hypothermia. We’re warming you up gradually, so you’re going to get cold again. When you do, let me know, and I’ll make the blanket warmer.”
“Head hurts.”
“I bet it does. You had a pretty bad hit on the back of your head. You got stitches in the ED, and the doctor’s going to check you for a concussion when you’re feeling a little better. Once your core temperature’s risen above thirty-five C, we can give you some pain medication.”
“Baby?”
The nurse frowned. “You had a baby with you?” He disappeared from view for a moment. “Oh, the lady who brought you in had a baby with her. Hang on a sec, I’ll see if we have the okay for her to come in and see you.”
Clare closed her eyes. Sometime later—it could have been minutes, it could have been hours—she heard Margy’s voice. “Hey, sweetie.”
Clare opened her eyes.
“How’re you feeling?”
“Awful. Ethan?”
“I called Janet after I got here.” Clare’s sister-in-law. “I didn’t want to expose him to any more germs floating around than I had to.”
Clare blinked in acknowledgment, then thought, why Janet? Why not… “Russ?”
“He’s in the Elizabethtown hospital. He had to get his stomach pumped and IV hydration.”
“What?” Clare tried to sit up. The ache in her head became a clapper of pain, tolling back and forth as if her skull were a bell. She groaned.
“I know, I know. I sure didn’t expect to be the closest relative for both of you on the same day. I swear, the two of you are going to put me into cardiac arrest.”
“Why… did he need his stomach pumped?”
Margy pressed her lips together. “Those militia people he was trying to spy on gave him a bunch of drugs to knock him out. Why on earth he’s getting involved with investigations when he’s retired, I’m sure I don’t know. At least you helping out that poor girl I can understand. Women need to look out for each other.”
