Portrait in Death - J.D. Robb

"Not so much to . . ." Her face blurred, doubled, shimmered briefly into focus again. "Ah, fuck me. You tranq'd the soup."
"Yeah, I did." Her tone was cheerful as she took the bowl before it tipped out of his limp fingers.

 

Payback's a bitch.

 

She set the lights on five percent so that if he surfaced, he wouldn't wake in the dark.