California Schemin' - Kate George [59]
Eventually the drugs began to take effect. The girls were asleep in front of the TV. Moose had disappeared into the bathroom off the kitchen, Hammie was upstairs, and the senator was incoherent.
“What’s wrong with me?” he asked for the tenth time as I tried to get him down the hall to the limo.
“Everybody’s sick,” I lied. “I need to get you to the hospital. I’m the only one left who’s well enough to drive.”
“But why are we sick?” He put the emphasis on why, like a child.
“Ate something bad, I guess. Maybe it was the shrimp cocktail, I didn’t have any of that.”
“Maybe the shrimp.” He sounded as if he was drifting off again, and I could feel him growing heavier. “Senator Wallace.” I shoved him upright. “You have to stay awake until you are in the car.” I pushed him along the hall. If he passed out, I’d never get him down the steps in the garage or into the limo for that matter.
“Car,” he said.
“Yeah, car. Come on.”
I opened the door to the garage with my left hand while steadying him with my right. I edged out the door and stepped down the stars backward. Luckily there were only three of them, and he didn’t fall flat on his face. He was leaning on me heavily and dragging his feet. I leaned him against the side of the first limo and opened the door. His knees gave way, and he slid down the side of the car and sat on the floor of the garage.
I grabbed an arm and tugged.
“Senator! Get in the car. We have to get you to the hospital.”
“I’m coming.” His words slurred and his head dropped.
“Shit!” I left him sitting there and ran back into the house. The kitchen was a disaster of dishes. I grabbed a half-empty beer mug off the island and topped it off with water. I took it back into the garage and threw it in the senator’s face.
He spluttered and coughed.
“In the car, Senator Wallace. Get in the car.”
He gave up trying to stand and crawled to the door of the car, where he rested his forehead on the edge of the seat.
“In you go.” I prodded him with my foot, and he crawled into the back and collapsed on the back seat. “Stay there. I’ll be right back.”
At the driver’s door I scanned the controls until I found the one I thought locked the back doors from the inside. I found Moose in the bathroom sitting on the edge of the tub, his head between his knees.
“Moose.”
Moose slowly raised his head and looked at me.
“I need the keys to the limo.”
“In the laundry room.” He swallowed hard. “Was it the chocolate or the beer?” he asked.
“Both.” I felt a small twinge of guilt. I’d seen him sample both.
“Oh, God. I’ll never eat chocolate again.” He dropped his head to his knees and then sat up and lunged for the toilet.
I backed out of the bathroom. A cell was ringing. I heard Hammie answer as I walked past the living room. I slowed to listen.
“Yeah? You’re in the limo? Can you tell where you are?” He paused, and I could hear him taking deep breaths. His stomach was probably cramping, but he hadn’t had much of the poison margaritas. I heard him take a drink of something. Most of the drinks in the living room were now laced with Valium. I almost felt bad for him.
“You’re in the garage? The garage here at the house? The car is locked. Well, sit tight, someone will come out to get you in a bit.” I moved on. I needed to be out of there before he pulled himself together.
“No, she can’t take you anywhere, she doesn’t know where the keys are kept.”
I left him to reason with Wallace and trotted down to the laundry room and stopped dead. Where in the laundry room? I pulled out drawers and rummaged through the cupboards in a panic. Nothing. I stopped and looked around, scanning the walls. There was a cabinet-sized mirror set into the wall next to the door. I tried pulling it open, but I couldn’t get my fingers around the edges of the frame. I put my palm on it and pushed. It popped out, revealing a wall full of keys.
Not knowing which were the keys to the limo Wallace was in, I pulled a set of every key chain with a push