California Schemin' - Kate George [58]
Leaving the cart showing to the side, I opened a new page and pulled up a search engine. Keeping an eye on Moose I searched the effects of the drugs I’d pilfered from the medicine chest. Then on a whim I searched the combination of laxatives and ipecac. Three minutes of reading convinced me that the ipecac was going back in the cupboard. I wasn’t interested in killing anybody. The laxatives and diet pills, however, had definite possibilities.
I cleared the browser history, although it was doubtful anyone would be looking for it until after I’d already done the damage. I left the shopping cart up on the screen. If things didn’t go the way I wanted, at least I’d have new underwear.
Moose took a tray of fruit into the dining room, and I helped myself to an extra large mug from the cabinet, taking it down the hall and into my room. I locked myself in my bathroom and unwrapped all the laxatives, shoving them into the cup.
Trying to look as if nothing’s up when you’re carrying around a mug full of stool softener isn’t easy. I felt a complete fool, and my heart was banging away, making me feel flustered. I smiled at Moose as he passed me with a bowl of chips and hurried over to the microwave. I set the timer and nuked the laxative. You can learn some very interesting things on the web.
Moose came back in the kitchen as I was pulling the mug from the microwave. I smiled at him, trying to look innocent and feeling like a complete failure.
“Make yourself some hot chocolate?” he asked.
“I hope that’s okay.”
“Sure. Make yourself at home.” He grabbed a beer and headed for the living room.
I made my way into the dining room, admiring the beautiful fountain and fruits. I snagged a piece of pineapple and bit into it, wiping the juice from my face. I poured the melted laxative into the fountain, snagged a strawberry and took the mug into the kitchen. I rinsed it out and dried it. I wandered back down the hall into my bathroom, trying to look inconspicuous and probably failing horribly. Luckily no one came into the hall to see me. After locking the door, I grabbed the diet pills and pried open the capsules. I dumped the powder into my mug and snuck back into the dining room.
I mixed the powder into the spicy guacamole and the cocktail sauce for the shrimp, using the serving spoons to make sure there weren’t any traces. The next part was going to be more difficult, the Valium needed to be crushed. Back in the bathroom, I put the pills on the marble counter and looked around for something heavy and hard to smash them with. One blow with the ceramic soap dispenser cured me of that idea. It sounded like I was trying to demolish the bathroom. I put the pills on the tile floor, pulled off my sneakers and slid on the blue heels. I stepped on the pills one at a time, crushing them under my heel. A piece of paper from the little desk worked as a scooper, and I poured the powder back into the prescription bottle, trying not to feel too guilty about the dirt from the floor and shoe.
I rejoined the family and stood in the archway to the living room. Wallace was drinking scotch. I leaned against the door jam waiting. It wasn’t long before he was waving his empty glass in the air.
“Mr. Moore! Refill!”
“I’ve got it,” I said, reaching over the back of the couch and snagging his glass from his hand. I took it over to the bar. I checked to make sure that everyone still had their backs to me and pulled the prescription bottle out of my pocket. My hands were trembling, and I had trouble getting the lid off. I shook some of the crushed Valium into the glass. God, please keep me from killing anyone. I added Scotch and stirred with my finger.
A while later I realized that I was going to have to do more than knock the senator out. The girls weren’t eating the drug-laced food. Wendy had a couple of pieces of fruit with a miniscule amount of chocolate, but not enough to really incapacitate her. Paris wasn