Page 54 of The Women of Wild Hill

Someone kept yapping in her ear. Brigid wasn’t sure who it was.

They’d been introduced, of course. She just didn’t give a damn about the Mattauk homeowners association or offshore tax shelters or whatever mind-numbing subject the woman had moved on to.

Brigid was too busy watching Liam at the bar on the opposite side of the lawn party.

He was chatting with the young bartender who was making their drinks.

With his white linen shirt rolled up to his elbows and his chinos turned up at the cuff, he looked like a photo from Take Ivy.

She watched him lift a loafer and mindlessly scratch the back of his ankle.

He must have said something funny because the bartender burst into laughter as he finished Brigid’s Dark ’n’ Stormy.

When Liam turned around, he was still grinning.

He winked at Brigid from across the lawn, and her heart fluttered like a bird trapped behind her ribs.

Ivy used to warn the girls that even the most powerful witches had weaknesses.

One day, they would find theirs. Brigid had always assumed hers was pot.

Now that seemed like an innocent hobby. She’d finally discovered her own personal kryptonite—the relentlessly preppy CEO of an evil media empire.

As much as she tried, she couldn’t convince herself it was all just a sex thing, though the sex was certainly spectacular.

No, she had to admit she loved being around him.

And not just because he laughed at her jokes.

Now he was here, like a white knight come to rescue her.

“Pardon me,” he told the yapping lady. “Do you mind if I borrow my lovely date?”

“A pleasure,” Brigid told the woman. “Don’t take me too far,” she said as Liam whisked her away. She’d promised Phoebe she wouldn’t leave the party without Sibyl. Never before had she been forced to show such restraint.

“DID I TELL YOU HOW stunning you look tonight?” Liam asked when they finally came to a stop. They were standing alone at the end of a pier, watching the other partygoers from a safe distance. He was so close to her that she got a whiff of his rich, mossy scent, which left her lightheaded.

“You did,” Brigid confirmed. “Did I happen to mention that you’re fine as fuck?”

“Yes, and I immediately contacted my lawyers to ensure that epitaph will be carved into my tombstone. Here lies Liam Geddes. Fine as Fuck. Too bad I’ll never have any descendants to be impressed by the legends.”

“No children for you?” she asked.

“I think it’s best if the Geddes line ends with me. Don’t you?”

“I thought that’s why men hoard money—to ensure their spermlets rule the earth.”

“They call it generational wealth,” he said. “I’d rather spend all my money on you.”

“No need,” Brigid told him. “I have more than enough of my own.”

“Well then, how about we pool our cash and take over the world.” He leaned down and kissed her. She felt something strange pass between them, but before she could make sense of it, the moment was ruined by a hideous cackle from somewhere in the crowd.

“Why do you go to these parties?” she asked. Every time she felt like she might float off into the clouds, something would yank her back down again. “These people are terrible.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he said. “They all look fairly normal to me. Aside from all the Botox and filler.”

“They’re in disguise. They seem normal until you talk to them and find out they all murder puppies for a living.”

Liam tsked. “No one here murders puppies, silly. That would be breaking the unwritten laws of the ruling class. People are expendable, but dogs are strictly off-limits.”

“That’s not a very funny joke,” she informed him.

“Who said I was joking?”

Her mood was beginning to sour. “I just don’t understand.”

He seemed to sense the change and adjusted his tone. “What don’t you understand?”

“Why you would choose this.” They’d never been so serious together.

“We’re all given our role in life,” Liam told her. “I’m simply playing the cards I’ve been dealt.”

It wasn’t an answer. It was just an excuse. “It must have been terribly difficult being born holding a royal flush.”

“You’re assuming you know how I plan to play it.” Liam kept the tone light, but Brigid detected a hint of annoyance.

“Don’t I?” she asked.

“Are psychic powers among your many gifts? By the way, it’s rich of you to criticize my hand when you were born with four aces.”

Brigid would have taken the bait if a giant hadn’t chosen that very moment to rise from the depths. A whale breached a hundred feet from the end of the dock, launching itself into the air and twisting around before landing on its side. The spray hit them right in the face.

“I guess she didn’t want us to argue.” Liam was laughing as he used a shirtsleeve to wipe his eyes.

Brigid wasn’t amused. “Let’s just head back to the party,” she said. The Old One had made herself clear. Shut up and do your job.

Seconds later, they stepped off the pier and into the company of a man in an ascot and seersucker pants who’d been patiently waiting to ambush them.

“Liam!” he called out, waving as though he’d just spotted them. “There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you.”

“Another puppy killer?” Brigid muttered under her breath.

“Oh, even better,” Liam told her. He held out a hand and the man latched on to it with both of his. “Vernon Cage, allow me to introduce my date, Brigid Laguerre. Brigid, say hello to Vernon. They call him the man with the golden tongue.”

Brigid shook the man’s hand. “Porn star, I take it?” she asked. “Finally, Liam’s introduced me to someone interesting.”

Liam, who’d just taken a sip of Scotch, nearly choked on his drink. Cage responded with the practiced, professional laugh of a talk show host. “Afraid I’m neither that interesting nor that well-endowed. I’m just a humble PR man.”

“Hardly,” Liam managed to sputter between coughs. They waited until he recovered. “Vernon’s the best in the business. He specializes in crisis management. The biggest corporations on earth all have him on speed dial. He’s the first person they call whenever something goes wrong.”

“And then I call you,” Vernon offered magnanimously.

“AMN doesn’t even write the script for these things.

We just say what Vernon tells us to say.

He’s the man you want on your side if you’ve just dumped a tanker worth of oil on a coral reef or killed off an entire ecosystem with toxic waste from a train derailment.

Remember when that CEO’s kid went on a bender and shot up a Planned Parenthood?

Vernon here’s the one who turned him into a hero. ”

“You don’t say?” Brigid was glad when Liam reached down and took her hand. Otherwise, she might have murdered their charming acquaintance right out in the open.

“I’ll admit, that was quite the challenge,” Vernon said with an aww-shucks chuckle.

“Makes our little incident the other night look fairly minor, does it not?”

“Which incident?” Brigid demanded.

“Darling,” Liam chided her. “Surely you haven’t forgotten that the corpse of a handsome junior senator washed up on the beach at my last party.”

“Oh, that,” Brigid said.

“It was such a tragedy. I worry she’s still in shock.

” Vernon offered a sympathetic nod while Liam gave Brigid’s hand a light squeeze.

“I asked Vernon to take a very discreet look into the unfortunate incident. Monitor all the social media traffic. Make sure our names aren’t getting mixed up in the story. ”

“And you’ll be pleased to hear that your names are rarely mentioned in conjunction with Senator Jacobs’s death. There seem to be some rather fascinating conspiracy theories bubbling up, but they don’t involve either of you.”

Brigid’s curiosity was piqued. “What conspiracy theories?”

“Well, I’m sure you’ve noticed that quite a few important men have died in unusual ways over the past couple of years.”

“Important men die just like everyone else, unfortunately,” Liam said. “I’ve been trying to find a way around the inevitable, but so far I’ve come up short.”

Brigid’s eye landed on a conspicuous cloud of curly red hair weaving around the chignons and side parts. Sibyl stepped out of the crowd with a platter balanced on one hand. As her niece drew closer, Brigid could see the plate held bruschetta topped with what appeared to be mushrooms.

“Yes, but these men all appear to be linked by their cause of death,” Vernon was saying.

“Birds, spiders—now Senator Jacobs with the jellyfish. A lot of people are pointing to that fire out on Culling Pointe a couple of years ago. They seem to think that’s connected as well. Apparently, the bushes that caught fire were an invasive species.”

“So they’re saying Mother Nature’s a serial killer?” Brigid’s laugh didn’t sound as lighthearted as she would have liked.

Vernon didn’t laugh at all. “They’re not pointing the finger at Mother Nature. Crazy as it sounds, they’ve zeroed in on a woman in Mattauk who’s known as a witch. They seem to think that she may have started a cult.”

“A witch cult, you say?” Sibyl asked as she walked up to the group. “Where do I join?”

The man looked at the young woman with the tray in her hand with utter astonishment. His face said not only that he wasn’t used to hearing the help speak, he wasn’t aware that they could.

“This is my niece, Sibyl,” Brigid informed him. She felt Liam’s grip on her hand tighten as though to prevent her from taking a swing.

“Bill Rogers begged and pleaded for her to cater the event,” Liam added. “Sibyl owns the Green Lady in Manhattan.”

In an instant, the clouds went away and the sun came out as Vernon Cage’s entire expression changed. “Oh, of course!” he said. “You’re Sibyl Duncan-Fox. Such an absolute thrill to meet you. New York City went into mourning when we heard your restaurant would be closed for the summer.”

As he took Sibyl’s free hand, time flashed forward for Brigid. She saw him, eyes bugged, tongue out, face purple, and hands clutching his throat as he staggered forward and collapsed face-first on a flower bed.

“And what do we have here?” she heard him say.

“Wild mushroom bruschetta,” Sibyl told him. “I picked the mushrooms myself on our family estate just down the road.”

Brigid lurched back into the present, grabbing her niece as she stumbled forward and knocked the platter to the ground.

“Oh goodness.” Vernon stared mournfully at the little toasts that littered the ground. “I was so looking forward to that.”

Liam signaled to a waiter, who rushed over, setting a tray of drinks down on a nearby table and dropping to one knee to clean up the mess.

“No worries,” Sibyl told him. “There are lots of other trays circulating. Let me see if I can grab someone.”

“What?” Brigid asked weakly. How many people had Sibyl poisoned already? How long would it take to connect her niece to the murders? What horrible things would Phoebe do to Brigid for letting Sibyl out of her sight?

“Well, at least we won’t be short on drinks while we wait.” Vernon plucked a glass off the tray the waiter had set down and drained half in one gulp. Then he looked down at the glass and studied its contents. “This is unusual. I’ve never had anything like it. What is it?”

“You’ve never had a gin fizz?” Liam said.

“Of course not. They have egg whites,” Vernon responded.

“Oh my god. You’re not the guest who’s allergic, are you?” Sibyl asked.

Vernon’s mouth opened, but he couldn’t answer. His hands clutched his throat as his tongue visibly swelled.

“Oh shit!” Sibyl gasped.

“Help!” Brigid screamed. “Does anyone here have an EpiPen?” She already knew the answer. The Old One never changed her mind. Vernon Cage’s fate was sealed. She rushed behind him as he stumbled forward and collapsed onto a hydrangea. “Is there a doctor here? He can’t breathe!”

The country’s top cardiac surgeon attempted an emergency tracheotomy with a metal straw, but by the time he was finished, Vernon was already dead.

Brigid looked up to see a man taking a picture of the scene.