Agony of the Leaves: Tea Shop Mystery #13 (18 page)

“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 just 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.

“Are you kidding?” said René. “With her reputation?”

“Oh, my goodness,” said Theodosia, hanging up the phone. “What
is
going on?”

Tilting her head forward, she dropped it into her hands
and massaged the base of her neck, then moved up to the really sore spots along her occipital ridge. Had Shelby been working in concert with Peaches all along? Had everything been a big setup?

Or had Shelby engineered this on her own? Was it possible Shelby had seen that Parker was vulnerable? That she had led him on like crazy? Then somehow persuaded Parker to name her as heir and beneficiary so she could profit?

Is Shelby that much of a weasel?

Okay, she could definitely see Shelby worming her way into Parker’s life. But Shelby didn’t strike her as any kind of mastermind. So was someone else in the background pulling the strings?

Who would that be?

Theodosia’s mind continued to churn. She stood up, walked a few feet, spun around, and collapsed back into her chair.
Have to figure this out
, she told herself. Have to try to get past the shock and emotion and think logically about all this.

She sat quietly for a few minutes, exploring various theories, running permutations through her overwrought brain. And then, like a tar bubble finally oozing its way up and escaping to the earth’s surface, she thought,
Joe Beaudry?

He was sneaky enough, smarmy enough, and knew the financials firsthand. Had he somehow set this up? Had Beaudry been working behind the scenes in collusion with Peaches? Had Joe Beaudry completely duped Parker?

And then killed him?

The idea was just too horrible to contemplate.

When the ladies
from the garden club finally finished their luncheon and began exploring the tea shop and gift corner, Theodosia decided it was high time to corner Charlotte.

She found her admiring a shelf of antique teacups and the wreaths that hung on the wall.

“Your grapevine wreaths are adorable,” said Charlotte. “And I love that you decorated them with tiny teacups.” She lifted an index finger and gently touched one.

“Charlotte,” said Theodosia, “I couldn’t help overhear your conversation about Solstice being sold to Peaches Pafford.”

Charlotte’s eyes went suddenly wide, and she put a hand to her face. “Oh dear, me and my big mouth. Did I just make aboo-boo?”

“No, it’s okay,” said Theodosia. “Really.”

But Charlotte looked wary. “Really, Theodosia, it completely slipped my mind that you used to date Parker Scully.”

“That’s okay,” said Theodosia. “Truly, you didn’t offend me. But what I want to know is…how exactly did you hear about this?”

“I got the news straight from Bob Coy,” said Charlotte. “The catering manager at the Charleston Hotel. He was just coming into the City Charities office as I was leaving. We said hi and started talking and one thing led to another.”

“You’re sure about this deal?” asked Theodosia. After all, Charleston was a city that thrived on gossip. Old families and old rivalries, big money and big problems. In many ways it was not unlike along-running soap opera.

“Pretty sure,” said Charlotte.

“Wow,” said Theodosia, looking discombobulated.

“You want me to call Bob again?” asked Charlotte. “Try to track down the rumor?”

“No, no, that’s not necessary,” said Theodosia. “The news just kind of stunned me, I guess.”