Page 92 of Hot Damn
“I do,” she interrupts. “And I’m sure Fenton does too, but it might be better if you go because no offense, Beckett, but you’re less likely to be recognized than either of us.”
She’s giving me a silent message, one I can’t decipher, but understand. “Okay, if you’re sure.”
“I am.” Turning to Natalie she asks, “Can we get her to the hospital without the media finding out?”
“I’ll make it happen.”
“What do you need us to do to help?”
“Nothing. Oakley is dealing with the press right?—”
“Shit. I was supposed?—”
Natalie holds up her hand. “You don’t have to do anything. And before you ask about everyone wanting to interview you because of your hat trick, we’re going to take a leaf out of Cami’s book and release an interview with you and Whitney.”
“Whit?”
“Yes. I’m going to bring her back in now, get her to ask you some questions.”
“But.” I glance down at the woman in my arms before returning my gaze to the Rogues GM.
“Or, we can do something else…”
I can tell Natalie’s mind is spinning with possibilities. Her eyes light up a second before she snaps her fingers.
“Let’s do another conversation with a Rogue tomorrow, once Cami is better, about tonight’s game. The rest of the team can cover for you for now. I can even release a statement saying we’ll be airing a special episode of Conversations with a Rogue tomorrow night.”
“Maybe get Whitney to talk like you first suggested.”
I look at Cami’s mom. “Like when Cami interviewed us before?”
“Yes. I think it would make your no-show at the team press conference less of an issue, especially if we play up the father-daughter angle, and if we’ve managed to keep Cami’s visit to the hospital quiet, it will help bury it further.”
“I can help with that.”
We all turn to find Ray striding toward us. If I hadn’t already met the man, knew he was on our side, I’d be running. His whole demeanor screamsman on a mission, and I’d hate to be his target.
“What have you got?” Natalie crosses her arms, her feet shoulder-width apart, her posture telegraphing ready to defend. She’s in full GM mode.
“It was your basic sleeping pills ground down and liquified.”
“Sleeping pills? Name?” Dr. Kerns steps forward and demands.
“Zolpidem.”
“How’d he liquify them?” Dr. Wendall asks, her voice a little less abrupt.
“Sterile water.”
“Thank god the man’s not a complete idiot,” Dr. Wendall mutters.
“How do you know all this?” I ask Ray.
“On a hunch I contacted the detectives in Baton Rouge, got them to question Dupre. They put a bit of pressure on him, made it sound as though the victim of Draper’s plan was an underage girl.”
“Jesus. And he believed that?”
Ray shrugs. “Must have because he was singing like a canary about Draper trying to give him the syringe to use on Whitney the other day.”
