Page 152 of Power of the Mind

When I disconnected and analyzed the conversation for where I’d gone wrong, I felt like an ass. Business expense. Fuck. It was not what I meant. I wanted to call him back and correct my error, but it was too late. Plus, how did I explain to Tallus he meant more than that when I could hardly admit it to myself?

***

Doyle sat across from Tallus and me. We’d secured the same booth as before. Vanessa wasn’t working, and the prepubescent boy taking her place needed fewer holes in his head—he was pierced to the point of concern. Lip, nose, septum, tongue, eyebrows, anti-eyebrows, bridge, several in his ears, one that looked like a dimple, and another in the divot above his chin. I counted fifteen, and if he didn’t want me to stare, he should consider his life choices.

Doyle slapped a sheet of paper onto the table between us. It was an information fact sheet from the Drug Enforcement Administration. “Ever heard of kratom?”

“No.” I drew the page forward and scanned it. Tallus pressed his body against my shoulder to read as well. His scent filled my nose.

Doyle explained. “Kratom comes from a tropical tree native to Southeast Asia. Its leaves can be chewed, smoked, brewed in tea, or dried and ground to fill gelcaps like the ones you found. When consumed, it can produce a stimulant or sedative effect, depending on dosage. It can lead to psychotic symptoms and dependency. In Southeast Asia, it is known by many nicknames, kratom being the most widely used. The scientific, medically known term is mitragyna speciosa, and its abuse in North America is on the rise. It is not regulated under the Controlled Drugs and Substances Act, so it’s technically not illegal to possess, but that does not imply that it is safe.”

I stabbed a section of the information sheet a few paragraphs down, interrupting Doyle. “It says cases of psychosis resulting from the use of kratom have been reported. Individuals addicted exhibit psychotic symptoms including hallucinations, delusions, and confusion.”

“Holy fuck,” Tallus breathed by my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. It was distracting enough that I wanted to shrug him off, but I also didn’t. I’d been craving contact from him for over a week and missed how the man invited himself into my bubble. “That’s exactly the kind of behavior Amber and Allan’s family and neighbor reported.”

“Here’s the thing,” Doyle continued. “It’s unregulated, yes. It’s listed as a drug of concern, yes. The federal government hasn’t banned kratom, but restrictions for import have been implemented. If it’s believed the intent is ingestion, the drug can be confiscated. Health Canada has not approved it as a natural health product or medication.”

Tallus pointed to a section on the form, reading, “It can cause minor side effects like nausea, drowsiness, tachycardia, vomiting, seizures, and it goes on and on.”

“Yep,” Doyle said. “And according to an associate, when mixed with other drugs, it can be fatal. Because it has an opioid effect, it’s often abused by individuals who are trying to come off opioids because they think it’s a safer bet. The problem is, kratom is also highly addictive and dangerous in its own way.”

“So it’s used for pain control?” Tallus asked.

“I imagine so.”

I felt the heat of Tallus’s gaze on the side of my face. His breath against my cheek. My heart kicked, and a blistering sweat beaded my forehead.

“D.”

“I know.”

The people Hilty had been treating had gone to him because of chronic pain of one kind or another. Migraines, diabetic neuropathy, arthritis. They would have all benefitted from a drug of this sort if it was presented. Sally would have known the type of person to look for.

I focused on Doyle because I sensed he had more to say.

“Your eleven deceased individuals all had medical issues,” he said, reading my mind.

“Yeah.”

Doyle nodded. “I talked to my associate at the lab. Considering the number of prescription drugs most of them were taking, she felt it was highly probable, if mixed with kratom, that the combination could result in heart problems and possible death like what we saw in their autopsies.”

“I knew it. And,” I prompted when he paused.

“And since kratom, or mitragyna speciosa, isn’t something our labs typically test for, they’re rerunning tests on those eleven people.”

I sat back, feeling oddly validated. Ever since Tallus presented me with Amber’s case, and we’d listened to her brother describe her behavior, I’d said it was drug-related, and I was right.

Tallus spoke. “We can track down the other people, ask them if they’ve been given—”

“Cool your jets, hotshot. This is my case now.” Doyle drew the fact sheet toward him.

I was about to say something unsavory when Tallus pressed a hand to my thigh. “We can help, though, can’t we?”

Doyle eyed Tallus as he folded the sheet in half, then in quarters, tucking it inside his shirt pocket. “I won’t get results overnight. If the autopsies prove they were taking this substance, I have no way of proving how they got it. They could have purchased it themselves online. It’s not hard to do. The bags full of pills seem to prove someone is dealing, but unless I can put these specific bottles into their hands, I’ve got nothing. It doesn’t matter that they all saw the same doctor. It’s irrelevant.”

“The other people from the files,” I said, steering back to what Tallus had been about to say. “What if they know something or have the same pills in their possession? They could name your dealer.”

“It’s still a sticky situation. Technically, it’s not cocaine or heroin, and again, a shared doctor means nothing. Those people are alive. There is no crime. No judge would listen based on that evidence alone. The crime only applies to the deceased. Even then, it’s sketchy. The most I could charge a dealer with is negligent homicide, maybe manslaughter, and they could easily plead ignorance since the drug isn’t regulated.”

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