Hark! The Herald Angel Screamed: An Augusta Goodnight Mystery (with Heavenly Recipes) by Mignon F. Ballard Page A

the Dulcimer Man.”
    “I saw her in the parlor,” I said, sipping gratefully on the hot spiced cider served from a pot on the hearth. “Aren’t the Fiddlesticks coming back? I passed Albert and Miranda leaving with their instruments.”
    “Nope. I believe a flute trio from the high school band is next on the agenda,” Ellis said as she added more ginger cookies to the tray on the table.
    I turned in front of the fire to get thoroughly warm before crossing back across the yard to the main house. “Better let me have a cup of that punch to take back to Idonia,” I said. “She was asking for something hot to drink.”
    Ellis laughed. “She’s already been in here. Drank two cups in here and took one back with her.”
    “Did she seem upset?”
    “No, just thirsty. I thought she was going to drink the punch bowl dry. Why?”
    I told her about Idonia’s earlier behavior. “I guess she’s just disappointed that Melrose couldn’t join her tonight.”
    “If there’s anything shady going on about that locket he gave her, Melrose DuBois had better get a running start!” Ellis said.
    In keeping with the period, we had been asked not to wear watches that night, but because long sleeves covered my wrists, I could keep mine well out of sight. It was almost eight-thirty when I returned to my post in the hallway, and every room in the old house seemed to be filled with visitors. It was easy to imagine the home as it had been in the past with friends, music, and laughter, and if a building has a spirit, this one must have been happy. Plans were for the open house to end at nine, but some of the musicians stayed longer, and several of the town’s older citizens settled down to exchange tall tales by the dining room fireside, so it was closer to ten before everyone cleared out.
    I was helping some of the docents clear away the clutter downstairs when Zee rushed into the room on the verge of tears. “Lucy Nan, something’s wrong with Idonia! You’ve got to come quick! I can’t wake her up.”
    We all raced upstairs behind her to find Idonia seated at a small writing desk in a rear bedroom, her head upon her chest. The room was close and warm because of the space heater, and Idonia, who was unaccustomed to late hours, had been out caroling the night before.
    “She’s probably just worn out,” I said, calling her name. “Idonia! Wake up! It’s time to go home.” I got no response.
    “I felt her pulse,” Zee said. “She’s breathing okay, but she seems to be out like a light.”
    By that time Nettie and Jo Nell had joined us. “She’s not on any medication, is she?” Nettie asked. “Sometimes antihistamines can make you drowsy.”
    “Nothing but a low-dose thyroid pill,” I said. Idonia was usually as healthy as a horse.
    Jo Nell sniffed at a punch cup beside her. “What’s she been drinking?”
    “Just hot spiced punch, and so have I,” I told her. “There’s nothing in there to harm her.”
    “Wait a minute … I think she’s waking up,” Zee said as Idonia blinked her eyes. “Is it time to get up?” she mumbled before closing them again.
    “That does it!” I said. “Who has a cell phone? I’m calling nine-one-one.”

o, wait! Don’t!” Nettie said. “We might be able to catch Glen Smiley before he gets away. He was talking with somebody out front just a few minutes ago. Idonia would hate it if we made a big issue of this.”
    Genevieve rushed into the hallway and hollered downstairs in her loud demanding voice for somebody to run and find the doctor. Glen Smiley graduated from high school in the class just ahead of ours and has been practicing medicine in Stone’s Throw for close to thirty years. Although his name is somewhat of a misnomer, as his bedside manner leaves something to be desired, you won’t find a better diagnostician, so I was relieved to hear the doctor’s monotone muttering in the hallway below.
    “What’s going on here, Lucy Nan?” he asked, taking the stairs in