Agony of the Leaves: Tea Shop Mystery #13 (2 page)

Theodosia nodded. “I know.”

“I hope that’s not why you’re dodging all the champagne and merriment.”

“It’s not,” Theodosia told him. She gave a shrug, easy to do in her cuteone-shouldered number. “Parker and I are just fine.” She and Parker had had their talk, a very frank discussion about ending theirtwo-year relationship, and now things were simpatico. At least she assumed they were. “I’m cool, he’s cool,” she told Drayton.

“Excellent,” said Drayton. He peered down his aquiline nose. “Then I suppose you’ve already spoken with Parker tonight?”

“No, just to Chef Toby.” Toby Crisp was the executive chef at Solstice, the one who created tapas for the bar andlow-country cuisine for the dining room and kept the kitchen humming. “But I’m positive Parker’s around somewhere. I’m sure I’ll run into him.”

Drayton stepped away from the glass, then hesitated. “Ourbursting-his-buttons executive director, David Sedakis, is slated to give a welcoming speech in another ten minutes or so.” He glanced down and tapped his watch, an antique Patek Phillipe. “Actually, five minutes.”

“And you’re thinking it would be politically correct if I were there,” said Theodosia, “since Sedakis also sits on the board of your beloved Heritage Society?”

“Your applause would be most welcome.”

“Then I’ll be there.”

Drayton gave the short half bow of a fencing instructor and quickly departed, while Theodosia, in no hurry to rejoin the boisterous crowd, turned her attention back to the Ocean Wall.

What was the hypnotic pull, she wondered, that the sea had on her? She bent forward and touched her cheek against
the coolness of the glass. Probably, she decided, it harked back to sailing on her dad’s J-22—sluicing through the waves, running the slots between Sullivan’s Island andPatriot’s Point. She could practically picture the yellow spinnaker booming and billowing like mad, feel her hands on the wheel, recall that her dad’s strong hands had hovered just inches away.

Good times.

Theodosia was alone now, both parents long dead. In fact, her only living relative was her Aunt Libby, who lived at Cane Ridge Plantation. But she had Drayton and Haley, who were practically family, as well as an entire contingent of dear friends and customers who congregated almost daily in her tea shop.

I’m lucky. I’m one of the lucky ones.

Her eyes closed and a smile drifted across her face as a wave of gratitude swept through her, stirring her heart.

Because these days…

Something pecked at the glass. A gentle tap. Theodosia didn’t so much hear it as sense a vibration.

Her eyes opened slowly, her curiosity roused. She stared into the tank.

For a few seconds, Theodosia couldn’t quite figure out what she was staring at. Or what was staring back. The thickness of the glass magnified and distorted whatever creature was peering at her.

She tilted her head, curious. Then, like a morning mist suddenly burning off, her eyes focused and she was able to see exactly what was happening.

A face bobbed close to hers! A human face! Papery white skin leached of color, eyes rolled back so far that only the whites were visible.

Theodosia clapped a hand to her mouth, horrified but unable to look away. Her rapidly darting eyes took in the entire bizarre scene of a man gently bobbing in the tank,
hopelessly entwined in some kind of net. His facial expression was a death grimace. Then, a floating, almost disembodied hand seemed to slowly rise up and scratch tentatively at the glass.

Oh no! Please, no!

Theodosia’s world suddenly lurched crazily on its axis. Because bizarrely, horrifically, she
recognized
the signet ring on the dead man’s left hand!

If she hadn’t, Theodosia wouldn’t have known it was her former boyfriend!

“Parker?” she gasped.

Her legs turning to jelly, panic coursing through her, Theodosia sank to her knees as the horror of what was happening, here and now, closed in around her like a dank rag dripping with chloroform. Her respiration came in short, biting gasps, but the air didn’t seem to be getting to her lungs. She felt close to blacking out as a strange darkness, oppressive like a damp, threatening fog, threatened to overtake her.

Balling both hands into fists, Theodosia beat futilely against the glass wall. How could this happen? How could this
be
happening? Her former boyfriend bobbing like a cork before her very eyes!

Clawing at the glass now, Theodosia let loose a low moan as Parker’s body twisted in the netting that wrapped around him, scattering fish like frightened lemmings. Could they sense his death, too? Did they feel her shock and dread? Were they absorbing the sound waves of her desperate beating against the glass?

It was only when a moray eel made a lazy circle about Parker’s head that Theodosia thought to scream out loud.

It was your
basic nightmare aftermath. And even though the Charleston Fire Department’s rescue squad arrived in record time, there was no rescue, only a sad recovery.

“I can’t believe it,” Theodosia told Drayton. “We were just talking about him.” Her lips felt stiff, as if they’d been shot with Novocain, and her entire being felt completely detached from what was happening around her. Probably, Theodosia decided, she was in the throes of mild shock.

Of course, I’m in shock. Who wouldn’t be?

Drayton, along with Haley, her young baker and chef extraordinaire, tried to lend support. Drayton, in particular, was a brick.

Balling her fists up, Theodosia wiped at her eyes. She saw shiny sparkles and felt hard grit. “Tell me this isn’t happening,” she muttered in a hoarse voice.

“It’s happening,” said a glum Haley. Usually saucy and cute with herstick-straight blond hair and pert nose, Haley looked like she’d been dragged through the mill. Hershoulders
slumped, her normally bright and mischievous eyes had lost their sparkle. Instead of looking like she was in her early twenties, she looked like she’d aged twenty years.

There was a clank of metal and then Drayton said, “Come on, let’s find an office or someplace where we can regroup. Maybe have a cup of tea.” He put a hand on Theodosia’s shoulder, trying to pull her away.

But the clanking had gotten louder and Theodosia knew exactly what was going on. The same fire and rescue squad that had hung down over the tank and pulled Parker out had loaded his body onto a gurney and were now wheeling him out into the corridor where they were standing.

“You really don’t want to see him like this,” said Drayton, in a tone that was sharper than usual.

But Theodosia had other ideas. “Please,” she told him. “I want to. I have to.”

As the gurney rolled closer, she shook free of Drayton’s grasp and rushed over to it. Wrapping a hand around its cold metal railing, she said to the two firemen who were wheeling it, “Please wait, I need to see him.”

One of the firemen, an older man whose name tag read M
ORLEY
, said, “No, you really don’t, ma’am.”

“Please,” Theodosia said again, “I promise I won’t fall apart.”

An EMT, an earnest-looking young African American in a navy-blue jumpsuit with red-and-white shoulder patches, had been following a few paces behind the gurney. Overhearing snips of their conversation, he shifted his medical bag from one hand to the other and said, “It’s not a pretty sight.”

“I know that!” Theodosia snapped. “I’m the one who found him.”

There were a few moments of hesitation on the part of the men, and then Morley gazed at Theodosia withsympathy-filled brown eyes. “Your call,” he told her.

Theodosia nodded.

Morley grimaced, then reached for the zipper tab on the black vinyl body bag. His big hand fumbled for a few moments, and then he gave a short jerk and tugged it down until the body bag was halfway open.

“Oh jeez!” Haley clapped a hand to her mouth and stepped back. “Oh man!” she cried out again, spinning away. It was just too much for her.

But Theodosia, her back ramrod stiff, stood next to the gurney, staring down at her ex-boyfriend. She took in his papery skin, closed but slightly bulging eyes, and white lips. And found it inconceivable that this relatively young man, always so full of life and big ideas, could suddenly be dead. And dead from drowning. A shudder passed through her and Theodosia wondered if poor Parker was resting safely in the Lord’s arms now. She certainly hoped he was. Believed he was. When she was alone tonight, back in her little cottage where she could grieve in private, she’d light a candle and offer some special prayers.

“Okay?” asked the EMT. He seemed worried that she might faint. Didn’t know the steel she had in her. “Okay to take him now?” he asked.

Theodosia continued to stare down at Parker’s body, even as she felt Drayton step up behind her. He was offering both sympathy and strength, and she appreciated that. But at the same time, he tugged on her arm, urging her to back away. To let Parker go.

“Theo?” said Drayton.

Reluctant to just turn her back on Parker’s body, Theodosia let loose a sigh of resignation. And noted that Parker’s mouth had been frozen into an O, almost as if he’d been surprised to be rescued, after all. Even though it had all come too late.

The firemen and EMT shifted back and forth, nervously, restlessly. Probably, they just wanted to complete their job and go home.

Finally, Morley said, “Just slipped off the overhead walkway, I guess.” He, too, seemed in need of an explanation.

The other fireman nodded. “There’s a whole tangle of walkways over that main tank. All metal. Probably slippery as heck.”

“Never should have allowed people to takebehind-the-scenes tours,” added the EMT.

Morley bent forward to rezip the bag, but now the zipper was jammed. It didn’t want to close. He tried a second time, unsuccessfully. Frowning, he quickly unzipped the bag all the way down, creating a ripping sound. He meant to start clean from the bottom, but in so doing, revealed Parker’s hands, which were folded loosely across his chest.

Instead of stepping away and letting the fireman fuss, Theodosia cocked her head and stared intently.

What…on…earth?

Her heart gave a lurch and a tiny hit of adrenaline surged through her as she studied Parker’s body in situ now. And what she saw made her suddenly question the grim circumstances of his death.

“What if he didn’t fall?” said Theodosia. Her voice was quiet and even, practically drowned out by the mumble of the EMT, firemen, and now somenervous-looking aquarium employees who had edged in to join them.

“What?” said Drayton, leaning in close to her. “What did you say?”

Theodosia turned and gazedwide-eyed at Drayton. There was a flash of anger as well as incredulousness in her eyes. “We need to call the police,” she told him, in a hoarse, barely audible voice. Then she gathered herself together, put a hand back on the gurney, and said, in clear, firm tones, “Please don’t move him one more inch.”

“What?” Drayton said again, still not understanding. “What on earth are you…?”

“I don’t think Parker fell into that tank,” said Theodosia.
“I think he might have been pushed. And then he was somehow…I don’t know…” Her voice wavered for an instant and then she found her strength. “He was held under.”

Now the second fireman spoke up, his voice filled with professional interest, but skeptical at the same time. “How do you figure that?”

“Look at his hands,” said Theodosia. “They’re all cut up.”

The fireman shook his head. “I don’t quite…”

“The wounds,” said Theodosia. “I think they might be
defensive
wounds!”

Detective Burt Tidwell
wasn’t Theodosia’s most favorite person in the whole world, but he was smart and dogged, and he headed the Charleston Police Department’sRobbery-Homicide Division.

Tidwell was also aggressive, demanding, and often petty. He was rough and gruff and had bright, beady eyes and a bulbous body with a stomach that resembled an errant weather balloon. When Tidwell had first arrived in Charleston, fresh off his stint of apprehending the Crow River Killer, the detectives and officers under him had been thrown into a state of shock. He didn’t look like a brilliant investigator. Rather, he resembled aslow-moving buffoon. Big mistake, for they soon learned, sometimes the hard way, that Tidwell was as predatory as they came and that his moods could shift instantaneously from genial cop to angry snapping turtle.

Tidwell had arrived at the Neptune Aquarium, spoken a few curt words to Theodosia and Drayton, then disappeared for a good thirty minutes. Now he was back, talking to Theodosia.

“One of the marine biologists I talked with,” said Tidwell, “surmised that your friend was exploring where he shouldn’t have been.”

“Possibly,” said Theodosia.

Tidwell went on, his jowls sloshing sideways. “Then he slipped and fell into one of the large nets that covered the top of the tank.”

“He was wrapped in it,” Theodosia told him.
Like the poor dolphins that get hopelessly entangled in commercial nets. Only this was Parker.

Tidwell went on calmly. “Stands to reason. When Mr. Scully fell from the catwalk and hit the safety net, it tore loose and plunged with him into the tank.”