Page 37 of False Evidence

“Ah. Don’t be that way, babe. We can still have fun tonight.”

“I want to go home. I need to study.”

“It’s winter break. Relax.”

“I need to start in on next semester’s reading.”

“I hardly think there’s going to be a major development in theoretical physics in the next few weeks.”

She was studying theoretical physics? The woman must be wildly smart. And this prick intended to drug that beautiful brain? His hand curled into a fist. Bringing the cops in was the right thing to do, but JT sure wished he could break Spaulding’s face first.

He pulled out the BlackBerry again and moved slowly, as if he were heading to the bar while reading. He was a mere three feet away when Spaulding picked up his drink and held it out to the blonde in a toast. “To second chances.”

“I don’t give second chances.” Her voice was silky smooth. Not intentionally sexy, but alluring, nonetheless.

JT stopped and stared at the BlackBerry as if he’d just gotten a long email he needed to read.

“Fine. I’ll take you home after you finish your drink.”

“You aren’t taking me home.”

“So you’re staying at the hotel with me tonight?”

“Not a light wave’s chance in a supermassive black hole.”

“Oh. It’s sexy when you talk about things being supermassive.”

She snorted. “Just give me money for a cab, Russ.”

Spaulding took a drink as he nodded to hers, which she hadn’t touched. She let out a sigh of impatience and raised the glass.

JT stepped forward and touched her wrist, stopping the glass’s trajectory to her mouth. “What are you drinking?” he asked.

She startled, looking at him like he was nuts. She pointed to the sprig of fresh mint. “A mojito.” Her tone conveyed the unsaid word,dumbass.

He smiled. “The Cuban drink? Is it any good?”

Spaulding frowned but didn’t appear fazed. “I’m sure the bartender can make you your own.”

“But I want to try this one first.”

Spaulding’s eyes widened. The blonde looked confused.

JT gave Russ Spaulding a feral grin. “Or better yet, why don’t you drink it, Russ? I’ll get the lady a fresh drink.”

Spaulding bolted to his feet, causing his chair to tip over. His hand swiped toward the drink, but JT was faster. He took the drink from the blonde’s hand, spilling only a little before he had the glass pressed to Spaulding’s lips, his hand at the back of his head. “Drink up, Russ.”

Spaulding kept his mouth tightly shut as first the security guard, then the cops moved in. Spaulding managed to spill a bit more of the liquid, right before his hands were cuffed behind his back, but JT figured there was enough residue in the glass and the container the cops pulled from his inside pocket to convince a prosecutor to file charges.

With what they got here, it should be easy to get a search warrant for Spaulding’s home, where, odds were, more drugs would be found.

“What does it look like?” JT asked the cop who’d searched Russ Spaulding, then read him his rights.

“My guess? GHB,” the cop said. He turned toward the blonde. “You’re lucky these two spotted your drink being spiked. We need you to make a statement.”

The blonde, who’d watched everything unfold with shock on her face, turned to her date. “You put fuckinggamma-Hydroxybutyric acid in mydrink? So you could drag me to your hotel room andRAPE ME?”

The last two words were a full shout that garnered the attention of anyone in the room who hadn’t noticed the bust going down.

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