spotlight.”
“I’m trying to keep a low profile,” Candy whispered as she noticed several disapproving looks peppered throughout the crowd. Obviously Wanda’s friends.
Speaking of which...
“And now,” Oliver said, looking around, “I’d like to turn the microphone over to a woman who has been invaluable to this event. In fact, without her help, we never could have pulled it off. I’d like to invite Wanda Boyle to make a few comments.”
“Oh, great,” Maggie said. “I wonder what she has to say.”
“I’m sure she’ll be delightful,” Candy added with a touch of sarcasm.
“Hmm, this one is very good,” Wilma Mae said.
Candy looked around. “What?”
Wilma Mae had taken a bowl of stew that sat nearby, removed the plastic wrapping covering it, located a spoon, and was dipping into it.
“Wilma Mae! You’re not supposed to eat that yet!”
The elderly woman seemed not to hear her as she shoved a spoonful into her mouth. “But... I’m so hungry,” she said apologetically after she swallowed. “And this stew is so — ”
She stopped abruptly as her face changed in an instant, first to an expression of shock and then to one of horror.
“Oh my!” she squeaked, and tumbled out of her chair in a dead faint, falling heavily onto the well-manicured lawn of the Lightkeeper’s Inn.
Fifteen
“Oh my God!”
As Candy dropped to one knee beside the unconscious Wilma Mae, several others swarmed around to help, and a small pocket of chaos enveloped them. Maggie jumped up, calling out loudly for a doctor, interrupting the ceremony taking place at the podium.
Wanda stopped in midsentence, her words trailing off as she looked around with a confused expression on her face. Oliver studied the situation for a moment, seemed to quickly grasp what was going on, and snapped his fingers at Robbie, who dashed off to summon an on-call nurse Oliver had hired for the event.
Candy checked Wilma Mae’s pulse, which was faint but steady, and tapped the elderly woman gently on the cheeks. “Wilma Mae! Wilma Mae! Can you hear me?”
Wilma Mae let out several quick breaths as her eyelids fluttered.
Alby Alcott arrived and knelt on the other side of Wilma Mae. “Here, let me have a look at her.”
“She just fainted dead away,” Candy said. “She was eating the stew — ”
Even as the words left her mouth something clicked inside her brain.
She twisted toward the table, where the cup of stew still sat, barely touched, growing cooler.
“She’s coming around,” Alby said. “Could everyone just back away, please? Give us some air.”
Candy felt a wave of relief going through her as she turned back toward the elderly woman. “Wilma Mae, what happened?” she asked breathlessly.
The elderly woman looked up at her with blinking, unfocused eyes. “Oh... oh... Candy dear.” She put a hand to her forehead, looking dazed. “Where am I?”
“I think she just needs a few minutes to recover,” Alby said reassuringly. “I’ll go see where the nurse is, though.” He rose and dashed off.
Wilma Mae’s gaze shifted through the faces around her, then settled back on Candy’s. “Why is everyone looking at me so strangely?”
“You fainted,” Candy told her. “You gave us quite a scare.”
“Oh, oh.” Wilma Mae’s mouth worked a little, and the tip of her tongue flicked out, tasting her lips. Suddenly her gaze sharpened. “It was the stew!” she said in a harsh whisper.
Candy leaned closer. “The stew? Was something wrong with it?”
“Oh no, no. It was... delicious.”
“Delicious?”
Wilma Mae’s gray eyes stared deep into her. Reaching up with an unsteady hand, she took Candy by the shoulder and pulled her closer. “It was made with
“What?” Candy’s head popped up again. She turned back toward the table, searching for the cup of stew Wilma Mae had eaten from. But someone had already whisked it away. “Where’d it go?” she asked no one in particular.
She never got an answer. Oliver was back at the microphone. “There’s nothing to worry about, folks. We’ve just had a small interruption. Mrs. Wendell fainted, but it appears she’s going to be okay. Just give us a couple of minutes to attend to her and we’ll begin again. The judging will commence shortly.”
The nurse arrived and quickly took control of the situation. “Let’s get her inside,” she said. “She can rest in there, out of this crowd, and I’ll give her a quick checkup.”
With the nurse’s help, Candy and Maggie were able to get Wilma Mae on her feet. They escorted the dazed woman into the inn, to a quiet side lounge, where they placed her on a sofa. While Candy and the nurse helped Wilma Mae lie down, propping pillows around her to make her comfortable, Maggie ran off to find more water and a cool cloth.
“I’m so embarrassed,” Wilma Mae said weakly, holding on to Candy’s hand. “I didn’t mean to cause so much trouble, but that stew just took me by surprise.”
As the nurse busied herself taking off Wilma Mae’s shoes, Candy leaned close. “Are you sure it was Mr. Sedley’s recipe?” she whispered. “Maybe you were mistaken, or maybe it just tasted similar.”
“Oh no, that was definitely his recipe,” Wilma Mae whispered back. “There’s no mistaking it. It’s the secret ingredient, you know.” She glanced at the nurse, then said softly into Candy’s ear, “It’s a pinch of cinnamon, though it has to be added in a special way. It adds a subtle sweetness to the flavor. Mr. Sedley always said someone sprinkled cinnamon on me the day I was born, so that’s why he put it in the stew.”
At the mention of her longtime friend, she paused and her eyes began to water. “I
Candy patted her hand. “We’re going to find out where he is. Don’t you worry about that. You just need to stay here for a while and rest. I’ll be right back.” She rose and started toward the door.
“Where’re you going?” Maggie asked, coming back into the room.
“To look for something. Keep an eye on Wilma Mae for me, will you?”
“Sure.” Maggie studied her. “Is everything all right?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Need any help?”
“If I do, I know where to look.”
“I’ve always got your back, you know.”
Candy nodded. “I know.”
Outside, Oliver had quickly put the day’s events back on track. The old cups of stew for the judges had been cleared away, and Alby, Robbie, and a few other staff members were bringing in newer, warmer cups, which they were again placing in front of placards with large black numerals. Roger Sykes was leaning over the table, checking out the samples with a studious eye, while Wanda Boyle was just concluding her remarks.
Standing nearby, Alby saw Candy and motioned. “We’re ready for the judges,” he said, crossing quickly to her. In a lower voice, he asked, “How’s Wilma Mae? Is she going to be able to participate?”
Candy shook her head. “I don’t think so. She’s a little shaken up.”
“Is she going to be all right?”
“She’ll be okay. The nurse is with her.”
