Debba was very still. Clare suspected she had never considered herself as the sort of woman another person needed a restraining order against.

“And restraining order or no, I don’t want to see you within two blocks of the clinic or anywhere near Dr. Rouse. In fact, if you so much as jaywalk in the next few months, I’ll haul you in and see if some jail time will help you to think before you act.” He hooked his thumbs in his pants pockets. “Are you going to be okay to drive yourself home? If you’re feeling too shaky, Officer Flynn here will be glad to give you a ride.”

“I… I…” Looking back and forth from Russ to Kevin to Clare, Debba started to cry again.

“Yeah, I thought so. Kevin, take this lady home, make sure she gets in safe, and come back to fetch me.”

“Yes sir.”

Clare grabbed her parka and made to follow Kevin and Debba out the ladies’ lounge door. Russ snagged her by the arm. “Reverend? A word?”

“Busted,” she said under her breath.

He crossed his arms. “Not that I don’t have the greatest respect for your people skills, but next time you see me talking a potentially dangerous person down, stay the hell out of it. Okay?”

“Debba Clow was not potentially dangerous.”

“Yes. She was. And you’re just going to have to yield to my more extensive experience on this.” He pulled his glasses off and rubbed them against his uniform shirt. “There’s a certain look. Don’t ask me to describe it. I just know it when I see it. Someone goes over the line and is willing-is going to do something scary.” He replaced his glasses. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

“Oh! Mrs. Marshall!” She whirled and banged through the door. Russ followed. “I completely forgot about her.” She rattled down the stairs. “Mrs. Marshall? Are you-”

“Here I am, dear.” The elderly woman came out of the office, still in her Republican cloth coat and velvet beret. “I didn’t know what was going on, but I thought I had best stay out of the way.”