“Sarah, are you all right?” he asked. Nick was sprinting across the grass toward us.
I nodded.
“Where’s Ethan?” Nick said.
I jerked my head in the direction of the house. “He’s in there.” I held up the can of Spam and grinned at them. “I spammed his scam.” It struck me so funny I started to laugh. “I spammed his scam,” I said again.
“She’s in shock,” I heard Nick say to Mac, but it seemed as though he were talking from the end of a long tunnel. “Ambulance should be right behind us.”
I wanted to ask him what made him think I needed an ambulance. I had Elvis and him and Mac and a can of Spam. What more did I need?
I looked up at Nick and wondered what was wrong with his head that it had gotten so out of focus. Mac, on the other hand, looked wonderfully in focus. It struck me that laying a big wet one on him sounded like a marvelous idea, but before I could tell him that, the world suddenly went dark.
I woke up in the back of the ambulance. “What did you take?” a burly paramedic with muscles on his muscles asked me.
“I didn’t take anything,” I said. It was hard to get the words out. My tongue felt as if it were too long for my mouth. I made a flailing gesture with one hand in the direction of the house. “He made me drink something.” The luncheon meat can was sitting on the edge of the stretcher. “I spammed his scam,” I told the paramedic. I liked saying the words so much I repeated them again.
Nick appeared at the back door of the ambulance. He handed the bottle of ginger ale to the muscular paramedic. “Whatever she had, I think it’s in here.”
“Thanks,” the hunky paramedic said. “There’s another ambulance on the way for your suspect. We’re going to transport her now.”
I leaned sideways and waved at Nick. The straps in the stretcher were the only things keeping me from falling onto the floor.
Nick raised a hand at me and then shut the back door. The paramedic moved the can of Spam on to the floor.
“You don’t have to worry,” I said to him. “I would never spam you. There would be no spamisfaction in that. Spamisfaction.” I said the word a few times, and then I started singing “I Can’t Get No Spamisfaction” to the tune of The Rolling Stones’ “Satisfaction,” and much to the amusement of the paramedics, I sang it all the way to the hospital.
I spent the next several hours in the emergency room. When he came to, Ethan admitted to Nick that there was Vicodin in the bottle of ginger ale he’d tried to make me drink. I hadn’t gotten that much into my system, but on an empty stomach it was enough. I’d only had the painkiller once before in my life and it had made me pretty loopy then, too.
By the time they let Liam in to see me, along with Rose and Mr. P., who had told the staff they were my parents, I was starting to feel like myself again, albeit a very embarrassed version of myself.
Mac had gone to take care of things at the shop. Before he left he caught my hand and gave it a squeeze. “I am so glad you’re all right,” he said.
I smiled at him. “Thank you for riding to the rescue.”
He smiled back. “Anytime, Sarah.”
Nick poked his head in the room about fifteen minutes after the others had arrived. Rose was fussing, fixing my pillow and sending Mr. P. to get me a warm blanket.
“How are you?” he asked.
“I’m all right,” I said. “What happened to Ethan?”
“He’s under arrest.”
“I’d like to pound him into sand,” Liam said.
Nick nodded. “You and me both.” He gave me a half smile. “He crushed up some of Ellie’s Vicodin in that soda he tried to get you to drink.”
I made a face and shook my head. “I didn’t drink very much.”
Nick swiped a hand over his neck. “Yeah, well, it looks like there was enough in that bottle to drug a horse.”
Rose pressed her lips together for a moment and straightened my blankets. I caught her hand. “I’m fine,” I said.
“Thank heavens,” she whispered.
“How did you know?” I asked Nick. He looked at Mr. P., who was just coming in carrying a flannel blanket across his outstretched arms.
“Alfred,” Nick said. “I came back to look at that bed. When he called you back and you didn’t answer, he got worried.”
Rose looked at Mr. P. and beamed. At the same time I saw her blink away tears. I reached for Mr. P.’s hands and he came to stand next to the bed.
“Thank you,” I said.
“There’s nothing to thank me for, my dear,” he said. “You saved yourself. And I’m very glad that you did.” I squeezed his hands and he leaned forward to kiss my forehead.
“Ethan started selling those bottles of wine,” I said to Nick.
He nodded. “I know.” He came around the side of the bed. “I have to get back to the station to clear up some loose ends with Michelle. I’ll come see you later.”
“We should be able to get out of here soon,” Liam said. He looked at Nick and clapped him on the back. “Thank you. This could have ended a lot differently.”
Nick nodded. “I’m really glad it didn’t.” Like Mr. P. he leaned over and dropped a kiss on the top of my head.
I was released from the ER about an hour later. Liam, Rose and Mr. P. took me home, where Jess was waiting with Elvis. She wrapped her arms around me and hugged me. “You scared the crap out of me,” she said. “Don’t do anything like this again.”
“I don’t intend to,” I said.
Elvis was sitting on the top of the cat tower. I went over and picked him up. He rubbed his face against my cheek. “You were very brave,” I said to him as I scratched the side of his face. He made a sound a lot like a sigh of contentment and started to purr.
I carried him over to the sofa and sat down. Jess perched on the edge next to me. “He jumped on Ethan’s back,” I said, still stroking the cat’s fur. “I wouldn’t have been able to hit him if it hadn’t been for Elvis.”
Jess reached over to stroke the top of his head. “Good job, dude,” she said. She looked over at Liam. “There’s coffee.”
“Thanks,” he said, heading into the kitchen.
Jess looked at me again. “Did you really whack Ethan with a can of Spam?” she asked.
I nodded. “His father had a stockpile of food and water probably in case of a power failure.”
“I almost threw that box out,” Rose said.
I smiled at her. “I’m so glad you didn’t.”
“Alfred and I are going to make supper for everyone,” she said. She smiled at me. “Is there anything special you’d like, dear?”
I shook my head. “Whatever you make will be wonderful. Thank you.”
She blew me a kiss and she and Mr. P. left. Liam came out of the kitchen holding a mug of coffee and whistling. It took me a moment, but I realized he was whistling “Satisfaction.” He sat next to me on the sofa and smirked.
“Jess, could you hand me that pillow?” I asked, pointing at the cushion on the nearby rocking chair. I set Elvis on the couch next to me, where he stretched and swiped a paw over his face.
“Sure,” she said. She got up, grabbed the pillow and gave it to me.
“Thanks,” I said. And then I smacked Liam with it.
“Hey!” he yelled. “What did I do?”
“Who told you?”
He tried to look innocent, which was pretty much impossible.
I whacked him again and he collapsed against the back of the couch, laughing.
“Okay, somebody tell me what’s going on,” Jess said, a bewildered look on her face.
Liam held his forearm in front of his face and started to sing “I Can’t Get No Spamisfaction,” before losing it all over again.
I stared up at the ceiling. “I didn’t hallucinate that, did I?” I said.
“Nope,” Liam said. He was enjoying it all way too much.
“Hallucinate what?” Jess demanded. “So help me, if the two of you don’t tell me what’s going on, I’m going to get a can of Spam and smack both of you with it.”