He flopped like a dead fish and seemed to have more limbs than an octopus. I now understood the true meaning of the term dead weight. But hard or not, I was sending Jay Hanrahan home and without the good time he’d planned on when he’d had the bartender dump that powder into my drink. Even with Georgia and Callie there to help, it was a challenge. We couldn’t just roll him or drag him; we had to use kid gloves. We needed to get him back to his own place intact and unbruised, put him in his jammies, and get him into bed. As we levered him into the front and fastened his seat belt, a truly ironic precaution under the circumstances, I thought about the crazy sequence of events that had brought us here. It wasn’t the sort of thing my book group usually did. *** “A Boston jury has just found local attorney Jay Hanrahan not guilty in a date rape case that’s grabbed headlines throughout the region. Complainant Ellen Corso…” The news announcer’s voice would have slid over me like background noise if I hadn’t caught Ellen’s name.
