“Yeah, sorry. How is my brother?”
“Better. The doctor was right. He’d been injected with a cocktail containing enough fentanyl to kill a horse. He administered Narcan, which reversed the overdose. But Theron has a drug problem. You should think about what you want to do. He won’t be able to walk away from this. He’ll need professional help.”
“Rehab?”
“Yes. I can take care of it if you need me to. I know a very good, very discreet facility.”
“Where?”
“Just outside of Santa Barbara.”
Santa Barbara. Good. Far enough away that I won’t have to worry about him coming near Mercedes as I deal with this other mess. “Do it. Anything on the men who attacked him?”
“Still working on that.”
“Jesus. What a fucking week.”
“I’ll let you know about Vincent Douglas as soon as I can.”
“Thank you.”
There’s a pause. “Just one thing. Your brother is asking to see you.”
“I’ll think about it. Right now, my priority is Mercedes.” At the mention of her name, I hear movement in the bedroom. I peer in through the open crack and see Mercedes is waking. “I’ll talk to you later.” I disconnect the call and reenter my bedroom.
“Good morning,” I say.
She looks at the window. “Night, I think.”
I follow her gaze and nod. “How are you feeling?”
“Tired.” She scratches her head, looking around.
“Headache? Anything? Do I need to have the doctor return?”
She shakes her head. “I’ll be fine.”
I sit on the edge of the bed and hand her the glass of water there. She takes a sip and hands it back. “Drink it all, will you?”
“I’m fine, Judge.” She tries to get out of the bed, but I stop her and hold the water out. “Fine.” She rolls her eyes but drinks, then hands the empty glass back to me.
“Have you had to use it before? The EpiPen?”
“When I was younger but I’m really careful.” Her forehead creases, and I’m not sure if she’s embarrassed or scared. I consider how much to tell her. “I eat beignets from there all the time. They know about my allergy.”
“It happened. Just try to forget about it. Probably just an accident.”
“The EpiPen in my purse didn’t work, Judge.”
I was hoping she wouldn’t remember that part, but the EpiPen was tampered with. I wonder how long ago that had been done. I don’t have to ask who did it. Miriam is missing. She left most of her things behind and took off. Her fingerprints were on the EpiPen although we all handled it, so it was kind of a mess. Ezra has men looking for her.
“I ordered more. I replaced the one in your bag. Put two in there in fact. Solana and Georgie have more as well. Just in case. I’ll be keeping them in the cars and Lois has several in the kitchen. There will always be extra—”
“Judge,” she says, stopping me. I watch as she pushes her hand through her hair, soft waves of it falling over her shoulders when she releases it. “Did someone tamper with it?”
“It was probably just faulty.”
“Those things aren’t faulty.”
“Either way, you don’t need to worry about that.”
“Yeah, I kinda do.”
I clench my jaw.
“You moved me in here before that happened. You’ve got security around me like I’m the Queen of England. What’s going on?”
“Miriam is gone, Mercedes.”
“Miriam?”
“I know what she did to you. The paperweight. I know you weren’t lying, and I’m sorry I doubted you.”
Her eyebrows rise, but it’s not in an I-told-you-so way. More just in surprise. Probably from my apology. I think this is the first time I’ve apologized to her.
“I confronted her a little while ago,” I tell her. It won’t hurt her to know this.
“Why did she do it? I mean, she and I never really liked each other but fuck. She really hurt me.”
I clear my throat. I’m not ready to tell her that part just yet. Because that secret would unravel far too many others.
“I don’t know,” I lie instead.
She studies me. “You think she messed with the EpiPen too?”
“I suspect so.”
“But she’s gone now. What does that mean exactly? Gone like Theron or…”
“I have men looking for her.”