“We got another one,” Jimmy concluded, looking down at Levon.

“Someone else has been drugged?” I asked, trying to keep my voice casual and sort of insinuate the question.

“Yes’m,” Jimmy said, not catching the warning look Levon was trying to send him. “Lady last week left her purse in the cart in the grocery while she walked over to the frozen section to get some Ore-Ida hash browns. When she was driving home, she took a pill from a fancy case in her purse, that she used to carry her-well, some prescription medicine-with her. Instead of getting tranquil, she went nuts.”

“What did she do?” I asked, fascinated.

“Well…”Jimmy began, treating me to a grin that told me the story was going to be a good one.

“We need to be getting this back to SPACOLEC,” Levon said pointedly.

“Huh? Oh, right.” Jimmy, aware he’d been on the verge of indiscretion, flushed to the roots of his reddish hair. “When one of Darius’s kids shows up, we’ll tell them you’d appreciate them moving the truck. The keys were in Darius’s pants. I coulda brought ‘em out here, if you’d mentioned them over the phone.”

I flushed guiltily. I’d been so excited over finding the pills, I had forgotten why we’d looked in Darius’s truck in the first place.

I watched as their car turned out of our long driveway and began the short stretch into Lawrenceton, piqued that I hadn’t gotten to hear the rest of Jimmy’s story. I wondered if my friend Sally Allison, a reporter for our local paper, had heard anything.

“I have to go back to the plant for a little while,” Martin said unenthusiastically. “I have a stack of letters to sign that need to go out.” He climbed back in his car, started it, and rolled down the window as I turned toward the kitchen door. “Don’t forget,” he called, “we’ve got dinner at the Lowrys’ house tonight.” The rain picked up a little momentum.

“I have it on the calendar,” I called back, trying not to sound dismal.