the police, particularly Ethan, often assisted Brooke with her self-defense classes, but Abby had no idea her friend was on a first-name basis with the police chief.
Mike held out a hand toward Abby. “Police Chief Mike O’Connell. You can call me Mike. Most people do.”
Abby half-stood and shook it.
His red hair grayed at the temples, and his nose had a previously smashed look. But as tough as his exterior appeared, his eyes were a soft shade of sympathetic and worried blue. He sat opposite Brooke. Ethan closed the door and took the seat across from Abby.
Brooke cocked her head. “What’s going on?”
Ethan’s mouth flattened out. He met Abby’s eyes. “When the chief and I went through your car, we found your seat adjusted to its farthest position from the dashboard. I could barely reach the pedals. There’s no way you could have driven the car like that. Now it’s possible you moved the seat accidentally while you were trying to get out of the car.”
Impatient, Abby interrupted. “You told me all this the other day.”
Ethan frowned. “We also found your half-empty sports drink bottle in the car.”
“I drink Gatorade before and after I run,” Abby explained. Why did it matter how she hydrated for a workout? But next to her, Brooke tensed.
The police chief’s gaze flickered to Brooke for a second. His expression went grimmer as his attention refocused on Abby. “On a hunch, we had the contents tested.” He softened his voice. “Your Gatorade came back positive for GHB.”
“What?” Brooke’s upper body shot forward. “That’s impossible.”
“What’s GHB?” Abby asked.
Brooke turned to her, anger radiating from her eyes. “GHB is like Rohypnol.”
Shock swept over Abby. “Are you saying I was roofied? Like in The Hangover ?” Who would do that to her? And why? She’d been at work, not a wild Vegas bachelor party.
Ethan grimaced. “Sort of. Rohypnol or roofies are a different drug. Street names for gamma-hydroxybutyrate or GHB are ‘grievous bodily harm’ and ‘salty water,’ among others. But the effects are similar.”
The chief nodded. “In small amounts, GHB is a steroid alternative used by bodybuilders to enlarge their muscles. In larger doses it’s a sedative. It’s usually a clear liquid, generally odorless but salty. Typically, it’s slipped into alcoholic drinks in bars or parties, but a sports drink already has a salty taste that would also easily mask the GHB. We used to see more Rohypnol, but GHB is gaining popularity. Probably because it can be cooked up at home with floor stripper and drain cleaner.”
Disbelief hollowed Abby’s chest, as if someone had squeezed her dry. “And someone put this in my sports drink.” Her voice sounded as flat and empty as her chest. So much for starting her life over.
“Yes. Immediate signs of GHB ingestion are lack of inhibitions, loss of muscle coordination, nausea, sedation, and amnesia. The next day, symptoms might mimic a hangover or flu. Nausea, vomiting, or increased sweating are common as your body recovers from GHB poisoning.”
Brooke leaped to her feet and paced the narrow space behind the chairs. “I should have thought of drugs. Damn it. You had textbook symptoms all weekend.”
The chief shook his head. “Brooke, you know that, out of context, those symptoms can be confused with a concussion or virus. None of us suspected this. If Abby had been out at a bar or party and woken up with the same symptoms, you would have pegged it right away.”
Brooke took two rapid steps and pivoted. “Who would do that to Abby and why?”
“That’s what we’re going to find out,” the chief said. “According to the report, it’s a good thing you only drank half the bottle. If you’d have finished it, you wouldn’t have woken up and gotten out of the car.”
Panic gripped Abby’s insides. She put a hand to her stomach. “I drank paint thinner and drain cleaner. Those are poisonous. Are there any permanent
Mike held out a hand toward Abby. “Police Chief Mike O’Connell. You can call me Mike. Most people do.”
Abby half-stood and shook it.
His red hair grayed at the temples, and his nose had a previously smashed look. But as tough as his exterior appeared, his eyes were a soft shade of sympathetic and worried blue. He sat opposite Brooke. Ethan closed the door and took the seat across from Abby.
Brooke cocked her head. “What’s going on?”
Ethan’s mouth flattened out. He met Abby’s eyes. “When the chief and I went through your car, we found your seat adjusted to its farthest position from the dashboard. I could barely reach the pedals. There’s no way you could have driven the car like that. Now it’s possible you moved the seat accidentally while you were trying to get out of the car.”
Impatient, Abby interrupted. “You told me all this the other day.”
Ethan frowned. “We also found your half-empty sports drink bottle in the car.”
“I drink Gatorade before and after I run,” Abby explained. Why did it matter how she hydrated for a workout? But next to her, Brooke tensed.
The police chief’s gaze flickered to Brooke for a second. His expression went grimmer as his attention refocused on Abby. “On a hunch, we had the contents tested.” He softened his voice. “Your Gatorade came back positive for GHB.”
“What?” Brooke’s upper body shot forward. “That’s impossible.”
“What’s GHB?” Abby asked.
Brooke turned to her, anger radiating from her eyes. “GHB is like Rohypnol.”
Shock swept over Abby. “Are you saying I was roofied? Like in The Hangover ?” Who would do that to her? And why? She’d been at work, not a wild Vegas bachelor party.
Ethan grimaced. “Sort of. Rohypnol or roofies are a different drug. Street names for gamma-hydroxybutyrate or GHB are ‘grievous bodily harm’ and ‘salty water,’ among others. But the effects are similar.”
The chief nodded. “In small amounts, GHB is a steroid alternative used by bodybuilders to enlarge their muscles. In larger doses it’s a sedative. It’s usually a clear liquid, generally odorless but salty. Typically, it’s slipped into alcoholic drinks in bars or parties, but a sports drink already has a salty taste that would also easily mask the GHB. We used to see more Rohypnol, but GHB is gaining popularity. Probably because it can be cooked up at home with floor stripper and drain cleaner.”
Disbelief hollowed Abby’s chest, as if someone had squeezed her dry. “And someone put this in my sports drink.” Her voice sounded as flat and empty as her chest. So much for starting her life over.
“Yes. Immediate signs of GHB ingestion are lack of inhibitions, loss of muscle coordination, nausea, sedation, and amnesia. The next day, symptoms might mimic a hangover or flu. Nausea, vomiting, or increased sweating are common as your body recovers from GHB poisoning.”
Brooke leaped to her feet and paced the narrow space behind the chairs. “I should have thought of drugs. Damn it. You had textbook symptoms all weekend.”
The chief shook his head. “Brooke, you know that, out of context, those symptoms can be confused with a concussion or virus. None of us suspected this. If Abby had been out at a bar or party and woken up with the same symptoms, you would have pegged it right away.”
Brooke took two rapid steps and pivoted. “Who would do that to Abby and why?”
“That’s what we’re going to find out,” the chief said. “According to the report, it’s a good thing you only drank half the bottle. If you’d have finished it, you wouldn’t have woken up and gotten out of the car.”
Panic gripped Abby’s insides. She put a hand to her stomach. “I drank paint thinner and drain cleaner. Those are poisonous. Are there any permanent
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