Sam yawned as he checked the time—1:40 a.m. The house was quiet, and everyone was tucked in for the night. Adeline and Molly had eaten dinner separately hours earlier. A fresh pint of blood had been drawn from Molly’s arm and given to Adeline just before bed. Now they were both asleep.
The two upholstered chairs from the secondhand store had been secured to the wall and floorboards with five-inch nails. Nobody, once bound in those chairs, would break free. Sam would escort them to the restroom several times a day, and that would be their exercise. He had never kept anyone prisoner and was sure there would be a learning curve. As long as it didn’t involve another escape, he’d deal with it.
Now, as tired as he was, Sam had to find at least one girl to take home that night. Bars closed in Gary at three a.m.—there was still time—and that night happened to be ladies’ night. With half-priced drinks for women throughout the evening, he was sure to find somebody on the verge of passing out. A little Rohypnol would go a long way in helping him get a woman home without a fuss. Several places he had frequented in the past came to mind. Paul’s Tap was the closest, about a twenty-minute drive. Not too far and not close enough to his house to connect him to anything. In the bathroom, with cold water cupped in his hands, he splashed his face, combed his hair, and changed clothes. It was time to leave and introduce himself to a lady or two. He grabbed the baggie of quartered Rohypnol tablets and left the house.
Paul’s Tap was still packed when Sam arrived. He pulled into the pea-gravel parking lot and found the only available space just as someone else left. He had forty minutes to pull out his bag of tricks and put on the charm.
Patrons huddled near the entrance as they smoked cigarettes. The night was cold and brisk, and snow was forecasted by morning. With his collar pulled a little higher and his shoulders involuntarily stiffened, Sam quickly crossed the parking lot and entered the building. Plenty of bodies, neck to neck and shoulder to shoulder, warmed the bar space. The standing-room-only crowd and loud music made his job that much tougher. Getting the attention of a bartender could take some time.
Sam scanned the room and saw two young women sitting together at a bar table fifteen feet away. He’d play the accidental-bump ruse, as if somebody had pushed him into their table. He’d apologize and offer to buy them a drink before the last call lights came on and everyone was funneled to the door. The free-drink approach was a guaranteed icebreaker, especially when it was well into the night and everyone had their guard down. Hopefully, the girls didn’t ride together. If they were in an impaired state, it could be difficult, but not impossible, to overtake both of them.
Pushing through the crowd and calling out apologies, Sam inched closer to their table. He noticed they were drinking bottled beer. That could make his task of slipping the Rohypnol into their drinks a bit harder. He’d play up his charm and offer them a more sophisticated cocktail, something in a rocks glass.
As if someone had pushed him forward, Sam bumped the blonde on his right. Her beer bottle teetered, and he grabbed it before it tipped over.
“Nice save!” She grinned, clearly admiring his attractive looks.
“I guess I’m good at something—I have a quick hand.” Sam shook back his blond hair and smoothed it with his left hand while sticking out his right. “I’m Sam, and I’m really sorry about that.” He glanced over his shoulder at the imaginary person who had bumped him. “Man, it’s packed in here.” He extended his hand to the second woman. “You two look like you invented the word mischief.”
The brunette laughed as if taken aback. “Who, us?” She hiccupped and reached out to grasp his hand. “I’m Bethany”—she pointed at the blonde—“and she’s Kristen.”
“Looks like your beers are almost empty. How about I buy you another drink, something fitting for classy ladies such as yourselves?”
Kristen smirked. “Damn, nobody has ever called me classy. Okay, sure. What do you have in mind, Sam?”
He scratched his chin as if in thought. I don’t care what you drink as long as I can slip the roofies into it.
“You ladies look like the single malt scotch type—something nice and smoky.”
Bethany’s eyes widened. “Ooh, that sounds delicious.”
“Then it’s settled. Don’t go anywhere. Those are expensive drinks, and if I have to down them myself, I’ll fall flat on my ass. I’ll be right back.”
Sam heard them giggle as he walked away. Luckily, the cash he’d pulled out of Heather’s wallet Friday night would help pay for the frivolous drinks he would never have purchased otherwise. It was the cost of doing business.
He reached into his jacket pocket and thumbed the zipper seal of the baggie as he walked toward the bar. The pills needed to be dropped into the drinks as soon as he got them. It would take several seconds for the chunks to dissolve, but with a few swishes of the stirring sticks, nobody would be the wiser. Especially the two women who had no idea what the drinks were supposed to look like, anyway. Sam called out and waved to get the bartender’s attention. “Two Laphroaigs, neat, in rocks glasses, please.”
“Coming right up. Don’t often have requests for that—nice choice.”
Sam watched as the bartender was generous with a decent pour in each glass.
“Here you go. That’ll be eighteen dollars.”
Sam handed him a twenty. “Keep it and drop a stirring stick in each. My friends like to chew on the ends.”
The bartender nodded his thanks and put a red plastic stick into each glass. With the pill pieces wedged between his fingers, Sam dropped two chunks into each glass as he walked slowly to the table. He kept a watchful eye on the drinks and tried his best to mix the dissolving roofies into the alcohol. By the time he pushed his way through the crowd and reached the table, the Rohypnol had dissolved.
Now it’s just a waiting game. Hopefully, by the time the bar closes, they’re going to need my help getting to their cars.
“Wow, I’m in luck,” he joked as he set the glasses on the table. “You ladies stuck around.”
“Well,” Bethany said, “I was curious about this classy drink you mentioned. I’ve never had scotch before. I hope it’s good.”
“Scotch is something you learn to love over time, but the smoky taste is the real attraction. I think you’ll enjoy it. Anyway, cheers.” Sam held up an imaginary glass and toasted the ladies. “Sip it and swish it in your mouth. You’ll get the full flavor that way.”
He watched as Bethany and Kristen sipped the Laphroaig.
“Whoa, this is different but good. Yeah, I’m a fan,” Kristen said. “Thanks, Sam. You’re a real gentleman.”
He smiled. “You aren’t sisters, are you?”
Bethany rolled her eyes. “No. Do you actually think we look alike?”
“Nah, just making conversation. Did you drive here together tonight?”
“Nope,” Kristen said. “I came here from work. Bethany got here earlier to save a table. Can’t you tell? She’s already three sheets to the wind.”
Bethany flipped her hair smugly with the back of her hand. “I am not. I’m only two sheets in. I have a full sheet to go.”
“How are you doing with the drinks?” Sam glanced at his watch. “There’s still time for one more.”
“I’m good, but I’m suddenly really warm,” Bethany said. “I feel flushed.”
“Yeah, it’s the booze, and your face is bright red,” Kristen said.
Bethany pushed back her stool and almost fell off. “Maybe I should go.”
Sam frowned as he steadied her. “It doesn’t seem like you’re in the best shape to drive. I’ll give you a lift home.”
“You’d do that for me?”
“Sure, what are friends for?”
“I have an idea,” Kristen said. “You drive Bethany to her house in her car, and I’ll follow you. Then I’ll drive you back here to your car. We’ll all get home safely that way.”
“That’s a great idea. Are you ladies ready to go?” Sam asked.
“Yeah, but can you help me walk?” Bethany cradled her head between her hands. “The room is suddenly spinning.”
“Don’t worry,” Sam said. “I’ve got you.”