Devonshire Scream (23 page)

“Probably because she's such a successful fund-raiser,” Theodosia said. “I think Delaine single-handedly raised something like a million dollars just to get Madison's House Small Animal Rescue built.”

Grace let loose a low whistle. “Very impressive. I take it Delaine's a confirmed dog lover?”

Theodosia shook her head. “Delaine thinks all critters are wonderful, but she's seriously into cats. She thinks cats are smarter and way more esoteric.”

“Cats
are
great,” Grace laughed. “Even Sultan and Satin love cats.”

“Sure they do,” Theodosia said in a tone that implied
No, they don't
; the two women laughing together at her little joke.

“You know what?” Grace said. “We should all get together for a spa day sometime. Really do the works—nails, hair, massages, sea scrubs, you name it.”

“That sounds like fun.”

“We could invite Sabrina Andros along, too.” When Theodosia fixed Grace with a quizzical look, she explained. “I also bumped into Sabrina this morning while I was getting my mani-pedi. I understand she's a regular there.” Grace dropped her voice. “Please don't ever tell Sabrina I said this, but I think she was getting her roots done.”

“She stopped by for tea a couple of days ago,” Theodosia said. “Along with her husband, Luke.”

“The yacht guy,” Grace said. “I hear he's doing a gangbuster business. Sabrina mentioned that he received a call from some big muckety-muck bank president in Rio de Janeiro who's hot to buy a custom yacht. So Luke is cruising one of his yachts down there tomorrow night.”

“Is Sabrina going along?” Theodosia asked.

Grace waved at someone sitting across the patio. “I don't know. Maybe.” She waved again. “Probably.” Then she pulled away. “Excuse me, my assistant is looking positively frantic. He probably has six calls holding and a couple of last-minute invitations.” And she was gone. Poof.

Theodosia pondered this new information about Sabrina and Luke Andros. Tomorrow night, for all intents and purposes, they would be leaving the country. Sailing into international waters.

Snapping her head around, Theodosia quickly located Drayton. He was standing near the makeshift bar, talking to Teddy Vickers, the man who managed the Featherbed House just down the block. Well, she would just have to interrupt him.

“Theo,” Drayton began when he saw her. “Teddy was just telling me that . . .”

“I'm sorry,” Theodosia said to Drayton. “But we have to go. Like . . . now.”

•   •   •

“What was so
all-fired important that we had to leave poor Teddy standing there like that?” Drayton asked as Theodosia propelled him across the patio and into the Rosewalk Inn. She glanced around hurriedly, looking for a private spot to talk, and then yanked him into a side parlor. Painted a soft robin's-egg blue and decorated with a rag rug, the room featured some loosely rendered watercolor paintings as well as a pale-blue love seat with needlepoint cushions.

“Sabrina and Luke Andros are sailing to South America tomorrow night,” Theodosia told him a little breathlessly.

“What?” Drayton's reaction was one of stunned surprise. He grabbed one of the cushions and gave it a squeeze.

Theodosia slowly related everything Grace had revealed to her.

“Are they leaving before or after the Rare Antiquities Show?” Drayton asked.

Theodosia shook her head. “I have no idea, but that's a very good question.”

Drayton looked thoughtful. “Well, the timing matters.”

“It certainly does. But just how are we supposed to find out their exact departure time? I don't expect it's noted in any maritime log.”

“Maybe,” Drayton said, looking thoughtful. “Maybe we should just go and ask them? Not flat out, but in a kind of casual way?”

“Huh,” Theodosia said. “Why didn't I think of that?”

Drayton beetled his brows together. “Because I did.”

“So maybe Sabrina and Luke are over at the yacht club right now,” Theodosia said, warming to the idea even more.
“Getting ready to . . .” She broke off her words. “You know what, Drayton? Asking them point-blank is kind of in-your-face, but it's also a smart way to put them on alert.”

“Exactly,” Drayton said. “We let Sabrina and Luke know that
we
know they're planning to leave town.”

Theodosia nodded. “If they're guilty, they'll figure we're keeping an eye on them.”

•   •   •

Theodosia had left
her Jeep parked nearby, so it was a simple matter of hopping in and driving over to the Charleston Yacht Club.

“Not so much going on over here,” Drayton observed as they drove along.

“I don't know,” Theodosia said. “The yachts are all supposed to be lit up.”

“Well, I don't see . . .” Drayton did a sudden double take as they spun around a corner and the harbor came into view. “Oh my, you're right. The boats are all lit up.” He smiled, a smile so heartfelt and genuine that Theodosia knew he was utterly charmed. “Look at them, just gliding back and forth across Charleston Harbor. Like pirate ships sailing off to Neverland.”

About three dozen sailboats had been lit, stem to stern, with multiple strings of white lights. And, just as Drayton had said, they appeared to glide gracefully across the surface of the gilded moonlit water.

“Now all we have to do is find Sabrina and Luke Andros,” Theodosia said, turning into the parking lot at the Charleston Yacht Club.

But that was going to be a piece of cake. Because the very last pier, where two enormous yachts tugged at their moorings, was lit up like a Christmas tree. And so were the yachts.

“Two yachts,” Theodosia said. “He's brought another one in.”

“It would appear there's a party going on,” Drayton said as music and the hum of many voices floated toward them. “And judging from all the people on deck, it looks like Gold Coast Yachts is having a fairly large shindig. Do you think it's a going-away party? Or should I say anchors aweigh?”

“This will make it even easier for us,” Theodosia said. “It means we can waltz in, hop on a boat, mingle with the crowd, and ask our innocent little question.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

But the best-laid plans often went awry. Or at least were met with serious obstacles. Because halfway down the pier, Theodosia and Drayton were stopped in their tracks by a very burly man in an ill-fitting navy-blue blazer.

“Sorry,” the man told them as he crossed his arms and blocked their way. “But this is a private party.”

Theodosia offered him a winning smile. “We know. We're good friends of Sabrina and Luke.”

The security man touched a hand to the velvet rope that stretched across the pier, blocking their passage. “In that case, you folks probably have an invitation?”

“Not exactly,” Theodosia said.

“Are your names on the guest list?”

“We just thought we'd drop in and say a quick hello,” Theodosia said.

“Or a quick good-bye,” Drayton added with a hopeful note. “Since we know that Sabrina and Luke are leaving tomorrow.”

“For South America,” Theodosia said.

The behemoth simply shook his head. “Sorry,” he growled. “If you're not on the list, I can't let you by.”

“Really?” Theodosia said in a slightly wheedling tone.

“I don't make the rules,” the security guard said.

“Sheesh,” Theodosia said. They turned and headed slowly
back down the dock. “I'm disappointed. And what's with that velvet-rope crap?”

“Pretentious,” Drayton said. “Just like the old Studio 54.”

Theodosia turned to look at him sharply. “What do you know about that place?”

Drayton gave a shrug. “I wasn't always so buttoned-up. And I
did
reside in New York for a time.”

Theodosia grinned. “Well . . .
Drayton
.”

Theodosia wasn't exactly
in the mood to try on dresses. But Delaine had been so insistent about it the other day that her defenses had pretty much crumbled. So here she was, on a cool, slightly overcast Saturday morning, standing outside Cotton Duck, hoping like crazy that Delaine wasn't inside to harangue her and make the process even more painful.

“Hello,” Theodosia called out as she entered the boutique. “Anybody here?”

“I'll be right with you,” a voice called back.

Good
, Theodosia thought as she recognized the voice. Janine, Delaine's overworked, overstressed assistant, was here. But it would appear that Delaine wasn't. So, blessed be, there'd be no nagging, rolling of eyes, or overwrought hysterics.

Theodosia couldn't help smiling as she gazed around the sparking jewel box of a shop and slowly fell under its spell. Racks of long gowns hung next to circular racks jammed
with silk tops and suede slacks. Peekaboo camisoles and demi bras were nestled in satin boxes that sat on antique highboys. Strands of opera pearls mingled with gold necklaces, turquoise and coral pendants, and clover necklaces made of gold and mother-of-pearl. Glass shelves displayed reptile and supple leather handbags. Even though Theodosia wasn't a dyed-in-the-wool fashionista, she found it all wonderfully enticing.

“Janine?” Theodosia called out as she perused a rack of leather bomber jackets. “It's me, Theodosia.” She reached out and touched one. It was soft as butter. “I think Delaine pulled some dresses for me to try on?”

Thirty seconds later, Janine came huffing toward her.

“Yes, yes,” Janine said. She was red faced and always seemed to be in a perpetual state of distress. “Delaine phoned me first thing this morning and gave strict instructions to put the dresses in a fitting room for you.”

“Great,” Theodosia said, not really meaning it.

“Three cocktail dresses, right?”

Theodosia shrugged. “I guess.”

Janine smiled warmly at her. “Must be nice to get all dressed up and go to fancy parties.” Janine was short, slightly stooped, and had wavy brown hair and large brown eyes. She was wearing a skirt that covered her knees and her blouse was untucked.

Theodosia suddenly felt horribly ungrateful.

“Some of those events
are
nice,” she told Janine, then put an arm around the woman's shoulders. “In fact, you should come along sometime.”

Janine brightened as if the sun had suddenly burst out from behind the clouds. “Really?”

“Yes, really. In fact, if you'd like to come to the opening at the Heritage Society tonight, I can certainly get your name on the list.” Theodosia knew that Drayton wouldn't mind one bit.

“I can't make it tonight,” Janine said. “But maybe some other time?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Theodosia was starting to feel more and more upbeat by the minute. Being kind to people, having a charitable attitude, was good for the body and the soul. “Now, where are those dresses you have for me?”

Janine pushed back a plum-colored velvet drapery and led the way into a fitting room. “Hanging up right here.” She reached out and smoothed one of the dresses. “And I have to tell you, Delaine was very insistent that all the dresses be short and black.”

“Cocktaily,” Theodosia said.

“That's right.”

“Okay, I'll give them a try.”

Janine pulled the privacy curtain across and said, “Once you're changed, Theodosia, be sure to come out and give us a fashion show.”

But the first dress Theodosia tried on was so wrong. A clingy jersey number that was too short, too tight, and had a flouncy skirt that looked like it would blow up and reveal everything with just a paltry puff of wind.

No way.

The second dress wasn't terrible, but it wasn't great, either. A one-shouldered gown with a wrap-around shrug that reminded Theodosia of something a Sicilian widow might wear.

Two strikes against me so far.

The third dress didn't look like much on the hanger, but when Theodosia put it on, the black silk slithered over her beautifully. It flattered her midsection and hips, while the modified sweetheart neckline made her neck and shoulders look positively swanlike.

Okaaay. This is more like it.

Theodosia slipped into a pair of strappy black high heels that Janine had put in the fitting room and walked out into
the shop. She knew the real proving ground would be the three-way mirror.

“Oh, Theodosia,” Janine exclaimed when she saw her. “That dress fits you perfectly.”

Theodosia tiptoed up to the three-way mirror and peered into it. And smiled at her reflection. The sheath dress did look pretty good on her. Very sophisticated.

“You look like you should be posing in front of a stone fireplace in some ginormous mansion, getting your picture taken for the society section of
Charleston Trends
magazine,” Janine said.

“Oh no,” Theodosia murmured.

“Oh yes.” Janine crept forward and adjusted the neckline slightly. “If this dress is your first choice, and I'm hoping it is, I bet Delaine is going to be jealous of how great you look.”

“Delaine? Jealous?” Theodosia said.
Hah!

But Janine was dead serious. “You have no idea how head-over-heels crazy in love Delaine is with that new boyfriend of hers,” she said, whispering, as if the walls had ears. “Every day Delaine practically drives herself crazy trying to look and dress her best. She's been spending a fortune on facials and manicures. I think she's so paranoid about looking young and cute that she's even had Botox.”

“She doesn't need that stuff. Delaine always looks great.”

“No, this is different,” Janine said. “Delaine is constantly pushing herself to up her game. She claims that's what you have to do when you're madly in love. To, you know, keep the attraction going.”

“Maybe she really is madly in love, then,” Theodosia said. She'd figured this guy was just another guy in a long string of guys.
So maybe I should take a little time to get to know her boyfriend? That is, if he really is her one true love.

“Have you met him?” Janine asked.

“Just briefly. For all of about two seconds.”

“I've met Mr. Gilles,” Janine said, “and I'd have to say
he's very handsome.” She gave an appreciative shiver. “Mysterious, too.”

Theodosia turned toward her. “Mysterious? In what way?”

“I suppose because he's European, with such a lovely accent and fine manners.”

“But he's leaving to go back home in a week or so,” Theodosia said. “He's going back to France.”

Janine nodded sadly. “I know, but Delaine is hoping and praying she can convince him to stay here forever.”

“You mean she wants to
marry
him?”

“I think she does, yes.”

“For her sake then, I hope he stays.”

Janine nodded briskly and said, “So . . . shall I wrap your dress or do you want to wear it out? Or is there something else you want to try on?”

Theodosia twirled back to face her image in the mirror. “I guess I have to make a decision, don't I? Well, I love this sleek look . . . and I've got some black heels that should go perfectly.” She touched a hand to the neckline. “But is it just the teensiest bit plain on top?”

“Maybe it could use a necklace or a colorful pin?” Janine said.

“You think?”

“A pin would definitely glam it up,” Janine said. “Especially if you have one with tons of sparkle.”

Theodosia eyed her reflection in the mirror again. As far as finding a stunning piece of jewelry went, she was pretty sure she knew who to ask.

•   •   •

When Theodosia rushed
into Heart's Desire, Brooke was standing in the middle of the shop directing a bevy of carpenters and rug guys. A ladder was set up at one end of the shop and, way at the tippy-top of it, a man was installing a row of pinpoint spotlights.

“Theodosia,” Brooke said when she spotted her. “Tell me some good news.”

“Professor Shepley is out of the running,” Theodosia said. “I spoke with the FBI guys last night and they claim they've cleared him completely.”

Brooke cocked her head to one side, considering this. “I guess I never believed the professor was any kind of criminal mastermind. From what you told me, he was an odd duck, yes, but probably not a jewel thief.” She sighed. “So it's back to square one?”

“No, we left square one days ago. Now we're playing an advanced game of cat and mouse.”

That brought a faint smile to Brooke's face. “You being the cat?”

“Hopefully.”

“Theodosia, you are a dear soul. And I know I asked for your help . . . well, I actually
begged
for your help. But the more I hear about international jewel thieves, the more I worry that you might be in danger. That you might put yourself out there a little too far.”

“That's exactly what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Brooke looked puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“What if I wore an exotic piece of jewelry to the Heritage Society show tonight?”

“Well, sure,” Brooke said. “It's no problem if you want to borrow something. I've still got a few choice pieces stashed in my safe.”

Theodosia decided she should probably clarify her request. “I mean I want to wear a spectacular piece of jewelry as bait.”

“Bait?” Now comprehension dawned on Brooke's face. “Oh no, honey, there's no way I could let you do that. You flash some major jewels around and it really could put you in danger. I mean, what if this guy or gang who robbed me crashes the party? Or the same person who robbed that woman at the
opera? If they see that you're wearing a particularly tasty piece of jewelry, they might decide to go after you!” She shook her head. “No, it's simply too dangerous.”

“But don't you see, that's exactly what I want to happen. I want this guy or gang or whatever they are, to be enticed and then . . .”

Brooke lifted an eyebrow. “Rob you? Hurt you?”

“I was thinking more like they'd get swarmed by the police and arrested.”

“I see the method to your madness. But still . . .”

“Listen, this might be our only chance of catching these guys,” Theodosia said. “They might be moving on soon. To better pickings in another city. Please, I really want to do this.”

“Yes, I'm getting the idea,” Brooke said. “I see the determination in your eyes.”

“Then let me do it, for goodness' sake.” Theodosia drew a deep breath. “For Kaitlin's sake.”

“Theodosia . . .”

“Timothy Neville has assured us there'll be plenty of security present.”

“Sure there will,” Brooke said. “Did they hire armed guards from Fort Knox? Or, better yet, is SEAL Team Six standing by?”

When Theodosia didn't reply, when she continued with her slightly imploring look, Brooke took her hand and squeezed it. “Okay, Theo. You win. This is against my better judgment, but we'll find something fabulous for you to flash around tonight. But I want you to swear on a stack of Bibles that you'll be super careful. That you'll promise not to take any unnecessary risks.”

“I promise,” Theodosia said, even though she figured she might be taking a huge risk. But she was tired of chasing after shadows and anxious to make something happen. Exactly what, she figured she'd have to wait and find out.

•   •   •

When Theodosia finally
swung into the Indigo Tea Shop it was almost eleven o'clock.

“There you are,” Drayton said. He looked up from behind the counter, where he was packaging up two dozen chocolate chip scones in indigo-blue boxes for a take-out order. “We haven't been terribly busy with morning tea service . . . we're about half-full as you can see. But the phone has been ringing off the hook for take-out orders. It seems like every coffee shop, B and B, and anxious hostess in a ten-block radius wants to get their paws on a dozen of our scones. Like immediately. So Haley had to ramp up and bake another four dozen.”

“Was that a problem?” Theodosia asked.

“No. Haley pretty much took it in stride. You know what a little trouper she is. And the kitchen's all toasty warm and smells heavenly. Like somebody blended sugar, chocolate, and cinnamon to concoct some kind of delicious foodie perfume.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Theodosia said. “But I think I'll go check on Haley and see how she's doing.”

•   •   •

“You want to
hand me that aluminum mixing bowl?” Haley asked abruptly as Theodosia stepped into the kitchen. As Drayton had predicted, it was toasty warm and smelled heavenly. If chocolate was your idea of heaven.

Theodosia glanced sideways. “The big one on the top shelf?”