“I can see that.” While Trentington’s arms and hairy chest were muscled, his gut had started going to fat. “Problem?”

“Yeah. My champagne was spiked last night, as was the drink of my guest. You have three seconds to tell me how that happened before I start cutting pieces off you.” Wolfe twirled the knife and made sure it caught the light.

“Drugged?” Trentington’s eyebrows rose. “You’re kidding.”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” Every instinct in Wolfe yelled that the guy was lying. “I’m gonna have to hurt you, aren’t I?”

The door opened, and Force entered, followed by Jethro.

“I don’t need witnesses for this,” Wolfe muttered. He lowered his chin, letting his anger finally take over. “You made sure we toasted with you, and you made sure we had champagne.” His memory was too fuzzy to remember the face of the woman who’d poured his glass. He’d been off balance from kissing Dana right before that, and he hadn’t paid attention. “You knew we’d be dosed.”

“That’s ridiculous. I had no idea,” Trentington said, his eyes spitting.

Wolfe looked over his shoulder at Force. “I think he’s lying.”

Force nodded. “Yeah, that’s my take. How about you, J?”

Jethro leaned back against the door. “I might have a degree or two in micro-expressions, and he’s definitely lying to you. He’s also scared and doing a marvelous job of hiding it.”

Yeah, Wolfe had already clocked that. “Maybe I should ask the blonde if she poured the booze for me.”

Trentington’s eyes widened and then relaxed. “You may be good with a knife, but even I can read that you wouldn’t harm an innocent woman.”

“If she dosed my drink, she ain’t innocent,” Wolfe returned, his grip steady on the knife. “You’re right, though. I want to hurt somebody bad right now, and I’ll sleep better if it’s you and not her.”

“Me too,” Trentington said.

“Okay.” Wolfe moved for him.

Trentington lifted a hand. “Wait.” He sighed. “Fine. An associate, not a close friend, asked me to make sure you and your date were there to share in the toast. I figured he wanted a look at you, not that you’d be drugged. I truly had no idea about the drugs.”

“Name?” Wolfe asked, not backing away.

“I can’t tell you.” Trentington leaned back in the chair, away from the knife.

“Did he mention me or my date or both?” Wolfe had to know who the target was, damn it.

“Both.” Trentington jumped up.

Wolfe swatted him back down with one hand at the neck. He squeezed. “There were bruises on my date this morning, and I’d like to return the favor to you.” He squeezed harder.

Trentington’s eyes bugged out, and his face turned red. He clawed at Wolfe’s hold.