Page 149 of Power of the Mind

“He’s not my…”

Doyle smirked when I couldn’t finish the sentence.

“I know Hilty isn’t involved.”

“But do you? You don’t know exactly how these pills—if they’re anything—got into those people’s hands—if they even did—and you can’t exactly ask them since they’re dead.”

A thought struck. “They aren’t the only ones.”

“What do you mean?”

“Over half the people in the stack of files we retrieved are still alive. We could—”

“The stack of files you confiscated illegally by breaking and entering.”

“It doesn’t fucking matter how I got them. The point is, we can still talk tothosepeople. Can you have the substance tested? If it’s fucking ground grass, then the whole thing is fucking pointless anyhow. But if I’m right, and it’s something toxic your lab doesn’t typically test for, it could be the answer to why eleven people are dead.”

“Christ, you swear like my partner.”

“Test it, Doyle. You have the means. I don’t.”

“And if it’s toxic, it would mean rerunning labs on all those people.”

“Yes.”

“That’s a mighty big ask, Krause. I’m unsure I can convince anyone to agree to that expense on a whim.”

“It’s not a fucking whim. If I’m right, it’s murder, and more people are at risk. Do you want your golden ticket or not?”

Doyle grew quiet as he ate. He knew I was right.

“All we need to do is find out what’s in those pills. Maybe the rest won’t matter.” I stuffed a fry into my mouth. “Or maybe it will.”

Vanessa came by to see how we were doing. Maybe she sensed the tension or overheard our raised voices, but her smile was strained.

“Do you do takeout?” I asked, my tone unintentionally snappy.

“Of course. What did you need, sweetie?”

I placed a second order for a turkey club wrap and fries to go, knowing Tallus probably hadn’t eaten since his saltine and peanut butter snack the previous night. Since I was so close to headquarters, I figured I might as well drop off food, or he would have the same insubstantial lunch.

“Do you make lattes?” I asked when Vanessa was about to walk away.

“We sure do.”

“One of those to go when I’m ready, and a peanut butter cookie if you have any. If not, something sweet.”

She winked and said she’d take care of it.

When Vanessa left us alone again, Doyle met my eyes with a knowing smirk.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” I snapped.

“Sure. Keep telling yourself that.” Doyle tossed his dirty napkin on his plate. “I’ll have someone test these pills, and we’ll go from there.”

“Thanks.”

“If it’s something toxic, who am I arresting?”

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