Agony of the Leaves: Tea Shop Mystery #13 Page 13

  “Then you know your stuff,” said Theodosia.

  “To be honest,” said Jenny, “I was the one who kind of coached Haley on how to handle this booth.”

  “Blessings on your head, then,” said Theodosia, happy to be free, “because you know what you’re doing.” She ducked down another row of booths, hoping for a final quick look before she headed back to the tea shop.

  But rounding the corner by the India Tea Producers booth, she hit a wall of people who seemed to be going nowhere fast. And from the steamy, malty aroma permeating the air, Theodosia figured they were lined up for a taste of Assam. So Theodosia jigged left and, as if things weren’t weird enough in her life, ransmack-dab into Lyle Manship.

  “You!” she cried, rearing back. Manship was pretty much the last person she expected to see here.

  It took Manship a few seconds to recognize her. Then he said, “And you. Tea lady. We meet again.”

  “I didn’t know you were a coffee and tea aficionado,” she said.

  “I’m not,” he told her. “Truth be told, I’d rather hoist a good glass of Bordeaux or a tumbler of Jameson. But my café, Violet’s, has definitely moved in the direction of gourmet coffees and teas, so I have to stay on top of things.” He shrugged. “It’s what the market is asking for.”

  “Yes,” said Theodosia. “The market.”

  Manship squinted at her, as if he were sizing her up for something, then said, “You know a lot about tea, huh?”

  “A fair amount,” she said. “Although there are endless varieties and blends, so it seems I’m constantly learning something new.”

  “Then I might have an interesting proposition for you,” said Manship.

  Theodosia looked askance. “What’s that?”

  “Would you ever consider leading a tea cruise?” Manship asked. He held up his hand and said, “Before you answer that, let me explain a little bit.”

  “Okay.”

  “I have a friend who runs a small cruise ship line out of Miami. Insignia Cruises? Maybe you’ve heard of them?”

  “Not really,” said Theodosia. The only time she ever paid attention to cruise ships was when one of them made national news. When all the passengers came down with some weird influenza or when someone, often a newlywed for some odd reason, took a dive over the railing never to be heard from again.

  “Insignia Cruises,” Manship explained, “hassmaller-capacity ships and actually themes its various voyages. You know, shopping cruises, bridge tournament cruises…”

  “And tea cruises,” said Theodosia.

  “That’s it,” said Manship. “Their ports of call tend to be places like George Town in Grand Cayman or Nassau in the Bahamas. Major shopping ports especially geared toward the ladies, who tend to go a little gaga over all thatduty-free shopping.”

  “Isn’t Grand Cayman big with offshore banking?” Theodosia asked him.

  Manship shrugged. “There’s that, too.” He rocked back on his heels and studied her. “So. Are you interested?”

  Theodosia shook her head. Work for this sleazeball? Not on your life. “No,” she said. “No, I’m really not.”

  17

  Haley and Miss Dimple were working toe to toe in the kitchen when Theodosia returned.

  “Hey,” said Haley, looking up from the pan of sweet potato butter she was stirring. “I take it Jenny showed up as promised?”

  “She sure did,” said Theodosia. “Precisely when she said she would.”

  “Don’t you love people who keep their promises?” asked Haley. “Don’t you wish more people would honor their word about things?”

  “It would certainly make life easier,” said Theodosia. She grabbed a clean spoon, dipped it into a bowl filled with lemon curd, and took a taste. Delicious!

  “We’re talking about reliable folks like you, Miss Dimple,” said Haley, sidling over and giving her diminutive assistant a shoulder nudge. “We know we can always count on you.”

  “Like yesterday,” said Theodosia. “We can’t thank you enough. Your brother, too.”

  “Oh, I think he had fun,” said Miss Dimple. “Gave him a chance to mix with people and be pedantic.”

  “You guys were real troopers,” Haley told Miss Dimple.

  Miss Dimple grinned from ear to ear and ducked her head. “You’re all such loves,” she cooed. “Which is why it’s always so much fun to work here.”

  “You hear that?” Haley chortled, “she thinks it’s fun. It’s not just a job, it’s an adventure.”

  “Excuse me,” said Drayton, as he pushed his way into the kitchen to join them. “Is someone all gung ho and planning to enlist? Looking for adventure, et al.?”

  “That’s right, Drayton,” said Haley, as she pulled a baking sheet of biscuits from the oven. “I’ve developed a sudden hankering to tap my inner machismo and jump out of helicopters. Or helos, as the guys call them nowadays.”

  “Then you should join the National Guard,” said Miss Dimple. “I have a friend whose granddaughter joined the Guard and she’s just crazy about driving Humvees all over the place.”

  “Humvees?” said Haley, her eyes lighting up. “Now that’s what I call fun!”

  “You need help in the tea room?” Theodosia asked Drayton.

  “Not quite yet,” said Drayton. “Miss Dimple’s been running orders in and out and doing a superb job.”

  “Oh, Drayton,” Miss Dimple said, turning a primrose pink. “How you do go on.”

  “But in twenty minutes or so when our garden club guests arrive,” said Drayton, “then I shall need you, my dear Theo, to play genial hostess and chat everyone up.”

  “Chatting’s my thing,” said Theodosia.

  “So how was the expo?” asked Drayton.

  “Very impressive,” said Theodosia. “And much larger than I thought it would be. Lots of vendors.”

  “That’s good,” said Drayton. “How about attendance? Haley seemed to think it was busy enough.”

  “It seems to be drawing a good crowd,” said Theodosia.

  “Are you worried about your lecture this afternoon?” Haley asked. “Not enough people in the audience?”

  “That’s really the last thing on my mind,” said Drayton. He shifted his attention back to Theodosia. “Did you see the enormous bouquet of flowers that arrived?”

  “Pink roses and peach hydrangeas,” said Miss Dimple. “A spectacular arrangement with an aroma to die for. It practically overpowers all of Drayton’s teas.”

  “Let me guess,” said Theodosia. “The garden club sent the bouquet over? To grace their luncheon table?”

  “Exactly,” said Drayton. “Which Miss Dimple and I have set with Jason English bone china and Reed and Barton flatware.”

  “Huh,” said Haley. “The fancy stuff.”

  “That’s because they’re fancy ladies,” said Miss Dimple. “They all have big homes and big gardens.”

  “And big money,” Haley added.

  “Wait until you see what’s on the other tables,” Drayton said to Theodosia.

  “What?” she said.

  Drayton smiled. “Our dear Miss Dimple took all those plants Aunt Libby sent home with you yesterday and planted them in those chipped teacups you were going to toss.”

  “Seriously?” said Theodosia.

  “You should see them,” chimed in Haley. “Adorable. With all the leaves and stuff you can’t even see the chipped rims.”

  “Those plants were beginning to wilt and the teacups seemed too nice to throw in the garbage,” said Miss Dimple.

  “You’re an angel,” Theodosia told Miss Dimple, who blushed furiously at her words.

  “But now to work,” said Drayton, doing a quick check of Haley’s prep table. “Kindly remind me, Haley, our first course today shall be chilled soup?”

  “Righto,” said Haley. “Summer gazpacho with Parmesan crisps.”

  “Mmm,” said Miss Dimple, wrinkling her nose. “And are those Parmesan crisps ever good. Easy to make, too. Haley ju
st mounded little bits of cheese on a baking sheet and a few minutes later, poof! Thin little puddles of cheesy delight.”

  “Moving to a summer menu puts me in the mood to brew a pot of my cinnamon summer blend,” said Drayton.

  “Then why don’t you?” said Theodosia. “It would be especially lovely with our main course of chicken divan and hot biscuits.”

  “Yes, it would,” said Drayton, looking pleased.

  Everyone put their noses to the grindstone then, while Theodosia ducked back into her office. There was a pile of invoices stacked on top of her desk and if she didn’t sift through it and mark exactly which ones should be paid, nobody would receive their check.

  So that was what she did for fifteen minutes, working quickly, approving most, putting a couple on the back burner because of incomplete deliveries. But all the while, in the back of Theodosia’s mind, was alow-level rumble about Parker. A feeling that she should have figured out more than she did. That she should be working dutifully on finding a suspect.

  Finally, Theodosia put down her pen, scrunched around in her chair until she found a comfy pose, and stared at the wall across from her desk. Tried to zone out and let random ideas come floating into her mind.

  Because, for some strange reason, like a cluster of auspicious planetary aspects in the western sky, a number of suspects seemed to have lined up nice and neatly. Peaches Pafford was one, simply because she’d been trying to wrest control of Solstice from Parker.

  Then there was Lyle Manship, slightly shady and a touch aggressive, who had also been working on a deal with Parker. A deal that had recently fallen through.

  David Sedakis seemed like a reasonable suspect, too. Mostly because he’d jilted Parker businesswise and then the murder had happened right under his nose at the aquarium he headed. So Sedakis had access.

  Of course, Shelby was still rattling around in the mix, and so was Joe Beaudry, the lawyer who’d been analmost-partner.

  And there was something else, too. Something pinging around inside Theodosia’s brain that she couldn’t quite access. Was it something she’d seen? Something she’d heard? Theodosia tried to dredge it up and couldn’t.

  Hmm. Maybe later. Maybe my mind will cough it up.

  So, when all was said and done, what exactly was she left with? Theodosia slipped out of her ballet flats, wiggled her toes, and let them sink into the Persian carpet. What indeed? There were suspects with motives, motives that were a little foggy, and no proof toconvict—or at leastarrest—anyone at all.

  And, strangely enough, everyone seemed to keep circling around Solstice and around her. What was thattried-and-true maxim? The killer always returns to the scene of the crime?

  So…had anyone returned?

  Theodosia tapped a finger against her desk and frowned. Actually, they never really left.

  Theodosia’s friend Sarah Stillwell was no longer president of the Broad Street Garden Club, but a friendly, bubbly socialite by the name of Charlotte Webster had taken her place. Charlotte was a dynamo in apale-peach suit andcream-colored straw hat who ushered in eight expectant garden club members, then carefully orchestrated their seats around the large circular table. Their flowers sat center stage while tiny flames from tall, pink tapers danced and flickered, causing the dishes, crystal, and flatware to sparkle.

  “Perfection!” Charlotte declared, then immediately grabbed Theodosia by the arm and introduced herself. “I’m so happy to meet you,” she gushed. “And so delighted you could accommodate our little group with just a few days’ notice.”

  “We’re delighted to have you,” said Theodosia. It was always fun to host a larger group. Let the Indigo Tea Shop show its stuff, so to speak. She glanced around the table, smiling at each guest, then said, “We have afour-course menu for you today, beginning with our famous cranberry oat scones served with generous dollops of lemon curd. The second course consists of a summer gazpacho, made withfresh-picked tomatoes, sweet onions, andhome-grown cucumbers.”

  There was a spatter of applause.

  For your luncheon entrée,” Theodosia continued, “we’ll be serving chicken divan accompanied by baby spring peas and hot biscuits. And, last but not least, we shall try to enchant you with our famousthree-tiered trays filled with chocolate bars, Charleston pecan brownie bars, and miniature cheesecakes.”

  “For yourtea-drinking enjoyment,” said Drayton, “I’ve brewed pots offull-bodied Lapsang souchong as well as my proprietary cinnamon summer blend. And, please, if one or the other isn’t quite to your liking, be sure to let me know your preference. We have more than three hundred varieties ofloose-leaf tea in stock here at the Indigo Tea Shop, so I’m sure I can find one exactly right for you.”

  Miss Dimple carried out a tray piled with scones, and Theodosia, using her silver serving tongs, gently placed one on everyone’s plate. The scones were followed by individual footed glass dishes filled with lemon curd.

  Some fifteen minutes later, after receiving oohs and ahhs and doing refills on tea, they served the gazpacho garnished with Parmesan crisps. And once soup spoons began todelicately clink, Theodosia pulled herself away for a short breather.

  Or thought she was, because just as customers vacated two of their smaller tables, Delaine and Majel came spilling in.

  “Oh, you’re frightfully busy!” exclaimed Delaine, glancing around. She seemed keenly disappointed that Theodosia was doing so well. “And with the garden club yet. Hello, ladies!” she cooed and got friendly hellos back in return. Delaine had once served as vice president but had stepped down to pay more attention to her retail shop. Now she turned an unhappy gaze on Theodosia. “You’re practically filled!”

  “Not to worry,” said Theodosia. “Space may be at a premium, but I’ll always find room for the two of you.”

  “Glad to hear it,” Delaine chirped. “Since I’ve pretty much become a regular here!”

  “You certainly are,” Theodosia agreed. She grabbed two tea menus, then ushered Delaine and Majel to a table that Miss Dimple had hastily cleared and set.

  “Seems to me,” said Delaine, looking ratherself-important, “there should be some sort of polite acknowledgment of my patronage.” Her eyes lit up. “Perhaps a small brass plaque on one of the tables?”

  “Let me think about that,” Theodosia told her. For about two seconds.

  “Or are you too busy investigating?” asked Delaine. She smirked and rolled her eyes.

  Majel, bless her soul, defused the moment. “This is such a treat!” she exclaimed. “To be able to enjoy a proper tea two days running.”

  “It does kind of get in your blood,” Delaine confided.

  “I’m glad you were able to make it to Aunt Libby’s place yesterday,” Theodosia told Majel.

  “Oh, my goodness,” said Majel. “It wasn’t only just a marvelous event, it was also aneye-opener. Everything about the tea service was so elegant and perfect.” She hunched forward in her chair, and a look of hopefulness crossed her face. “Theodosia, I know this is probably a huge imposition—I mean, you’re already doing so much for us with your participation in the scavenger hunt. But I’d be thrilled if you came out to Angel’s Rest sometime and gave an etiquette lesson to our girls.”

  Delaine smiled a knowing smile. “Angel’s Rest is the summer camp that Tuesday’s Child owns and operates.” She rolled her eyes for added emphasis. “Very worthwhile. I’m planning to host a majorfund-raiser myself.”

  “Where’s your camp located?” Theodosia asked.

  “Over near Early Branch,” Majel explained. “Close to the Salkahartchie River.”

  “Where it’s all pretty and woodsy,” said Delaine.

  “I’d like very much to come visit,” said Theodosia. “In fact, I’d be honored.” She could think of nothing nicer than teaching a group of at-risk girls the fine art of tea. Anytime you could impart a tiny bit of gentility in someone’s life, it helped nurture the soul.

  Theodosia was just starting to clear dishes when she happened to
overhear a shocking bit of gossip.

  “You know that young woman who inherited the restaurant?” said Charlotte.

  The two women to either side of her nodded. One of them said, “Solstice?”

  “That’s right,” said Charlotte. “Anyway, I just heard that she struck a deal to sell the place.”

  Theodosia practically dropped the tray she was balancing. What? Shelby was selling Solstice? Two days after inheriting it? What on earth was going on?

  Theodosia did a little more eavesdropping.

  “I just heard about it this morning,” Charlotte continued. “When I dropped by the City Charities office on my way here. Apparently Peaches Pafford struck a deal with the young woman to buy the place.”

  “The girl is probably happy to be rid of it,” said Charlotte’s companion. “And darned lucky that a businesswoman of Peaches’s caliber would take it off her hands.”

  Theodosia set her tray down on a nearby empty table and took a step backward. The blood seemed to have drained from her face; her legs felt heavy and wooden as she staggered over to the front counter.

  How could this happen? Theodosia wondered. For goodness’ sake, she’d just seen Shelby last night and the girl hadn’t uttered a peep about selling Solstice! Not only that, she’d talked to Peaches a couple of hours ago and the woman hadn’t let on a thing. What was going on?

  “I have to talk to her,” Theodosia muttered to no one, then fled to her office.

  But a quick phone call to Shelby’s cell phone got her nowhere. And trying to reach her at Solstice proved impossible. René answered, but he didn’t know where she was.

  “But you know about the sale?” asked Theodosia. “That Shelby is selling Solstice to Peaches Pafford?”

  “Are you kidding?” said René. “We just heard!”

  “Are you in shock?”

  “More like we’re in mourning,” said René. “I guess we’ll all have to pump up our résumés and make some calls.”

  “You wouldn’t want to work for Peaches?” asked Theodosia.