She said something to Trent, probably a variation on theI really need more wine tonightline that she’d planned to tell him, and Jules caught the wordlosers.
“Losers didn’t get any wine tonight,” Shel translated, “so this will have to do to take the edge off.”
Trent laughed as Sadie again smiled at him, but then, clutching his jacket more tightly around her, she crossed the patio toward the house.
He didn’t follow her, thank God, and Jules let out the breath he was holding, as yes, Rod was paying attention, good man. He managed to hot foot it up the stairs and through the kitchen door ahead of Sadie. Like Jules had done for Belle, he’d stay in the kitchen until she went back outside.
“Motherfucker,” Hobbit whispered, and Jules realized that Trent had sat back down at the table, but this time, instead of sitting on the table top and facing the house, he was on the bench that faced the backyard’s expanse of lawn, directly in front of the solo cup that Sadie had put back on the table. Trent’s back was to both the house and the rest of the partygoers on the patio, clustered around the keg and the kitchen steps.
He was, however, directly facing Jules and his crew—and the video camera.
“Shelly,” Jules whispered.
“I’m getting it,” she whispered back. “I’m in on him, close.”
Because, using his body as a shield to keep his actions clandestine to everyone whowasn’thidden in the bushes, Trent took something—a small paper envelope, or maybe it was just a piece of paper, folded up—and opened it, dumping some kind of powder into Sadie’s beer.
“Oh, I got that,” Shelly whispered. “Motherfucker.”
“Premeditated,” Hobbit whispered. “He ground that shit up in advance.”
“Yeah,” Jules said.
“We got him,” Belle elated, but then immediately questioned herself, “Did we? Is that enough?”
“Not quite. Meg, you ready with the jar?” Jules asked.
“I am,” she whispered.
Shelly had cleaned and even sterilized both an old jelly jar and its lid because Jules was pretty certain they’d need as much evidence as they could get in order to successfully prosecute Trent. And preserving a sample of the beer he’d spiked to bring to a lab to test it for flunitrazepam was key.
At the table, Trent slightly swirled the beer in Sadie’s cup. Mixing it in well. Motherfucker, indeed.
“Remember, our primary goal is to get that beer in the jar, lid on tight,” Jules whispered. Because it would be much too easy for Trent to destroy the evidence, simply by dumping it out or knocking it over.
“We should also grab that piece of paper or envelope or whatever it was,” Tom said, as Trent stuck it back into the right front pocket of his jeans.
Jules nodded. “Good idea. Traces of the drug might still be on it.”
“Here she comes,” Hobbit warned, and indeed, Sadie came back out of the house. Rod was just a few beats behind her, but instead of crossing the patio toward Trent, he went to the keg.
“Oh, I hope Trent hands that cup to Sadie,” Jules whispered, because really, wouldn’t that say it all? Being able to show, on video, Trent putting the powdered substance into the beer and then placing the cup directly into the hands of his targeted victim...
“Here we go,” Shelly said and yup, this was it. Trent swiveled on the bench, putting his left leg over on the other side, essentially straddling it as he heard Sadie approaching.He held out the cup—yay!—and Sadie took it from him with a big smile, because she, too, knew this was a big win.
“Thanks,” she told Trent, but then, instead of sitting down beside him, she went around the table. Moving faster but clearly being careful not to spill the beer, she booked it across the lawn, directly toward the brush where they all were hidden.
“Let’s do this, let’s go,” Jules said, pushing himself up and leading the way out of their hiding place. Hobbit was right behind him. “Meg’s got the jar,” he shouted to Sadie, who nodded and headed for the girl, who was scrambling to her feet.
Trent had at first been bemused but it turned now to full alarm as he saw them—including Shel with the video camera. She had it held up to her eye as she backed away a little to include Trent in her shot, too.
Her main focus was Sadie, who was now pouring the beer from that red solo cup into Meg’s jar. Shel’s job was to keep that cup in the center of her frame at all times—from the moment Trent had poured that powder into the beer.
Trent was running toward them now, clearly with the intention of blasting himself into Sadie and Meg, to knock them over and spill that spiked beer.
Jules saw Rod, also running toward them, but there was no way he could catch Trent before he made contact. So Jules did the only thing he could—which was throw himself between Trent and the girls.
Trent was bigger than he was—nearly everyone was—but Mr. H had been adamant about the fact that that would mean little in a fight, as long as Jules was properly prepared.
