Quint.
I pointed. “Uh oh. Irate brother at twelve o’clock.”
Finn reached for the door handle. “Oh, bloody hell!”
She slammed the door behind her and jogged toward the scene. Quint had managed to get within six feet of Nick before Finn stopped him. She positioned herself between the two men, hands open and in front of her. Nick lunged at Quint, only to be restrained by Addison, who was stronger than she looked. Finn said something to Quint, who backed away, even though his face was roiling with anger. Addison put her hands on Nick’s shoulders. He didn’t shake loose. She moved closer, put her face next to his. He nodded once, let her lead him toward the front steps, where he finally sat. The doctor knelt in front of him. Nick didn’t resist any further.
I sat back in the seat. “One problem down.”
Trey’s index finger was tapping against his thigh. He kept running down the list of medicines.
I pointed. “You take that one. That one too.”
“Yes.”
“Could he have overdosed himself by accident?”
“It’s possible. This is a complicated medication schedule. According to every report, however, he’s maintaining it.”
“Thanks to Addison.”
“Yes.”
I remembered Nick’s giant pill case, the nasty antioxidant tea. Addison took her role of caretaker very seriously. Trey’s finger was still tapping.
“You think something else is going on, don’t you?” I said.
“I do. And I think I know what it might be.”
He swiped the med list closed and hit speed dial. I heard a male voice answer.
Trey spoke quickly. “I’m sorry, Jean Luc, this is Trey. I apologize for the late hour, but if you could please put Gabriella on…Yes, it’s important. Thank you.”
Jean Luc. Gabriella’s current main squeeze. I thought about Saturday night at her place, the candles and wine and lingerie, and contemplated the weird dynamics of the situation—exes who weren’t totally exed, boundary lines constantly being renegotiated. Or crossed.
I shook my head. “Don’t bother her. She’s—”
Trey held up a finger and returned to the conversation. “Gabriella, I…no, nothing’s wrong. I’m fine. Tai’s fine. We’re fine. But I have a question. What did you have me taking for anxiety before the current formulation? The one you changed after the doctors started me on the cyclobenzaprine?” He scribbled some words in his notebook. “Piper methysticum. That’s what I thought. Because of the synergistic CNS effect, correct? Is there a test to check those levels?” More scribbling, nodding. “How long? Okay. Thank you. No, I’m fine. Really. Apologize again to Jean Luc.”
He hung up and stared at his notebook. Through the window, I could see Nick and Addison and the doctor in an official huddle, Quint on the outskirts, looking seismic.
“What’s going on?” I said.
“Nick’s manifesting the symptoms of a kavalactone overdose.”
“A what?”
“Kava is a common ingredient in herbal anti-anxiety formulations. It’s safe in proper dosages, but contraindicated for anyone taking drugs in the benzodiazepine class because the psychoactive effect is compounded. Liver failure and pulmonary compromise can also occur. The symptoms are exactly as Nick is presenting, especially the unusual disorientation.”
“Do I want to know how you know this?”
He winced. “I once spent a very unpleasant twelve hours in the emergency room after combining the two. I remember feeling as if my environment wasn’t responding properly, like Nick is describing. I couldn’t even open my bedroom door.”
“Coordination problems?”
“No. More like a lack of agency. At the time, it felt as if the door was wrong, not my ability to open the door. It’s how Gabriella recognized what had happened.”
“Gabriella screwed up your meds?”
He frowned. “Of course not. I screwed up. One time and never again, for that particular mistake anyway.” He drummed his fingers faster. “Nick’s chart shows both cyclobenzaprine and clonazepam. But his herbal relaxants don’t have kava.”
“Could someone have tampered with his meds?”
“Possibly. It would have to be someone who understood herbal pharmacology. And had access to his medications. Kava has a very pungent smell, however. It’s hard to disguise.”
“Any other way to get it to him? Like in something he ate or drank?”
Trey shook his head. “It has a distinctive taste as well.”
“Stronger than lapsang souchong?”
Trey blinked at me. “What?”
“That tea you drink, the one that tastes like turpentine and ashes. Nick drinks it too, and that taste could disguise anything.”
“Not kava. Pu-erh might, but that’s an uncommon—”
“What did you say?”
“Pu-erh. It’s—”
I grabbed his knee. “Get Finn over here! Now!”
Chapter Twenty-five
Once I explained my hunch and Trey explained the pharmaceutical mechanics, Finn called one of her minions and put a lockdown on Nick’s trailer at the Kennesaw base camp. She snagged his tea from the car herself. Trey watched her from the passenger side of the Camaro, itching to get out. But he stayed put.
“You did good,” I said.
“I remembered the information. You provided the causal link.”
“It was more than that. You connected your own past to somebody else’s present. Theory of mind and peripheral processing.”
He raised an eyebrow at me. “You’ve been reading my cognitive neuroscience books.”
“Psychology Today, actually. My brother’s article about a certain Subject J.”
“Oh. That’s me.”
“So I gathered.”
Trey returned his attention to the crash scene, even though only Finn and Quint stood there. The doctor had taken Nick inside, Addison right behind. Eventually, Finn sent Quint packing, and she came back to the car.
She grinned at Trey as she shut the door behind herself. “If I could give you a gold medal, I would. Nice work.”
Trey tried to keep his expression blank, but the slight flush along his cheekbones betrayed his embarrassed pleasure. “When will you get the results back on the labs?”
“I have to find a place that can test for kavalactones first. That’s not a standard test. Until I do, the doctor is running some liver enzyme levels and putting him on IV fluids, just in case.”
“Did you ask Addison about it?”
“I did. She’s familiar with the contraindications and insists she doesn’t include kava in his daily regimen.”
I didn’t need to ask Finn if Nick was going to the hospital. He wasn’t. He wasn’t doing anything
