kids in college and a beautiful lake home in the mountains. They’d enjoyed relaxed conversation and good food, washed down by an excellent bottle of wine. Yet when the night was over, Jess felt a dread like she hadn’t had since her last date with a man—the fiasco with Emory didn’t count—almost twenty years earlier. No matter how nice he was, she felt no spark and had no desire to kiss him good night, and feared he might try to plant a big wet one right on her lips. So, when they pulled into her driveway, she fled the car as soon as it stopped and told him she’d call him. She wouldn’t. Once inside, she’d settled into a bath and thought about the county coroner, a very nice butch she’d met on several occasions in the ER.
Wendy, the coroner, had asked her out. It was common knowledge that Jess had lived with Ward, and common knowledge that Ward was gone, also common knowledge that Jess was dating again. Jess had told Wendy she’d think about it, and she had. Day and night. Wendy was adorable, with brown hair cut short and blue eyes that sparkled with mischief. She owned a funeral home, which she’d inherited from her father, and lived above it, just around the corner from the Victorian Jess was renting. In addition to seeing her on those unfortunate occasions when her services were needed in the ER, Jess had seen Wendy walking Cleopatra, her energetic little poodle. They chatted, and on mornings when Jess wasn’t scheduled in the ER, she’d started taking her morning coffee on the front-porch swing just so she could see Wendy and Cleo as they walked by. Almost always, Wendy lingered, and the day before, Jess had asked her in for breakfast. She’d accepted, and now they had a date scheduled for that very night.
Jess was delighted and excited and nervous all at the same time, looking forward to her evening with Wendy more than anything since she’d come to the mountains. Yet she had to tell Ward. Somehow, the dates with Emory and John the accountant didn’t seem like cheating, but going out with another woman did. Jess needed to be sure Ward understood her, because she didn’t need any more guilt where Ward was concerned. She already felt like shit because of their breakup, because of the way she’d treated Ward, even though Ward’s binge had precipitated it.
Moving her computer’s mouse, Jess clicked on the appropriate box and Ward’s file appeared. Before her the screen lit up with the results of the spinal-fluid analysis for toxins. No cocaine was in her system, nor marijuana or any other of the typical drugs of abuse. The alcohol level was minimal. Not what Jess had expected. Even more shocking, though, was the positive result for flunitrazepam, more commonly known as Rohypnol, the date-rape drug.
Roofies typically rendered women comatose and vulnerable, but like most drugs, sometimes people had strange reactions to them. Intense violence after use of Rohypnol had been reported, and Jess suspected that was just what had happened in Ward’s case. It explained everything. Yet it explained nothing.
Why the fuck did she even order the test? She’d wanted answers, not more questions when she’d asked Dave in the lab to run the tox screen on Ward’s spinal fluid. She’d always felt uncomfortable about that night. First, Ward’s totally uncharacteristic violence. Then, George’s hesitance in answering the question about her alcohol intake. Finally, the quick and easy solution her father and Em had concocted to solve the problem. She’d gone with it, and she was ashamed to admit that getting Ward out of her hair had been what she wanted. Yet she suspected she’d betrayed Ward just to solve her own problems, and that guilt had eaten at her since. So much so she’d ordered the testing. Now that she had the answer, what did she do?
Jess closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. What the fuck was this about? It made no sense. How did that get into her system? Why? According to what they’d told
Wendy, the coroner, had asked her out. It was common knowledge that Jess had lived with Ward, and common knowledge that Ward was gone, also common knowledge that Jess was dating again. Jess had told Wendy she’d think about it, and she had. Day and night. Wendy was adorable, with brown hair cut short and blue eyes that sparkled with mischief. She owned a funeral home, which she’d inherited from her father, and lived above it, just around the corner from the Victorian Jess was renting. In addition to seeing her on those unfortunate occasions when her services were needed in the ER, Jess had seen Wendy walking Cleopatra, her energetic little poodle. They chatted, and on mornings when Jess wasn’t scheduled in the ER, she’d started taking her morning coffee on the front-porch swing just so she could see Wendy and Cleo as they walked by. Almost always, Wendy lingered, and the day before, Jess had asked her in for breakfast. She’d accepted, and now they had a date scheduled for that very night.
Jess was delighted and excited and nervous all at the same time, looking forward to her evening with Wendy more than anything since she’d come to the mountains. Yet she had to tell Ward. Somehow, the dates with Emory and John the accountant didn’t seem like cheating, but going out with another woman did. Jess needed to be sure Ward understood her, because she didn’t need any more guilt where Ward was concerned. She already felt like shit because of their breakup, because of the way she’d treated Ward, even though Ward’s binge had precipitated it.
Moving her computer’s mouse, Jess clicked on the appropriate box and Ward’s file appeared. Before her the screen lit up with the results of the spinal-fluid analysis for toxins. No cocaine was in her system, nor marijuana or any other of the typical drugs of abuse. The alcohol level was minimal. Not what Jess had expected. Even more shocking, though, was the positive result for flunitrazepam, more commonly known as Rohypnol, the date-rape drug.
Roofies typically rendered women comatose and vulnerable, but like most drugs, sometimes people had strange reactions to them. Intense violence after use of Rohypnol had been reported, and Jess suspected that was just what had happened in Ward’s case. It explained everything. Yet it explained nothing.
Why the fuck did she even order the test? She’d wanted answers, not more questions when she’d asked Dave in the lab to run the tox screen on Ward’s spinal fluid. She’d always felt uncomfortable about that night. First, Ward’s totally uncharacteristic violence. Then, George’s hesitance in answering the question about her alcohol intake. Finally, the quick and easy solution her father and Em had concocted to solve the problem. She’d gone with it, and she was ashamed to admit that getting Ward out of her hair had been what she wanted. Yet she suspected she’d betrayed Ward just to solve her own problems, and that guilt had eaten at her since. So much so she’d ordered the testing. Now that she had the answer, what did she do?
Jess closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. What the fuck was this about? It made no sense. How did that get into her system? Why? According to what they’d told
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