Ria dropped her hand to her side, wide eyes turning up to mine. “Was that all she drank?”
“What?”
“That vodka cranberry—was that all she drank?” Her breaths quickened. “Because that wasn’t even a shot’s worth, but she didn’t look right when you got to her outside.”
My brows furrowed. “She seemed fine—”
“No, she definitely didn’t. Brooke doesn’t sweat when she’s mad. She doesn’t get clumsy and drop her keys. She puts on her big girl pants, lowers her voice, and calmly walks away.” Ria furiously shook her head, expression matching mine. “She looked disoriented. You’re sure she only drank the one you made her?”
That falling sensation in my chest morphed into an erratic stomp. Yeah, all she drank was that vodka cranberry. She’d had a Pepsi at Spades, but no alcohol, and Ria was right. Even the vodka cranberry had next to no alcohol in it.
But the image of her grabbing her glass off the coffee table and chugging just before we went to Abe’s office flashed behind my eyes. How many wolves had walked into that room when the fight broke out? Half a dozen?
“Someone spiked her drink.” My shaking hand lifted, rubbing down my beard. “We-we need to go look for her car. Maybe she-she—”
“If she’s in a ditch somewhere, I’ll fucking kill you.” Ria reached to a hook on the wall, tossed me a pair of keys, and said, “Start my car.”
* * *
I wasn’t sure if I was most afraid of what Ria would do to me if we didn’t find Brooke, what was happening to Brooke, or if she’d kill us both driving seventy in her beat up van on the backroad Ria said was Brooke’s route.
Holding the assist grip for dear life as we rounded a bend, I retraced last night for the thousandth time. Who came into the room when I was fighting Tommy? I hadn’t been paying attention—I wasn’t sure. I didn’t know them all by name either.
But who would drug her?Whywould anyone drug her? I was right there—they had to have known that was a good way to get their ass beat.
“Shit,” Ria said, slamming the brakes, sending me forward into the seatbelt. “Shit, shit, shit.”
Brooke’s navy-blue Corolla was parked haphazardly at the edge of a gas station parking lot.
My heart fell through the seat below me as Ria pulled an illegal U-turn into the lot. Before she had the chance to shift the car into park, I’d already released my seatbelt and jumped out.
I darted to the driver’s side and stopped cold before I reached the door.
A pile of vomit rested on the pavement. And—as gross as it may sound—the smell assured me that it was Brooke’s.
I grabbed the handle and yanked it open. But if Brooke would’ve gotten out willingly, that door would’ve been locked.
“Someone took her.” Ria’s voice was quiet, but riddled with panic. “Shit. Shit, someo—”
I jogged to the door of the gas station; Ria close at my tail. It was empty aside from the guy behind the register chugging a cup of coffee. “Did you see who got out of that car last night?”
“Pardon?”
“That car.” I pointed out the window. “The driver. She was here last night, and no one’s—”
“What the hell are you doing?” the man asked, walking around the counter, looking toward the door. “You can’t just—”
“That was twelve hours ago. Doubt you were on shift that long, but your cameras had to have seen it.” Ria clicked the lock shut and spun the blinds down. “You’re going to show them to us.”
He started toward her. “To hell I—”
“I’m gonna need you to hold him down while I cast, Declan.” Ria took a few steps in.
Was it morally questionable? Sure. Did I care? No.
I bolted behind him, hooked an arm around his neck, and grabbed his flailing arm in place with the other. He was older and barely bigger than Ria. It wasn’t a difficult task.
Drawing close, chanting beneath her breath, Ria lifted her pointer finger to the center of his forehead and drew a shape I couldn’t make out from where I stood. The moment that image was finished, he stopped writhing in my arms.