Rusty Nail

“I was hoping for a glass of champagne,” the reverend said.

“Go hope for it somewhere else.”

Antwerp, looking confused, walked back to his car.

“Hurry!” McGlade said. “There’s a wascally wabbit stowing away on your spaceship!”

“Oh, dear!” Antwerp hurried.

Holly dug into Harry’s car, coming out with a large cooler. She set it on the lawn and removed two bottles of champagne, an open carton of orange juice, some plastic cups, and two packages of bologna.

“Harry, this is all you packed for lunch?”

“Ah, shit. I forgot the raspberry Zingers. Sorry, babe. Maybe we can grab a bite somewhere local. In fact, I think I’ve got a take-out menu.”

Harry pulled something out of his pocket. He handed it to Holly, and she squealed.

“Paris! Harry, we’re going to Paris!”

“Plane leaves tonight, cupcake. Which will give us plenty of time to get loaded beforehand. Mix the mimosas, Phin! I’ll pass out the bologna.”

Phin opened the champagne and poured.

The first toast was to Harry and Holly, may they live happily ever after.

The second toast was to Holly, may she stay out of prison.

The third toast was to Phin, whom Harry called his new best friend.

When McGlade raised his glass the fourth time, I was in his sights.

“To the best cop I’ve ever met, a woman who is twice the man I’ll ever be. Jack Daniels.”

The alcohol must have hit him pretty quick, because he was slurring. It must have hit me as well, because McGlade’s words touched me, and when I reached over to pat his shoulder, everything got blurry.

“Something’s wrong.” Phin shook his head, like a dog drying off. He backed away from the table and dropped to his knees.

I stared at Holly. She was staring hard at her plastic glass. Then her eyes rolled up into her head and she fell to the ground.

McGlade reached for her and he also fell over.

Drugged. We’d been drugged.

My thoughts were all scrambled, like a drunken dream, but I knew I had to call for help. My cell phone was in my car. I tried to walk to it, but I couldn’t feel my legs, and every step I took, my car got farther away.

“Jack…”

Phin held out a hand to me, then collapsed face-first onto the ground.

I kept walking, but I forgot where I was going. The car. But why? What was so important about the car?

Sleep. That’s what I needed to do. I needed to sleep.

I fell to my knees. Then to my butt.

This spot looked comfortable. Nice and grassy and comfortable. I could sleep here, no problem.

I laid my head on my arm and curled up my legs.

So nice to finally sleep.

When I closed my eyes, it was to the sound of someone laughing.

CHAPTER 40

“HEY, LADY, YOU okay?”

I’d been having a disturbing dream, where I was tied to a chair at a di

Opening my eyes, I stared up at a cop with a fu

I startled, wondering how he got into my bedroom. Then I realized my bedroom didn’t have trees in it, and my bed wasn’t made of grass. I sat up. The action made me dizzy, and provoked an unhappy reaction in my stomach.

The ranger gri

“Where am I?” My voice sounded strange, far away.

“Busse Woods. I’m going to check your friend.”

I watched him walk over to a woman lying on the ground a few yards away. Holly.

I touched my temple, which had begun to throb, and looked around. Spotted a cooler on a picnic table, a bottle of champagne next to it, a carton of OJ, two packages of bologna…

The wedding.

A nice surge of adrenaline helped cut through the fog, and I remembered toasting to Harry and Holly, and then realizing we’d all been drugged.

I craned my head around, searching for Harry and Phin.

They weren’t there.

I saw Harry’s car in the lot, along with mine. My watch told me it was a little after six o’clock. I’d been out for over five hours.

The ranger was having some difficulty rousing Holly.

“Is she alive?”

“Pulse is strong, but she won’t wake up.”

I felt like curling up and going back to sleep myself. It wasn’t a pleasant sensation; more like a fever dream that accompanies the flu.

I managed to get to my feet and began to walk to my car, a little unsteady, but better with every step.

My cell phone was plugged into the cigarette lighter. I needed to call Harry, to find out where he was.

The message light blinked at me. I dialed my voice mail.

“Jack, it’s Captain Bains. Lorna Hunt Ellison escaped from custody this morning, and then grabbed Bud Kork at Mercy Hospital. Six cops, two Feds dead. A few miles away the Indiana Highway Patrol found an abandoned FBI vehicle. No sign of either perp. It might be a long shot, but there’s a chance they could be headed your way. Stay on your toes.”

Yeah. Some long shot.

I wondered how they found me. Tailed me from my apartment? Possible. I was so high from Latham’s call, I could have had a dozen Abrams tanks following me and wouldn’t have noticed.

But if Lorna and Bud were after me, why’d they let me go?

Another adrenaline spike, which made my hands shake.

They took Phin and Harry.

I tried to reason it out. Lorna escaped, went to get Bud, and then came to Chicago. They followed me here from my apartment, and probably watched the ceremony from the forest. Then one of them snuck into Harry’s car and doctored the orange juice we used for the mimosas. The drug was probably Rohypnol, or GHB, or some other easily obtainable tranq currently popular on the nightclub date-rape scene. Odorless, colorless, and a tiny amount could take effect within ten minutes and knock out a bull.

Bud must have assumed Holly was a cop, my partner. They might have also assumed Phin was my boyfriend.

They wanted to hurt us by hurting our men.

But how did they find my apartment? And how did they find tranquilizers so quickly after escaping?

And how did Lorna, who had the IQ of a te

Apparently I’d misjudged her.

“What’s going on?” The ranger had awoken Holly, who appeared to be panicked. “Where’s Harry?”

“Take it easy, miss.”

“Jack? What happened, Jack?”

I gave my head a brisk shake, but the fuzzies clung to me. I managed to get over to Holly without falling on my face.

“We were drugged, Holly. Bud Kork escaped, with his girlfriend. I think they’ve got Phin and Harry.”

Holly stared at me, her mouth hanging open.

“My husband…” she whispered.

I reached down and squeezed her shoulder.

“We’ll find them, Holly. I promise.”

“But will they still be alive when we do?”