The Ginseng Conspiracy (A Kay Driscoll Mystery) Read Free Page B

outdoors.
    We ordered a pot of Scottish afternoon tea, which I poured for us. It was good and strong, just how I liked it.
    “This is so relaxing. Exactly what I needed,” said Margaret. “I've been working all morning cleaning up my garden for the winter, getting rid of the spent plant material, and trimming branches.”
    Margaret was the last of the MacAlisters in Sudbury Falls. In her younger days, she studied drama in Minneapolis. She performed onstage at numerous theatres throughout the Twin Cities into her late thirties. After her marriage to Earl MacAlister, Margaret settled for being a regular performer at the Sudbury Falls Community Theatre.
    Earl MacAlister's family was one of the four founding families of Sudbury Falls. The Rudds owned half of the ginseng production, and the Murphys, Stewarts, and MacAlisters together owned the remaining half.
    So here, sitting across from this fascinating octogenarian who had energy just oozing out of her every pore, I listened to her talk about the mundane tasks of cleaning up her garden. Marissa arrived with a tray of delicious looking lemon meringue, cranberry streusel, and glazed apricot tarts. We tried one of each.
    “My Earl used to take care of all the trimming and gardening.” Margaret looked out the window. “I miss Earl. Life's not just.” She hesitated, then continued. “Sometimes...sometimes you can do something about it, sometimes you can't.” Margaret looked back at me. “Now I have to do things I never had to worry about when Earl was around.”
    Marissa came back into the dining room. “Well ladies, what do you think?”
    I looked from Margaret to Marissa. “The lemon tarts are delicious. What's your secret?”
    “Those are my favorite also. They're made with a sweet homemade lemon curd topped with toasted meringue. I'm trying to get the perfect blend between sweet and tart.”
    “You've succeeded, my dear. They're marvelous,” Margaret said, smiling, moving her hands dramatically to emphasize her words. “What about the cranberry tarts? I like those.”
    “I use fresh cranberries mixed with lemon zest. They're baked in the same buttery dough the apricot tarts are.”
    I smiled. “Do you realize these tarts inspire happiness and contentment?”
    “Oh, Kay! Maybe I should describe them that way on the menu. So glad you like them.” She took away the empty plate.
    “Now, tell me all about the free clinic,” Margaret said. “Getting many patients?”
    I volunteered as a registered nurse at the new free clinic in the hospital every other Tuesday evening. “It's in its sixth month now and doing well.”
    “That long? I didn't realize.”
    “And we get the maximum number we can see each night. Thirty patients. The word's getting around. We even saw some of the seasonal workers from the ginseng fields this summer. It's a godsend for those without health insurance.”
    “I'm impressed. Such a valuable resource for our community, with so many people losing their jobs.”
    “We do see people who have lost their jobs, but many have jobs. They just can't afford health insurance. I work with a Dr. Anders…you must know him?”
    “Oh, yes, he can be a little…well, I’ll reserve my judgment.” She sighed. Her eyes narrowed.
    What was with these people today? First Al seemed so unlike himself, now Margaret seemed to be holding something back at the mere mention of Dr. Anders’ name. Well, I personally found him to be a curmudgeon, but since she wasn't willing to volunteer any information about him, I wasn’t about to, either. Instead, I said, “Not to change the subject, but Margaret, did you know the Halloween Ball is this Saturday? You and Earl must have attended the Balls in the past.”
    “Earl and I went to all of them. They were the highlight of the season, my dear. We just loved dressing up, and every year we'd have close friends over for drinks and then walk over to the Civic Center together. Those balls go a long way back.” She