Vineyard Quilt: Pattern Of Betrayal Part 13

Joyce moaned in response.

It was good, but hardly that good. Julie glanced up to see Joyce close her eyes. OK, maybe it was to some people.

Julie looked back to her plate but then jerked up her head as Susan screamed.

"Oh my word! Joyce is dying!" Susan exclaimed. "The killer struck again!"

Joyce careened over, falling to the floor with a soft thud.

Kenneth was on his feet in a split second. He raced to Joyce's side, turning her and grabbing her wrist to check her pulse.

Susan screamed again.

Julie rushed over to Kenneth. "What's wrong with her?" She pulled her phone from her pocket and dialed 911.

He shook his head. "Her pulse is fast, and her breathing is shallow."

"Does anyone know CPR?" Liam asked.

Kenneth shot him a look.

"Right. You're a doctor. Sorry."

Julie relayed the information to the dispatcher, who promised to send an ambulance immediately. She hung up the phone and looked at the older woman. Her eyes were closed; she looked like she was asleep.

"Oh my," Sadie gasped, placing a hand over her mouth. "This is terrible."

Everyone hovered around, but Kenneth motioned them back. "Give her some room."

"Has she had a heart attack?" Carrie asked.

"It appears so, but I'm a podiatrist. And it's been a long time since med school."

"Wait!" Sadie grabbed Joyce's handbag and started rifling through the contents. "Joyce is allergic to peanuts. Maybe she accidentally ate one."

"Could this be anaphylactic shock?" Julie asked Kenneth. She was no doctor, but it really looked like a heart attack to her. And Joyce was no spring chicken. Plus, Hannah was the most careful person there was; if Joyce had a peanut allergy, she knew about it.

"Here." Sadie found the EpiPen and held it toward Kenneth. Her hand was shaking.

"I've never seen anaphylaxis look like this," he mused, his hand still on her pulse. "There's no swelling or rash of any kind."

"Please," Sadie said, tears in her eyes. "If you wait too long, she'll certainly die."

Kenneth hesitated but then took the pen and administered the shot into Joyce's thigh just as Hannah entered with a shocked look on her face.

"Were there peanuts in the meal?" Julie demanded.

"Of course not," Hannah offered. "Joyce is allergic."

Poison sprang to Julie's mind, and she pushed the thought away. She couldn't jump to conclusions. She wouldn't.

The bell rang from the front of the inn followed by heavy footsteps.

"The ambulance is here," Liam said from the doorway. "I'll direct them back."

Joyce's eyelids fluttered a bit, but for the most part, she was as still as the dead.

"Clear some room," the EMT ordered.

Everyone took a step back and then another as they started to work on Joyce.

Julie said a little prayer that the woman would be OK. For her sake, for Sadie's sake, and for Millie's sake. Two dead bodies in one weekend were more than anyone should have to face.

The EMTs loaded Joyce into the ambulance, and with Sadie riding along, rushed her to the hospital.

Even though dinner was barely half over, no one seemed willing to continue to eat. Whether they were upset about Joyce or afraid for themselves, Julie didn't ask. A poisoning would surely be the icing on the disaster weekend cake.

Susan went up to her room, dragging her husband reluctantly behind. Gregory started for the front door, mumbling about getting something decent to eat, and Liam headed for the stairs with the preoccupied look in his eyes that he often got. Only Carrie remained in the tearoom with Julie and Shirley.

"Would it be all right if I worked on the quilt a little more?" Carrie asked in her soft voice.

"I don't see why not," Julie replied. Everyone had their own way of working through stress and bad times. If st.i.tching helped Carrie, then Julie wasn't about to tell her she couldn't quilt. After all, that was the real driving force behind the Quilt Haus Inn.

Carrie smiled, and her entire face lit up. "Great. If you need me, that's where I'll be."

Suddenly there was something very familiar about her, but Julie couldn't pinpoint what it was. The girl's smile was similar to another that Julie had seen before.

She sighed. Maybe it was because Carrie reminded her so much of Hannah. Whatever it was, Julie couldn't shake the strong sense of deja vu as she made her way into the kitchen.

She found Hannah sitting on one of the stools at the island, biting her lip as she thumbed through a large cookbook. Either she was looking for something, or she was exercising her page-turning muscles. Flip, flip, flip.

"How is she?" Hannah asked, eyes on the cookbook.

"She was stable when they took her."

"Do they know what caused her ... whatever it was that happened?"

Julie shook her head. "I think it was a heart attack. But we won't know much of anything until tomorrow."

Hannah nodded, her shoulders stiff with worry.

"So, you knew that Joyce was allergic to peanuts?"

"Of course," Hannah answered, pulling her eyes from the book. "There's a place for that kind of information on the registration form. Plus, I double-check with all of our guests before their arrival in case I need to do any special ordering."

Julie remembered that there was a place on the registration form about allergies and special requests. Hannah was just so competent that Julie had pretty much not given the food another thought since taking the innkeeper job.

"And nothing had peanuts in it tonight?"

Hannah frowned. "Of course not."

"I'm sorry. I'm only asking for when Detective Frost interrogates me." Julie looked around the kitchen to see if anything looked amiss. "I know I'm being paranoid here, but if there were peanuts in her food, and you didn't put them there-"

"Then someone is trying to kill off all our guests."

"Judging from how everyone stopped eating after the incident," Julie said, "I think that's what they all suspect."

"Too bad," Hannah said with a pointed look at the wet-bottom shoofly pies she had made to cap off the Amish-theme dinner.

"Have you noticed anything weird going on recently in the kitchen?" Julie asked.

"Just that Gregory guy poking around." Hannah made a face.

"But nothing in here? Nothing was moved or missing?"

"Things are always moved and missing."

"Oh?" Julie asked.

"Inga."

The one word was all the explanation Julie needed. "Right."

"Everything that's happened," Hannah said. "It's too much to be a coincidence. Don't you think?"

"Yes," Julie said. "Alice's death, the snake, the journal, and now this."

"Do you think someone is trying to put Millie out of business?"

"I'm not sure." Julie broke off a chunk of the crusty French bread sitting near Hannah's elbow. "But I knew this murder mystery weekend was a bad idea."

"That bread is for tomorrow's breakfast, you know."

Julie shot her an apologetic grin. "Sorry. I guess I'm turning into a nervous eater."

"Now that concerns me."

"That I'm eating?" Julie asked.

"No, that you're nervous."

And she would be until they got word back from the hospital that Joyce was OK. Julie hated the thought of the woman being seriously ill. And stories like this could break an inn's reputation. She couldn't imagine her guilt if the Quilt Haus Inn went down the tubes on her watch.

"Will you let me know when Sadie calls?" Hannah asked.

"Definitely. Thanks for the bread." Julie headed for the tearoom. If anyone had seen anything noteworthy, it would be Shirley.

TEN.

Julie found Shirley straightening up the tearoom, preparing to close it for the evening. She helped the energetic redhead sweep the floor and wipe down all the tables. After all, she couldn't very well ask too many questions with Carrie sitting right there.

Finally, the young girl stood and stretched, stifling a yawn even though it was barely eight o'clock. "I guess I'd better be getting to bed."

"So early?" Shirley asked. "A young thing like you should be out kicking up her heels and having a good time."

Carrie smiled. She really was a pretty girl, once you took away the huge gla.s.ses and baggy, librarian-gone-wrong clothing. "Oh, I have those nights too. But tonight I want to read a little; then I'll hit the hay."

"What are you reading?" Julie asked. With any luck the girl would say, "The Civil War journal I stole from your office."

Carrie blushed. "Romeo and Juliet."

Not the answer Julie had expected. "Really?"

"I adore that story." Shirley sighed and then made a face. "Except for the end. It could have ended much better. All that death."

"Don't ruin it for me," Carrie said.

Julie blinked. Is she serious? Who doesn't know how Romeo and Juliet ends?

"I've read that play so many times," Shirley continued, the whimsical tone of her voice taking over.

"I read it in high school English cla.s.s," Julie said. "I remember that the boys hated it."

"This is a first for me," Carrie admitted.

"Seriously?" Shirley gasped. "Oh, honey, you have been missing out."

"You didn't read it in school?" Julie asked.

Carrie shrugged. "I, um, was mostly homeschooled. My tutor ... I mean, my mother didn't think it was something I needed to experience at the time."

"Well, you're reading it now, dear, and that's all that matters." Shirley patted the girl's arm rea.s.suringly. "Never too late."

Carrie smiled. "I guess. Good night."

"Good night," Julie murmured, wondering more and more what the girl's true story was. Too many things about her didn't add up.

"What is it?" Shirley asked after Carrie had left the room. "You've been hovering all night, waiting to ask me something. So go ahead."

"Aside from the obvious," Julie said, "have you noticed anything unusual this weekend?"