Agony of the Leaves: Tea Shop Mystery #13 (5 page)

“And,” Delaine continued, “you did agree your team would help raise funds for Tuesday’s Child.”

“Yes, but I…” Theodosia stammered. In lieu of what had just happened last night, how could she possibly go tripping off on a scavenger hunt? It was almost unthinkable.

But Delaine seemed to read her thoughts. “In fact, I’m bringing the executive director of Tuesday’s Child here for lunch tomorrow. For the sole purpose of meeting you!”

Theodosia shook her head, tiredly. “I don’t know…” Her brain was still numb from Parker’s untimely death, she had two major tea parties to stage, the Charleston Coffee & Tea Expo kicked off this week, and now Delaine was haranguing her about a scavenger hunt.

Delaine’s expression of concern suddenly switched to one of abject horror. “You
have
to participate, Theo! I’m
counting
on you! The at-risk
children
who benefit from Tuesday’s Child are counting on you!”

Oh dear.
“I suppose when you put it that way…” said Theodosia.

“Honestly, Theodosia!” said Delaine, jumping to her feet. “You’ve got to pull yourself out of this…this morass. And just get moving!”

Theodosia did get
moving then, scurrying about the Indigo Tea Shop, placing bone china cups and saucers just so, arranging tiny silver butter knives, setting out glass bowls filled with sugar cubes, polishing silver sugar tongs.

“Splendid,” said Drayton, as he fussed right alongside her.

Cozy and charming, the Indigo Tea Shop featured walls festooned with antique engravings depicting rice plantations and various views of the Charleston harbor, as well as Theodosia’s handmade grapevine wreaths decorated with miniature teacups. Antique plates were propped on several wooden shelves along with collectiblecup-and-saucer sets. A highboy held tins of tea, jars of Dubose Bees Honey, and Theodosia’s selection of T-Bath products.

When Theodosia and Drayton finally arranged chairs, lit candles, and set three different pots of tea to brewing, they stood together and gazed about the little shop. It sparkled and shone to perfection while steamy notes of Darjeeling, Pouchong, and orange spice hung in the air.

“You don’t think we’re being too…futsy, do you?” Theodosia asked.

Drayton reared back. “Nonsense, this is perfection! Every aspect of composing a tea shop experience is akin to creating a perfectstill-life painting. We do a splendid job and you know it. All our customers tell us so.”

“That they do,” Theodosia admitted.

“So why would you question our commitment to putting on an exquisite tea service?” asked Drayton, his feathers slightly ruffled.

“I’m just…having a bad morning, I guess,” said Theodosia.

“Poor dear,” said Drayton. “I do feel so bad for you.”

“I’ll be okay,” said Theodosia. Draping a long black Parisian waiter’s apron around her neck, she tied it from back to front, resolving to be positive. If only for their customers.

“Say now,” said Haley, stepping out from the back. “You feel up to running through today’s menu?”

Theodosia nodded. She knew she had to pull herself out of her blue funk and carry on. “Of course. What have you got for us?”

Haley flipped open a small spiral notebook and squinted at herleft-slanted handwriting. “We’ll be serving tomato basil soup with crostini spread with Brie cheese and fig jam. Chicken salad tea sandwiches on homemade cinnamon bread. And a citrus salad with oranges, mangoes, and walnuts.”

“Quite an eclectic selection,” said Drayton. “Makes me think today’s the day to pull out all the stops and serve my new butter truffle tea.”

Haley wrinkled her nose at him. “Run that by me again, mister. Butter truffle?”

“It’s one of Drayton’s new house blends,” Theodosia told her.

“Black tea,” said Drayton, half closing his eyes, the better
to rhapsodize, “with bits of butter cookie, pistachio, almond, and orange.”

“Sounds more like
dessert
,” said Haley. “I mean, I’m sure it’s tasty and all that, but it sure is different from your usual offerings.”

Drayton peered over hishalf-glasses at Haley. “I like to keep you on your toes.”

“You do, Drayton,” said Haley, “in fact, sometimes you
step
on them.”

“And for dessert?” Theodosia asked, trying to keep the discussion moving forward.

“Oh,” said Haley, pulling herself back to the business at hand. “We’ve got pumpkin bread parfait, brownie bites, and I’ve got butter cake baking in the oven right now.”

Tilting his head back, Drayton gave a tiny genteel sniff. “Ah, you do indeed.”

Five minutes later, a clutch of customers came pouring in and, just like that, a busy Monday kicked off. Haley retreated to her fiefdom in the kitchen while Theodosia and Drayton did theirwhirling-twirling tea shop ballet of pouring tea, presenting plates of scones and bowls of jam, and whooshing away dirty dishes.

“We just received a call from the Broad Street Garden Club,” Drayton told Theodosia, as he hung up the phone at the front counter. “The ladies made reservations for a tea luncheon on Thursday. They specifically asked for four courses, if we can manage it.” He paused. “Usually that group is somewhathoity-toity and opt for lobster thermidor at the Lady Goodwood Inn, so I’m a little surprised they chose us.”

Theodosia paused at the front counter, ablue-and-white Chinese teapot in one hand, a plate of scones in the other. “After last night,” she told Drayton, “I don’t think anything can surprise me.”

Which was exactly when the door flew open and a mournful
face seemed to sway in front of Theodosia. A young woman stared directly at her and said, in a whispering voice, “Miss Browning? I need to talk to you. I’m…I mean I
was
…Parker’s girlfriend.”

It was a
stunning conclusion to a rather strange morning, and Theodosia, completely taken aback, gasped sharply and simply stared. Then, upon seeing the sad, stricken expression on the girl’s face, hastily gathered her wits about her and said, “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

That seemed to break the initial tension between them. The girl touched an index finger to her chest and said, “Shelby McCawley. Nice to finally meet you.”

Theodosia nodded. “Theodosia Browning. But then, you knew that, didn’t you?”

Shelby bobbed her head. “Could we…is there someplace we can talk privately?”

Theodosia led Shelby through theceladon-green velvet curtain into the back of the tea shop. Past the postagestamp–sized kitchen and into her cluttered, crowded office where stacks of red hats, boxes of teapots, and tea catalogs threatened to overrun the place.

“Please,” said Theodosia. “Sit down.” She gestured toward
the oversized brocade chair that faced her desk. The one they’d dubbed “the tuffet.”

Shelby sat down while Theodosia did a quick hop across a stack of wild grapevine wreaths and slid behind her desk. She moved a stack of tea catalogs, which were stacked too high and threatening to topple over, out of her way. “Now…what did you… ?” She paused, regrouped, and said, “How can I help you?” Then Theodosia decided her words still sounded a little brusque, so she said again, “I’m so sorry about Parker.”

Shelby bobbed her head as tears sprang to her eyes. “It’s awful. Shocking.” She dropped her head forward and fine, straightlight-brown hair fell like a curtain over her face. Then she pulled it together and smiled at Theodosia. Shelby was young, twenty-six, maybetwenty-seven, with dazzling dark eyes and a pale oval face. She wasmodel-thin and dressed in skinny jeans with awell-cut white shirt tied at her waist.

“So you two were, um, going together…dating?” said Theodosia.

“For the past two months,” said Shelby. She pulled a hanky from her woven leather bag and wiped at her tears. “I was really crazy about him. We were pretty crazy about each other.” She paused, sniffled, and said, “But he told me about you.”

Theodosia flapped a hand, as if to dismiss her past relationship with Parker.

“He really thought the world of you,” said Shelby.

“Oh, I don’t know about that…”

“No,” said Shelby, “Parker was always very complimentary about you. In fact, that’s one of the things I admired about him. Some guys, they’ll grab any opportunity to slam their old girlfriends. Parker never did that.”

“He wasn’t like that,” Theodosia murmured, almost to herself.

“No, he wasn’t,” said Shelby. “And he told me something else about you.”

“What was that?” asked Theodosia.

“He said you were smart. And not justsmart-smart, but clever, too.”

“Kind of him,” said Theodosia. She was beginning to get a funny vibe in the pit of her stomach. Probably, Shelby hadn’t come here for a purely social call. And she wasn’t here just to commiserate, either.

It took only a few moments for Shelby to drop her bombshell.

“I was hoping you could sort of…investigate,” said Shelby. She shook her head sadly. “This whole drowning thing, I’m having a hard time buying it.”

You, too?
Theodosia thought.

But Theodosia’s next words pretty muchpooh-poohed Shelby’s request. “I’m sorry, but you’re talking to the wrong person. You should be trying to persuade Detective Tidwell to delve into this more thoroughly. To develop some sort of case.”

“I did try,” said Shelby.

“Okay,” said Theodosia, playing it cool.

“And he believes it was an accident.”

“Which it probably was,” said Theodosia. It pretty much killed her to say that. Especially since she didn’t believe it.

Shelby stared across the desk, her limpid brown eyes swimming with tears. “But you don’t really believe that, do you?”

Theodosia’s reply was practically a whisper. “No.”

“Then could you sort of nose around? I know you’ve done investigations before. Parker told me all about it.”

Still Theodosia hedged. “I don’t know. Detective Tidwell would probably get awfully upset.” Then again, when
wasn’t
he upset?

Shelby gave a little shudder. “Tidwell. That man is definitely not a nice person. In fact, I had the dubious pleasure of meeting him last night.”

Theodosia peered at Shelby with renewed interest. “You were there last night? At the Neptune Aquarium?”

Shelby bobbed her head. “Yes, but only for about thirty minutes. I helped Parker set up the tapas table and then I…I left.”

“You went home?” asked Theodosia.

“That’s right.”

“Then how did you meet Detective Tidwell?”

Shelby wrapped her arms around herself and hunched forward. “He came to my house. With some other police officers. To deliver the bad news.”

“Kind of him.”

“Not really. He was basically deadpan about the whole thing.” Shelby let loose another quick shudder. “
Dead.
Ooh. What a terrible choice of words.”

Theodosia had a decision to make. She could put a commiserating arm around Shelby’s shoulders, lead her to the front door, and bid the young womangood-bye. Or she could ask a few questions. Maybe probe a little deeper into what Parker had been involved in lately.

The choice was easy.

“Shelby, if I did explore a few angles, would you be able to tell me what had been going on in Parker’s life?”

“I think so. I could try.”

“Were there problems with his restaurant? With Solstice?”

Shelby nodded. “Some. Why?” She brightened. “Oh, you’re looking for clues? For suspects?”

Theodosia let that question slide by her. “Was Parker involved in any disagreements that you know of? Personal or legal?”

“Mmm…maybe.”

“I’m talking about vendors, business partners, or even customers,” said Theodosia.

Shelby considered this. “I know for a fact that Parker was upset with a couple of people.”

“Can you tell me who?”

“Joe Beaudry, for one,” said Shelby.

“The lawyer,” said Theodosia. She knew Joe Beaudry purely through his obnoxious TV commercials: cheesythirty-second messages that promised Beaudry would handle your divorce, debts, or DUI. “What about Beaudry?” Theodosia asked.

“It had to do with financing,” said Shelby. “Parker needed additional funding and Beaudry kind of led him on. I mean, Beaudry was coming into Solstice practically every night, rhapsodizing about their hot new partnership while he guzzledtwo-hundred-dollar bottles of Cristal or Château Latour. Then, after all the meetings and free dinners, Beaudry finally dropped the hammer and told Parker he wouldn’t be able to finance his new restaurant after all.”

“What new restaurant was that?”

“Parker wanted to open a seafood restaurant called Carolina Jack’s. He’d drawn up plans for a raw bar as well as fine dining. He also hired a restaurant planner and had scouted a location.”

“Where was that?” asked Theodosia.

“Fairly close to here,” said Shelby. “The former Portofino’s Pizza over on East Bay Street.”

Theodosia knew the location. It would have made a fine choice, close to tourist areas, in a fun section of town. “Was there anyone else Parker might have been upset with? Or who was upset with him?”

Shelby put a hand to her forehead, as if trying to recollect somelong-forgotten snippet of information. “There was another restaurant owner.”

Theodosia felt another little twinge deep down in her gut.
“Do you know who it was? Someone local or…perhaps one who was located in Savannah?”