No Nest for the Wicket(61)

“No guesses?” I asked. “She didn’t even drop a hint?”

He thought about it briefly.

“A couple of times she referred to the so-called Battle of Pruitt’s Ridge,” he said. “As if it didn’t really deserve to be called a battle.”

“Only a small skirmish, you mean?”

“Yeah, or maybe it was just a drunken brawl they pretended was a battle so they wouldn’t look like fools. Maybe histories got the sequence mixed up, and the raid on the Shiffley distillery was what kicked everything off. Who knows?”

Or maybe she had proof that the Pruitts made the whole thing up. Not that I’d mention that to Briggs just yet. Interesting that he knew more about the battle than most of the people in town.

He had pursed his lips and was looking at me as if making a decision. Then he shook his head and spoke again.

“Even if it happened just the way the history books said, who cares?” he said. “Outside of Henrietta Pruitt and a few other stuck-up bi—biddies at the Caerphilly Historical Society. So something happened here once upon a time—people still need places to live and work. Life moves on.”

“So you didn’t need Lindsay’s information,” I said. “Who did?”

“No one.”

“Come on, even I can think of someone else,” I said. “If she had something that made the Pruitts look stupid, you think she wouldn’t blackmail Mrs. Pruitt with it?

“Yes,” he said with considerable heat. “And Lady Pruitt would definitely do anything to keep her damned family escutcheon unblotted.”

“Who else?” I asked.

He shook his head.

“She’s the main problem,” he said. “If it weren’t for her, the rest of them would lose steam pretty quickly.”

I hoped he was underestimating the depth of the local opposition to the outlet mall, but I decided not to say so. He must have guessed my reaction from my face.

“Oh, they’d still be against the mall, but they’d be fighting it on sensible grounds, instead of this whole historical landmark baloney. Besides—”

Just then, we heard a shriek from near the buffet table. We both glanced up.

“Oh, damn,” Briggs exclaimed. All the color drained from his face and he ran toward the buffet.

Odd, I thought as I loped along behind him. It was Lacie Butler shrieking. Why would Briggs care—

But it wasn’t Lacie Butler Mr. Briggs was running toward. Mrs. Briggs had fallen to the ground and was having convulsions.





Chapter Thirty

“She’s poisoned!” Lacie shrieked.

“Nonsense,” Dad said. “It looks like an ordinary epileptic seizure. Briggs, has she ever had one before?”

“Yes, but we thought the medication was working. Until—Shouldn’t we take her to the hospital?”

“Right now, let’s just make sure she doesn’t injure herself,” Dad said. “Michael, could you get a pillow?”

“Right,” Michael said, and ran for the barn.

“If you’d all give us some room—she needs air,” Dad said, glancing up at the rest of the crowd. “Air and a little quiet.”

He was frowning at Lacie, who stood with her eyes wide and her hands pressed over her mouth, making noises ranging from loud whimpers to the occasional shriek—not something likely to hasten Mrs. Briggs’s recovery. It was starting to get to me.

“Lacie,” I said. “Lacie!”

She didn’t react. I considered administering a brisk slap to the face—a bad idea, since my ironwork makes me stronger than most women. Before I had the chance, Mother grabbed Lacie’s arm.

“Lacie, dear,” she said in an icy tone that had the same effect my slap would have. “Let’s get out of the way and let Dr. Langslow deal with this, shall we? Rob, help her, will you?”

Mother and Rob literally dragged Lacie to the other side of the yard, her feet leaving small ruts in the ground as they went.

Everyone else took Dad’s hint—even Eric, who ran to Dad’s car to fetch his medical bag. Michael delivered the pillow. Dad extracted the name of Mrs. Briggs’s doctor from her husband, and I found his number, gave his weekend emergency service a message, and left Dad’s cell-phone number. Then I rejoined the rest of the guests.

“Will she be all right?” one of the Suzies asked.

“Dad’s taking care of her. I’m sure she’ll be fine,” I told her.

“He was afraid this would happen,” the other Suzy said.

“Yes,” the first Suzy chimed in. “That’s why he had us keep an eye on her during the game.”

“Had you keep an eye on her?”