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“I know.” Micah bobbed his head. “Owen’s working the ER tonight. He’ll take care of it for now.”
Ian clapped him on the shoulder and nodded. “Okay, well, that’s good news at least.” Steering him toward one of the chairs lined up along the back wall, Ian encouraged him to sit. “Tell me what you need.”
Micah swiped a shaking hand over his face. “I, uh, I have this.” He pulled the clear bottle of fever reducer from his pocket. “I need to know exactly what’s in those pills.”
“I’ll take care of it.” Handling the bottle as though it was a venomous snake, Ian dropped it into the pocket of his jacket. “Anything else?”
“There’s something at Meredith’s house that’s making him sick. I just…I can’t think right now.” He’d almost lost his damn mind when the MEs had taken August from him, disappearing with him through heavy double doors. “I want to know who makes that so-called remedy.”
Before he could continue, Meredith emerged from the triage with red, puffy eyes. As soon as Micah spotted her, he jumped to his feet and pulled the redhead into a tight hug. “What did Doc Owen say?”
“Augusts is stable right now. Sleeping. The doctor wants to keep him for observations, but he said to tell you there’s nothing to worry about. He’ll ‘take care of it,’ whatever that means.” She hiccupped adorably as she tucked her face into his shoulder. “He always was a drama queen.”
Resting his chin on the top of her head, Micah chuckled. “Well, it is technically his birthday. I guess he’s entitled.”
“How did this happen?”
“That’s what we’re trying to find out,” Ian interrupted, coming to stand beside them. “I need you both to tell me what you remember about today.”
“August slept in,” Meredith supplied. “He showered when he woke up, and then we had breakfast. I made French toast.” She stepped away from Micah and turned to face Ian. “I left after that, and I didn’t see him again until later that night. I brought home some pastries from our favorite bakery, and then he left to go to your place.”
“I took him home when he got the headache,” Micah said, picking up his part of the story. “He took his pills and slept for a while.” Their naked romp between the sheets hadn’t made August sick, so he decided to skip that part. “He took a shower after he woke up, and we talked until Meredith came home. He didn’t eat anything as far as I remember.”
Pinching the bottle by the neck, Ian pulled it from his pocket and shook it so that the tablets clinked against the glass. “Where did you get this?”
“One of my sellers.”
“Who?” Ian demanded. “I need a name.”
“Macy Danvers.”
“Miss Lula’s granddaughter?” Micah’s gut clenched, and he looked from Ian to Meredith, hoping someone would deny it.
“The pie lady?” Meredith shrugged. “I don’t know her family tree, but Macy seems nice enough.”
Bending over the female, he buried his nose in Meredith’s hair and inhaled deeply. Beneath the sweet, cool mint, so subtle he would have missed it if he hadn’t been looking for it, he detected the astringent scent of devil’s ivy.
“Does August use the same shampoo?”
She bobbed her head. “He always uses my stuff when he visits. He says it’s better.”
“Is it from your shop? Who makes it?” A cold pit formed in his stomach, and Micah had a feeling he already knew the answer.
“Macy. I buy it from Macy Danvers.”
August left the hospital that afternoon with instructions to drink plenty of fluids and get lots of rest. Micah, the overprotective idiot, had gathered his things from Meredith’s and moved themto one of the guest rooms in his house. Something had happened during his hospital stay, something big, though no one would tell him what.
“Would you stop stomping around like a caveman and just sit down?” Micah had been pacing and growling since they’d arrived home, and it was making August twitchy.
“Are you hungry?”
August huffed. “Tell me what happened last night. You think someone poisoned my shampoo?”
“Yes.”
“Yes,” August mocked as he curled his legs under him on the couch and pulled the blanket up around his shoulders. “Did you think it could have been an accident? If you’ll recall, humans aren’t allergic to devil’s ivy.”
Micah stopped pacing long enough to level a glare at him. “How many shampoos have ivy in the ingredients?”
