“I think Russ Van Alstyne wants to speak with you,” she said.
“Hmm? The chief? Where? I didn’t know he was at this meeting.”
“He wasn’t. Wednesday’s his regular patrol night. He’s just come in.”
“You know his schedule?” Paul looked at her, bemused.
“I’m good with schedules. Natural gift. Go on.”
Paul rose with a groan. “Probably one of the Alzheimer’s patients wandered off again.”
Clare resisted the urge to follow the nursing home director, although she was unable to keep herself from swiveling around to see what was happening. Russ looked serious. Grim. Washed-out beneath the fluorescent lights, despite his tan. He removed his steel-rimmed glasses when Paul reached him and took hold of the larger man’s shoulder, drawing him close. A thread of unease coiled through Clare’s stomach, then tightened sickeningly as Paul abruptly twisted away from Russ and sagged against the wall.
She was out of her chair and excusing herself down the crowded aisle by the time Russ caught her eye again, urgently jerking his head in a summons. Paul was leaning on the town-hall bulletin board, his face turned toward a pink paper announcing summer dump hours, his huge fists clenched and shaking.
“What is it?” she said quietly. “What’s wrong?”
“Emil,” Paul said. “Attacked.”
She looked up at Russ. “Emil?”
He put his glasses on. “Emil Dvorak. Our coroner.” His thin lips flattened. “A friend of mine. He was found a while ago on Route 121. Looks like his car hit something and went off the road.” Russ pinched the bridge of his nose beneath his glasses. “He was attacked. Beaten bad. He’s in the Glens Falls Hospital right now.” He tilted his head toward Paul. “Emil is Paul’s, um, friend.”
“Dear God.” Clare pressed her hand against Paul’s shoulder, then pressed closer, draping her other arm across his back. “Oh, Paul. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” She had known Paul lived with someone, but he had never mentioned anyone by name in their conversations at the nursing home. She looked at Russ. “We came to the meeting together. I’ll take him to the hospital.”
“I can get there. I’m okay,” Paul said in a reedy voice, an oddly small sound coming from such a big man. Clare’s heart ached. He straightened up and looked around as if he had never seen the town hall before.
“No, Clare’s right. You shouldn’t try to drive, Paul.” Russ ran his hand through his shaggy brown hair. “I have to stop at the station.” He looked down at Clare. “Can you find the Glens Falls Hospital?” She nodded. “Okay, I’ll meet you there.”
Russ held the door open for them as Clare steered Paul out of the meeting hall. Despite the hot air rolling off the street below, she shivered as she caught Russ’s last, whispered direction: “Hurry.”