More laughter.
But not from me.
No matter how much he drank, Murph never stumbled. He was a master at hiding his inebriation. What was going on?
“So please raise your glasses—” He stumbled again.
I stood. “Murph, are you—”
“Yeah. Not feeling great,” he said. “Steel, I’m sorry, man.” The flute fell from his grasp and landed with a soft plop on the grass underneath his feet.
His body followed.
Damn! First the bride fainted at the end of the ceremony, and now the best man passed out in a drunken stupor? What the hell kind of wedding was this? My heart raced.
“Brad,” Daphne said frantically. “Is he all right?”
“Of course he’s not all right. He’s shitfaced. At our wedding. For God’s sake, Murph!”
Patty reached him before I did. “Should I do my toast now?” she asked.
“I don’t know. Fuck.” I smacked Murph in the cheek a couple times. “Murph, Murph. Wake up!”
My father came forward as well. “Should we call an ambulance?”
“For what? He’s just toasted.”
“Sozzled,” Ennis said, who had come to join Patty. “Though I didn’t see him drink a lot.”
“He didn’t,” Patty agreed. “He had a beer after the ceremony, no wine with dinner, and he hasn’t taken a sip of champagne yet.”
“Watching him that closely, eh?” Ennis said.
“Ennis, Sean and I are over. I’ve told you that. This is a little bit more important than your jealousy.”
“You’re right, love. I’m sorry.” Then, to me, “I don’t think he’s drunk, mate. Something else is going on.”
I’d been dealing with Larry, so I had no idea how much Murph had drunk. Both Patty and Ennis hadn’t seen him drink a lot. What the hell was going on?
“Could be anything,” my father said. “He might be ill. Or…”
“Or what?”
“He might have been drugged.”
“Who the hell would—”
I looked up and met Theo’s gaze. He was frowning. Then I met Tom’s. His expression was stoic. Icy as usual.
They were getting into pot. Not anything that could take down a grown man after one beer. Besides, what did they have against Murph? They didn’t have any reason to screw up my wedding.
No, this could only be the work of one person—and that person was locked up at Piney Oaks.
I met my father’s gaze.
He shook his head slightly.
Good. It wasn’t Wendy. The good doctor had drugged her as my father commanded.
What was going on, then?
“Murph! Come on!” I tried once again to rouse him.
“Get him inside,” Dad said. “I’ll brew some coffee. Put him under a cold shower. If that doesn’t wake him up, nothing will.”
I grabbed Murph’s dead weight and slung him over my shoulder. “Come on, dude.”
My mother stood. “Please, enjoy your champagne. When Brad gets back, he and Daphne will cut this beautiful cake.”
I carried my friend into the house and to one of the spare bedrooms that wasn’t being used. With my father’s help, we got him stripped down to his boxers and under a cold stream of water.
My heart had been beating double time since he passed out, but when he didn’t come to in the shower, my apprehension turned to icy fear.
Dad pressed his fingers to Murph’s neck. “He still has a pulse. That’s good. We need to get him to an emergency room. Get your truck.”
“Dad, it’s my wedding day.”
“All right. I’ll take him. We can call the squad, but by the time they get here, I’ll have him to the city.”
Murph was my best friend. I should go along.
But I’d just gotten married. Hell, my guests were still here.
We hadn’t cut the damned cake yet.
And Daphne…
My Daphne, who was finally feeling stronger after her fainting spell.
What would this do to her?
“All right, Dad. Thank you. Take good care of him.”
Dad got Murph wrapped in a giant bath towel and picked him up like a baby. My father’s lungs weren’t in great shape, but still he was strong as an ox.
“I’ll call when I have news. Get back to your party.”
Chapter Thirty
Daphne
I gulped down a sob that threatened to come hurtling out of my throat.
Some wedding.
First I fainted.
Then the best man fainted.
Who’d be next?
Was this all foreshadowing of something horrible to come?
I didn’t want to entertain the thought.
Brad returned to the party, the front of his white tux shirt wet. He’d removed his jacket and bow tie, and his shirt was unbuttoned.
Even as fatigued and sick as I felt, he looked yummy to me.
“How is he?” I asked frantically.
“I don’t know. Dad’s taking him to the ER.”
I gulped. “You couldn’t wake him up?”
He shook his head somberly. “No. I couldn’t.”
I said nothing more. What was there to say? Sean was one of Brad’s best friends.
“I’m so sorry for the disruption,” Mazie was saying, standing by the cake. “Brad, Daphne, if you’d like to come on up, I know everyone is anxious to try this gorgeous cake.”
I was hardly anxious. At least the cake didn’t have a smell I had to deal with, like the roast beef had. I couldn’t tell Brad the smell of his family’s beef made me want to toss my cookies.