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Holly grabs her bag, and hurries down to her car.
* * *
She finds her grandfather inside his crowded office, slouched in front of his computer screen. She kisses him on the forehead. “Hi, Papa.”
“Hello, Koala,” he says, but his words lack their usual warmth or enthusiasm.
“Everything OK? You don’t seem yourself.”
He waves off her concern. “What brings you by?”
“I was hoping to get your advice.”
His chin drops. “Not about the accident?”
“I wasn’t—”
“Please, Holly.” He holds up a shaky hand. “No more questions about your father. I don’t want to relive that.” His voice is as tremulous as his hand. “It’s too much.”
“No, no, Papa,” she says, feeling guilt all over again for having caused him such angst. “It has nothing to do with Dad. Or the accident. Promise.”
He musters a grateful smile. “What is it, then?”
She pulls up a chair and sits down beside him. “I lost another client…” Her voice cracks unexpectedly. “A second one from the same psychedelic group.”
He looks dumbfounded. “Another one?”
The words pour out of her as she recounts the story of JJ’s death. She describes the crippling sense of responsibility as well as her suspicions surrounding the deaths. “I can’t shake the feeling that someone in the tribe is hiding something. Something serious. Maybe more than just one of them.”
He squints at her. “You honestly believe those deaths weren’t self-inflicted?”
“I have no idea. But I have to find out.”
“Isn’t that for the police?”
“I’m not sure they’ll look hard enough. Or at least in the right places. Because they don’t even know who the rest of the tribe is. And I can’t tell them.”
“What do you intend to do?”
“I have this idea… but it’s not exactly ethical.”
He gives her a stern look. “Tell me.”
“Not sure you’ll want to hear this.”
“If it makes you feel any better, chances are I’ll forget ten minutes after you tell me.”
She laughs and settles deeper in her chair. “The only reason I know anything about JJ’s concerns regarding Elaine is because I interviewed her while she was under ketamine. And she was so forthcoming.”
Walter’s bushy eyebrows furrow. “What are you suggesting?”
“If I could just speak to other members in a similar way. Under ketamine…” Holly says sheepishly. “And, if necessary, I could always add midazolam to blur the memories.”
“Oh, Holly.” He reaches out and clutches her wrist. “You didn’t need to drive all the way here. You already know the answer.”
“Yes, but—”
“You and I, we’ve been committed to harnessing the therapeutic powers of psychedelics.” He lets go of her wrist. “But to now use them as some kind of truth serum? Nothing in the world would justify that.”
