“I watered them down,” Ken whispered above the noise.“She shouldn’t be drunk off what I gave her.”
“Christien?”
He turned to Madelaine as her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she slumped over.He quickly caught her and lifted her in his arms.She was limp, her head lolling to the side, her breathing weak.
Christien barreled through the crowd.People parted, staring.Whispers followed him as he made his way to his office.Suddenly Sabine was at his side.
“Call nine-one-one.”Panicked, he shoved his office door open with his shoulder and gently laid her on the leather couch.Kneeling beside her, he took her cold hand in his.
What the hell happened?She was sitting at his bar, drinking a martini.She was safe.Except she wasn’t.Someone got to her and now she was—
No.He wouldn’t think like that.She was going to be okay.She had to be.He rubbed her hand to bring warmth back to it.
“Madelaine?Love?Can you hear me?”
She didn’t move, not even a twitch.Mon Dieu,what happened?
People crowded into his office and he faintly heard Ronald pushing them out until it was blessedly quiet.
Sabine appeared beside him with a look of concern.“What happened?”
“I don’t know.”He watched Madelaine’s chest rise and fall.As long as she breathed, she would be okay.“Bring Ronald in here,” he said.
Minutes later Ronald was at his side, his expression severe.“How is she?”
“Breathing.A man was with her.Red hair, medium height.Jeans.Three-buttoned shirt.Name was John.Sound familiar?”
Ronald shook his head, his forehead creasing in thought.
“I want him found.Have Ken pull the receipts to get a name.”Damn it.Christien remembered him throwing a few bills on the bar.“Never mind.He paid in cash.Try to find him.Ask Ken what he knows.Ask anyone.”
Ronald nodded and hurried out.
The EMTs arrived, pushing Christien out of the way.He stood to the side, his heart in his throat, a primal scream on his lips.He wouldn’t lose her.Not yet.
Not yet, damn it!
Chapter Seventeen
Christien bathed Madelaine’s head with a cool washcloth.Her face was nearly gray but for now she was resting between bouts of violent nausea.He didn’t know how much more her body could handle as it tried to rid itself of the poison.
GHB, the doctors said.Gamma Hydroxy Butrate.Street name G, Gook, Easy Lay, Vita G or G Juice, take your pick.Similar to the date-rape drug, Rohypnol, but more insidious and dangerous.He was told to expect the nausea as well as disorientation, dizziness, unconsciousness and memory loss, but the warnings didn’t make it any easier to watch.
She was in and out, throwing up when she was awake and sleeping fitfully in between.
A rage unlike he’d ever experienced before swirled inside him.He would discover who did this to her and he would kill the bastard.Slowly.He had a bad feeling this John guy wasn’t acting on his own.If they found him, maybe they’d discover who was behind this.
She moaned and her eyes fluttered open, but there was nothing there, no recognition.She was still under the influence, awake but not conscious.
Sabine entered the hospital room.“Ronald wasn’t able to find the John guy.A few people said they saw him leave and head west, but he was gone before Ronald could follow.”
Christien nodded, outwardly calm as he continued to wipe Madelaine’s face, inwardly a roiling mass of fury and fear.He would never get the image of her limp body out of his head.
“Ready my plane,” he said quietly.“As soon as she’s released, we’re leaving.”
Sabine hesitated, then nodded and left the room without the questions he knew she was dying to ask.He would take Madelaine away from here.Away from the danger to someplace safe.The safest place he knew of.
Lainie blinked against the light invading her darkness.Her throat hurt and her bones ached.For a moment she lay perfectly still, afraid if she moved, she’d be sick again.Disoriented, she searched her mind, trying to remember what happened.The last thing she recalled was settling onto the barstool of the club.Had she contracted some sort of stomach flu or had she consumed too much wine?No.Not wine.Something blue.Blueberry martinis.
