“Oh, my goodness, Savannah.” Abigail comes rushing in his room with a homemade medical bag, then pulls out a thermometer and sticks it in Savannah’s ear.
Savannah moans again and tucks her knees to her stomach, her breathing growing shallow.
“No fever. Cole, should we move her to her bedroom?”
“No, this situation stays here until we know what’s making her sick.”
“The doctor should be here any minute,” Keith chimes in.
“Okay, boys, give me five minutes so I can get her into something dry, please.”
Cole pulls out a black t-shirt and hands it to Abigail before walking into the private hallway with Keith.
“I want you to keep this whole thing quiet for now, Keith.”
“Of course.”
“Did she say anything to you?”
“She kept saying she needed to leave.” He shakes his head. “She was talking to someone earlier, but I couldn’t see from my post. It got heated with whoever it was—she caught my attention when she shouted. I watched her leave the deck and walk down to the boat house. She stumbled as she reached the chair. I thought perhaps she had too much to drink, so I let her be. But then she fell forward and collapsed on the deck. By the time I got there, she was vomiting hard and was white as a ghost. I’m sorry I didn’t move her, but—”
“No, you did the right thing.” Cole thinks for a moment. “I want to know who she was talking to, and if you hear anything at all, I want to know about it immediately.” Who would have opened their fucking mouth?
“Of course.” Keith disappears down the hallway.
“When did the symptoms begin? Did anyone notice?” the doctor asks, his expression serious.
“She was fine when I brought her lunch at noon. She said she was just tired.” Abigail looks pale.
“She seemed fine when she came to talk to me around eleven,” Cole adds, wracking his brain, trying to remember if she seemed different. “At dinner, she seemed fine too. She ate a little.”
“Anything to drink? Alcohol?”
“No, she’s not a big drinker,” Cole says, crossing his arms.
The doctor draws her blood then tucks it carefully into his bag.
“Do you think it’s the flu?” Abigail asks impatiently.
“No, I don’t think so. If I was to guess, I’d say she either has food poisoning or she ingested another type of poison.” Abigail gasps as Cole balls his hands into fists and tucks them tightly against his sides.
“No one else is sick.” Abigail looks horrified. “We all ate the same thing. I made dinner.”
Cole squeezes her shoulders. He would never think anything but the best of Abigail.
“Then perhaps something she drank.” The doctor slides the IV into the top of her wrist. “Someone could have slipped something in it.”
Savannah moans quietly as the needle pokes her skin.
“It’s all right, sweetheart. This will keep you hydrated.” Cole fights the urge to comfort her.
The doctor looks up at Cole. “Do you have any bottled water that hasn’t been opened?”
“Yes.” He moves swiftly to his mini fridge and hands him one. He watches as the doctor measures out a tablespoon of charcoal into eight ounces of water.
“In,” the doctor checks his watch, “fifteen minutes, the anti-emetic shot I gave her for vomiting should kick in. Get her to drink all of this.” He stands and places the bottle on the table. “I’m going to get this blood to the lab. She’s stable for now, but if she gets worse before I return, call me immediately.”
“How long until the results come in, Dr. Rice?” Abigail moves to Savannah’s side and rubs her arm gently.