“probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but I’ve got some confiscated Ambien in my purse,” Detective Palmer says, deadly serious. “Pop one, wash it down with some whiskey, and you’ll be out like a light. It usually does the trick for me.” While I’m tempted—and increasingly intrigued by her personal life—I decline the offer. The goal here is to wake up as the tent is being sliced open, not drop into a coma.”