Page 81 of At Midnight Comes the Cry
“Tiny,” Clare said, and all at once the whole thing was there in her mind and memory. “Cal!” She tried to grab Margy’s arm, only to catch against the blanket. “Cal took Rose!”
“That’s what we figured. Poor girl, she was a wreck. Not that I can blame her.”
“Amber Alert?”
“She wouldn’t let me.” Margy shook her head. “I’m afraid I didn’t argue very much, and for that I’m sorry. I was focused on you and Ethan, and getting the ambulance, and then Officer Knox called about Russell and it just seemed easier to let her stay in the house and sort herself out.”
“She’s there? My car?”
“I thought of that. Your keys are safe in my purse.”
“Call Lyle. Check on her.”
“Have them send a car over? There’s an idea. Maybe if she talks to an officer in person…” Margy let the sentence fade away.
The sheet was pulled aside by a cheerful woman who could have been mistaken for a rock climber or hiker if not for the large ID readingDOCTORhanging from her neck. “Hi, Clare. I’m Helen Roberts.” She smiled at Margy. “I’m going to check her out, but you can come back as soon as I’m done.”
Dr. Roberts consulted a beeping device behind Clare’s range of vision and made a satisfied sound. “We can get this off you.” She reached under the blanket and ripped away an EKG sticker Clare hadn’t even realized was there.
Clare hadn’t been tested for a concussion before, but the next twenty minutes or so felt familiar. The doctor examined her pupils, asked her to repeat a few sentences, and stepped away to see if she could hear a pinging noise. She had to recite her name, phone number, and retell what had happened to her. When she got to the part about a man with a gun, Roberts’s eyebrows flew up. “Don’t see much ofthathere.”
“You haven’t been here long.”
Kyle came in and helped Clare into a johnny gown, and then, over Clare’s protests and pounding head, the doctor had her sit up, checking her knee reflexes, and asked her to stand. The nurse helped her out of bed and kept close by as she took a few steps, turned around—slowly—and touched her nose. “It’s like a sobriety test, isn’t it?” He grinned.
“Not going to ask you how you know that, Kyle.” The doctor tookClare’s arm. “Let’s get you back in bed and covered up again. We’re going to keep you overnight for observation.”
Mercifully, before she left, Dr. Roberts judged Clare’s circulation good enough for intravenous pain medication. The nurse left for the prescription as Margy was coming back in. Clare discovered raising her eyebrows questioningly also made her head hurt.
“I’ve got good news and bad news.”
Clare felt a wave of déjà vu. Lyle MacAuley’s same words had kicked off this whole awful afternoon. She still made the same choice, however. “Good news.”
“Russell is doing much better.”
“Good,” she said. “Good.”
“They’re keeping him overnight in Elizabethtown for observation. I’m going to head up there right after our visit.” She oh-so-gently brushed Clare’s hair off her forehead. “Next time, try to at least get admitted to the same hospital, huh?”
Clare tried to laugh, but it hurt too much. “Okay. Bad news.”
Margy took her hand. “Lyle sent a car over to my house. Clare, I’m sorry, but Tiny’s gone.”
14.
His truck was back in Millers Kill, so Paul Terrance picked Russ up Wednesday morning for the short drive to the sheriff’s office. Last night his mom had brought him fresh clothes from the skin out, and even with the hospital’s medicinal-smelling soap and shampoo, he felt cleaner than he had in a week.
He was desperate to get home to his wife and son, to squeeze his little family tight in his arms and not let go until Ethan was in high school. But duty first, as it had been his entire goddamn life, and if there was anything that underlined and bolded his decision to retire, this was it. No more. He’d do his part to stop these bastards, and then he was out.
The young officer who led them to the conference room greetedhim with great deference. He hoped it was due to his sterling reputation, and not the fact she was worried about the old guy who got slipped a mickey.
They were seated, and accepted coffee, just in time for the door to open. Lieutenant Pelletier and a deputy entered, the latter carrying a laptop. Russ had met Pelletier several times before, and had always considered him a smart and sober peace officer.
“Russ, glad to see you upright and healthy.” They shook hands.
“Thanks for the rescue. If you hadn’t gotten that warrant, God knows how long I would have been bagged up there like a Christmas turkey waiting for the oven.”
Pelletier shook his head. “Happy to help.” He nodded toward his deputy. “You were up close and personal for several days; I’m hoping you can ID some persons of interest for us.”
