“Do you think he’ll be all right?”

The music in the King’s Head was so loud — Slade’s “Merry Xmas Everybody” booming out from the speakers for at least the hundredth time — that Kaylee had to shout in Jo Dean’s ear to make herself heard, and even then, her friend couldn’t quite hear what she was saying.

“WHAT?” Jo yelled back, cupping her hand to her ear.

“GORDON!” Kaylee bellowed. “DO YOU THINK HE’LL BE ALL RIGHT?”

She’d thoroughly enjoyed every minute of Gordon’s intoxicated presence over the last few hours, and when he’d left ten minutes ago, she’d laughed along with everyone else at the sight of him heading for the exit, grinning madly as he looked over his shoulder and waved good-bye. And when he’d walked smack-dab into the door, she’d almost wet herself with laughter. But at the same time, she couldn’t stop worrying about the assurance she’d given Carl Jenner that Gordon would be home by one o’clock at the latest.

It was 4:35 now.

Carl wasn’t going to be happy at all.

And when Carl wasn’t happy . . .

Kaylee didn’t want to think about that.

She’d tried calling and texting him to let him know that Gordon was going to be late, but she couldn’t get a signal, and when she’d asked to borrow Jo’s phone, Jo had told her that she didn’t have a signal either.

There was a lull in the music now, and this time, when Kaylee repeated her question —“Do you think he’ll be all right?”— Jo actually heard her.

“Who?”

“Gordon.”

“Yeah,” Jo said, her voice slurred, “he’ll be fine.” She grinned drunkenly. “Don’t worry about it. He won’t remember a thing.”

“What did you actually put in his drink?”

Jo picked up her almost-full glass of vodka and Coke and downed it in one go. “Tell you the truth,” she said, stifling a burp, “I’m not exactly sure what it was. Some kind of pill . . . you know, like a capsule? I got them off this guy I know. He said they were new, really good stuff, really potent, like a mixture of roofies, ecstasy, and acid.” She grinned again. “I just opened up a couple of capsules and emptied the powder into Gordon’s lager and lime.”

“Have you taken them?”

Jo shook her head. “I thought I’d try them on Gordon first . . .” She let out a snort of laughter. “Gordon the guinea pig.”

“What do you think —?”

“I need to pee,” Jo said, getting to her feet. She swayed, her upper body circling, and she had to put her hand on the table to steady herself.

“Are you all right?” Kaylee asked her.

“Yeah, yeah . . . no problem . . .” She grinned again. “Back in a minute . . . don’t go away.”

As she headed for the door that led to the women’s room, doing her best to walk in a straight line, the music started up again. It was Slade again, for the one hundred and first time. And for the one hundred and first time, everyone drunkenly sang along.