Page 194 of Too Good to Be True

“It’s a psychedelic. Did you dream last night?”

I hadn’t.

I shook my head.

“Then it’s also highly likely that’s been assisting you in having such vivid, imaginative dreams.”

Dear God.

Someone had been drugging me.

Us.

“Holy crap,” I breathed.

He stared at me.

“What?” I asked.

“I hesitate to share this, but none of the other liquor was tainted. Just what I drink and what you and Portia drink.”

“What’s that mean?” I breathed.

“It means whoever this is seems to be targeting me and you two.”

I didn’t ask why. He wouldn’t know.

“Kathleen told me it wasn’t much,” he shared. “Less than a microdose when drunk one glass at a time. But prolonged exposure might have a layering on of effects. Specifically for the psilocybin.”

I didn’t know how to feel, or at least not how to process all I was feeling, when I noted, “That seems to be a definite possibility with me.”

“Yes.” Then he exploded, “Fuck!”

I started to get closer to him. “Ian.”

He lifted a hand to me. “I need a second, Daphne.”

I stopped.

“I ran into Jack yesterday,” he began. “I’ve known him since he was a lad in the village. And I couldn’t stop my mind from exploring every possible slight me or one of my family might have delivered to make him do something like this.”

That had to seriously suck.

“Oh, honey,” I whispered.

“Rebecca brought my lunch to the Brandy Room yesterday, and I watched her like a hawk to see if she’d give anything away. She didn’t miss it, and now she probably thinks I’m some kind of lech.”

“This is a lot for you,” I noted.

“It’s a lot for all of us.”

“Like you said, you’re on it and we’ll have answers soon.”

“Not soon enough.”

“Yes, but soon,” I stated firmly. “Can I come to you now?”

He did the chin lift again, it was a little less warm, a lot jerkier, but it was still affectionate.

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