“It doesn’t seem to have done him any harm, but I think I’ll call the nurse just to be sure,” said Marge. She had just bent to ring the call button when Barney’s eyes flew open. She jumped back in shock.

“What’s going on here?” Barney demanded.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

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“Of course they were having an affair,” said Emily Miller, her white head bobbing and her blue eyes twinkling over her tea cup.

Her ancient friend, Miss Tilley, nodded. “I said so all along, if you remember.”

“It was certainly a surprise to me,” Lucy confessed.

Once again she was having tea with the two old friends, and this time she was dressed for the occasion. She was wearing a brand-new blouse and sweater she’d bought at the Country Cousins January overstock sale. Her ankles were clamped together neatly, a linen napkin was perched on her knees, and she was using her very best manners. In fact, she felt rather like a child at an adult party, a sensation she was doing her best to overcome.

“No, I didn’t know, and I don’t think most other people did, either. I was sure George Higham did it,” she admitted, taking a sip of tea and nearly choking on its odd, smoky flavor.

“It’s Lapsang souchong, dear. Perhaps you’d like something milder?” inquired Miss Tilley.

“Oh, no, this is fine. In fact, I rather like it,” Lucy insisted bravely.

The two old women exchanged a glance.

“I’ve always thought you had possibilities, Lucy Stone. You always chose such eclectic reading material,” remembered Miss Tilley. “Now, do tell us all about that dreadful afternoon.” She settled back in her chair and took a sip of tea, rolling it over her tongue and savoring it.

“I’d taken Marge to the hospital to visit Barney,” Lucy began. “She told me that Dave Davidson was encouraging her to pull the plug on Barney. He kept telling her that Barney would never recover, and that the kindest thing to do would be to end it. It made me suspicious because the nurses told me Barney was getting better.”

“How is he doing, Lucy?” asked Mrs. Miller.

“He’s doing wonderfully. Every day he’s stronger and remembers more. I will never forget how he came out of that coma. One minute he was unconscious, and the next he was wide awake, demanding to know what was going on. It was amazing.”

“Of course, if the Reverend Mr. Davidson had had his way, it would have been very different,” Miss Tilley added tartly. “Such a wicked man.”

“I always tried to avoid him after church,” confessed Lucy. “I never liked him. He made me uneasy. Of course, I never thought he was a murderer until I saw the sculpture.”