Page 116 of At Midnight Comes the Cry

“Don’t worry. Your sister told me Mike’s bringing over a whole roast beef when he comes.”

The Northway was fast and clear, just a few cars with wreaths hanging off their hoods or reindeer antlers over their windows. Even the Albany Medical Center looked festive, with aides wearing Santa hats and elf ears, and secretaries in jingle-bell necklaces. As they entered the elevator to the step-down unit, Clare caught sight of a pile of elaborately wrapped presents beneath a tree in the lobby. She sucked in her breath and clutched Russ’s hand.

He squeezed back. “We may have to make it our tradition to leave all our gifts unwrapped.”

“Agreed.”

They paused outside Paul Terrance’s room. Russ sniffed. “Is that… Peking duck?”

They entered, to find Yíxin Zhào sitting in the easy chair next to Paul’s bed, an array of soups, dumplings, savory pancakes, and, yes, duck spread out on his rolling table.

“Well.” Clare grinned. “I always wondered what Chinese people ate on Christmas.”

Yíxin unfolded herself from the chair and walked over to give them both a hug. “I’m trying to convince my family to go out for burgers and fries on the Lunar New Year, but it’s an uphill battle.”

“Hey.” Paul’s voice was weak, but cheerful. “Glad to see you two. How’s Hadley and, um, Kevin?”

“She’s working today, but sends her love.” Russ shook his hand, cautious not to dislodge the taped-on IV. He dragged the lone wooden chair toward the bed and motioned for Clare to sit, before hoisting himself onto the window ledge.

“May I?” Clare reached for a scallion pancake.

“Please. Yíxin overestimated my appetite a bit.”

“My mom believed stuffing me with food was the cure for everything.” Yíxin plucked a dumpling from its box.

“Even a gunshot?” Paul laughed thinly.

“She’d add ginseng root and an acupuncture appointment for that.”

Russ shifted. “Have you given your statement to the Albany PD?”

Paul nodded carefully. “Though I didn’t have much to add. I was in and out of it after getting shot.” He glanced at Yíxin. “I mostly remember her screaming and sobbing and throwing herself on me.”

“I felt sorry for you. A lonely man who lives like a bear in the woods.”

He smiled a little. “You know, that’s my clan sign. The bear.”

Russ leaned forward as if he was going to fall off the window ledge. He stared at Paul. “The bear.”

Paul nodded. “The bear.”

Clare looked at Yíxin, puzzled, but the lawyer shrugged. “I also gave my statement, thanks for asking.”

“Did you get in trouble with your boss?” Russ leaned over her shoulder to grab a piece of the duck.

“He wasn’t very happy to find out I’d been running an unauthorized investigation using confidential legal files. But once theTimes-Uniondid its big story and featured a profile of me, he calmed down.”

Clare was impressed. “I missed that. They did a profile of you?”

“Yep.” Yíxin popped the dumpling in her mouth.

“However did they know to approach you?” Paul’s question was suspiciously exaggerated.

“Tipped off, I guess.” She raised her hands. “It’s a mystery.”

“Speaking of which.” Russ switched to his serious voice. “I’m sorry we weren’t able to get confirmation of who killed your uncle.”

“Pretty sure whoever it was died in that crane. I’m satisfied.” Paul paused. “Reasonably satisfied.”