Chapter 18
18
Tears clouding her eyes, Sabrina staggered away from the table, heading for the front door. Stumbling in her haste to escape the tea shop, she was tripped up by a chair leg, faltered, and was immediately intercepted by Theodosia, who’d also leaped from her chair.
“Please don’t run off like this,” Theodosia said to Sabrina.
“Let me by,” Sabrina hissed. Her face glowed red, her breathing was shallow, and she looked horribly upset.
But Theodosia continued to block Sabrina’s way and remained insistent. “I really think we need to talk.”
“No, we don’t,” Sabrina protested.
Bettina, Delaine, and Madame Aurora watched the two women closely, wondering who was going to come out on top. Drayton was also following the action, a look of bewilderment on his face.
“I’m sorry, but I’m sure we have some unfinished business here,” Theodosia said. She kept her voice even but insistent.
“This situation is making me very nervous,” Bettina said.
“Like Sabrina has something to hide,” Delaine said in a strident voice.
“I wonder what it could be,” Bettina said.
That was the last straw for Sabrina. Her head dropped, her shoulders began to shake, and she stood there in abject misery.
“Drayton, could you bring us some tea?” Theodosia asked.
Drayton nodded sharply as Theodosia put her arm around Sabrina and said, “Come on, let’s go back to my office and talk about this.”
* * *
Theodosia got Sabrina seated in the big cozy chair she called the tuffet, then knelt down beside her.
“Why are you so upset?” she asked. “What caused you to run off like that when Madame Aurora said you were about to profit?”
Sabrina waved a hand in front of her face. “It’s nothing, really. I’m…I’m mostly embarrassed.”
“You needn’t be. But I do think there’s something you want to tell me. That might have to do with…finances?”
Sabrina took a deep breath, blew it out, and said, “It’s just something our grandfather set up for us a while back.”
Theodosia studied Sabrina. Her stiff posture and tight body language indicated that she was clearly hiding something. But what could it possibly be? Theodosia’s mind quickly stuttered over a few ideas.
Something about Jamie? Or Celeste? No, it has to be about money.
Then, like a piece of a puzzle clicking into place, Theodosia figured out the answer. “Wait. You say your grandfather set it up? You’re talking about a trust fund, aren’t you?”
Sabrina looked like a captured animal, as if she wanted to chew off her foot to escape a trap. “Yes, I suppose that’s what the lawyers call it,” she snapped.
“So you’re in line to inherit some money?”
“Celeste and I both are. Were.”
“When?” Theodosia asked.
“This year. Next month.”
“But Celeste is deceased.” Theodosia flinched at the word. It sounded so final—probably because it was final. “So what happens with Celeste’s share of the inheritance?”
“Really, it’s no concern to you…”
“It goes to you, doesn’t it?” Theodosia said, probing gently. “In the event of Celeste’s death, you receive all the money.”
“I guess,” Sabrina said. It was almost a whisper.
“How much? How much total?”
“Ten.”
“Ten thousand?” Theodosia asked.
Sabrina twisted in her chair uncomfortably. “Ten million.”
“Dear Lord,” Theodosia said. Ten million dollars was an absolute fortune. Invested carefully, she knew that amount could easily double within a decade. Or, even dismissing the investing part, ten million dollars was enough to retire on, and live life in a rather grand fashion.
On the other hand, it was also ten million reasons to kill someone.
“Knock knock.” It was Drayton outside the office with a tray of tea.
“Come in,” Theodosia said.
Drayton bustled in, set the tea tray on Theodosia’s desk, then poured out two steaming cups. “There you go,” he said, leaving as unobtrusively as he’d come in.
Theodosia handed a cup of tea to Sabrina. “Here, sip a little tea. It’ll make you feel better.”
“No, it won’t,” Sabrina said. “Nothing’s going to make me feel better now. You and your stupid psychic just made me look like murder suspect number one!” More tears trickled down her cheek. “You know darn well that Bettina and Delaine will arrive at the conclusion that I killed Celeste. That I’m the killer.”
“They won’t think that at all.”
“Yes, they will. Because that’s exactly what you’re thinking!”
“I’m not,” Theodosia said, even though she had to admit the idea was buzzing around in her brain.
Sabrina shook her head. “It was such a bad idea to talk to a psychic. Stupid me, what was I thinking?” She ran a hand through her hair, mussing it up.
“You were thinking about your sister, whom you loved and cared for very much,” Theodosia said in what she hoped was a commiserating tone.
Sabrina’s lips twisted in a sneer as she said, “Is that what you really think? Now that I’m set to inherit all that money?”
Theodosia didn’t have an easy answer.
“Yeah,” Sabrina spat out. “That’s what I thought.” She stood up, gave Theodosia a withering glance, and left.
* * *
Bettina, Delaine, and Madame Aurora were gone by the time Theodosia emerged from her office carrying the untouched tea tray.
“The tea was not good?” Drayton asked, worry creasing his face.
“It was fine, Sabrina didn’t want any.”
“But you had a heart-to-heart talk with her? Before she went flying out the door?”
“Not exactly,” Theodosia said.
“Then what?”
“You’re not going to believe this.”
“Try me,” Drayton said.
“I need a cup of strong tea first. Then I’ll tell you everything.”
Drayton ducked behind the counter, poured a cup of Plum Deluxe’s blackberry mojito tea, and handed her the teacup. “Now tell me.”
Theodosia took a fortifying sip, then said, “Okay, I’m just going to come right out and say this…ask this. Do you think Sabrina could have murdered her own sister?”
“What!” Drayton cried. “Of course not. I can’t believe that poor distressed woman could ever contemplate murdering her sister. No, absolutely not. Besides, there’s no way Sabrina could have known Celeste would walk into that greenhouse first.”
“Except for the fact that Sabrina knew Celeste was the snoopy one. Always wanting to be first, no matter what.”
“Wait a minute. Are you implying that Sabrina had a motive of some sort? That she would somehow profit from Celeste’s death?” Drayton asked.
“I’m afraid so. Turns out there’s a ten-million-dollar trust fund that was supposed to be split equally between the two sisters. But in the event of one sister’s death, the other sister inherits it all.”
“Holy snack crackers!” Drayton cried. “Sabrina told you this?”
“She just now admitted it.”
“Ten million dollars? That’s a bloody fortune.”
“It surely is,” Theodosia said.
“Wait, do you really think Sabrina would murder her own sister over that kind of inheritance money? Or hire someone to do it for her?” He gave a quick shake of his head as if to toss off that idea. “No, that would be too cold and calculating for words.”
“It would,” Theodosia agreed.
“Gracious,” Drayton said, giving it a second thought and looking nonplussed. “Could she? Would she?”
“I don’t know. I hope not.”
Drayton wasn’t often at a loss for words, but he was floundering now. “Well, now that the handle’s come off the wagon, what do we do?”
“I’ve got to inform the police, for one thing,” Theodosia said. Then she glanced at her watch. “As for right now, I’m afraid we have to switch gears and start getting ready for the cemetery crawl tonight. We need to help Haley assemble tea sandwiches, then pack everything up and transport it. As far as Sabrina and the money goes, we need to set that situation on the back burner.”
“I agree, let it percolate for now, because we don’t have a lot of time to figure it out,” Dayton said. “Gracious, I still have to select and brew my teas, then give Haley an assist.”
“One of us should call Miss Dimple and make sure she’s okay.”
“I already did,” Drayton said. “She said she’s mostly just tired and hopes to be in soon.”
“Do you think…,” Theodosia began, just as the front door rattled in its frame. She turned as Riley poked his head in and said, “Well, hello there,” in a cheery tone of voice.
“Hi,” Theodosia said back to him.
Riley tiptoed over, gave Theodosia a hug and a kiss on the forehead, then looked around the tea room. “I love what you’ve done with the place. Cozy, snug, a little bat cave moderne, but without all the endless knickknacks that professional decorators seem to love.”
Theodosia placed a hand on his chest and gave a playful shove. “You know it’s for Halloween.”
“One of my least favorite holidays,” Riley said as Theodosia reached over to pick up a teapot that had been left on one of the tables. “It’s when all the crazies come spilling out into the real world. It’s hard enough to keep our streets safe without a bunch of devils and vampires running wild. People see a guy in a costume, they think it’s all fun and hilarious. They don’t know that Mr. Devil or Vlad the Vampire might hijack their car at gunpoint.”
“That really happens?” Drayton asked as he placed a large silver tea urn on the counter.
“Believe it,” Riley said, stepping over to talk to him.
“I had no idea things could get that crazy,” Drayton said. He nodded to Riley, then carried his tea urn into the kitchen.
“So how was your fancy luncheon?” Riley asked. He wandered behind the front counter, idly running his hands over the scatter of tea tins Drayton had left sitting there.
“Good. Great. But I have to tell you something,” Theodosia said.
“Oh yeah?”
Theodosia quickly told Riley about the tarot reading and the ten-million-dollar trust fund that Sabrina was set to inherit. Riley listened eagerly to the first part of her story, then his face changed to a solemn expression when she got to the money part.
Once she’d finished, Riley let loose a low whistle and said, “Ten million?”
“What do you think? Does that put Sabrina in the category of suspect?”
“There’s no actual hard evidence that she murdered her sister, but it does elevate her to a person of interest.” Riley slapped a hand down on the counter and said, “This is fairly key information. I need to talk to my boss and also notify Sheriff Ambourn.”
“I was hoping you’d talk to Sabrina first.”
“Why?” he asked.
“As a favor to me. And I guess to Sabrina, too. Before this thing gets too big and takes on a life of its own.”
“I suppose I could do that,” Riley said. “Talk to her and get a few more details. Maybe talk to her lawyer or whoever’s handling the trust.”
“Thank you,” Theodosia said as Riley reached over and flipped the lid off the box of chocolate-covered cherries that was sitting there. He fished one out and was about to pop it in his mouth when Theodosia yelled, “Stop!”
Riley stopped, the chocolate-covered cherry just inches from his mouth. “What?” he asked.
“Miss Dimple ate two of those chocolates this morning and went home sick,” Theodosia said.
“They made her sick?” Riley squinted at his piece of candy. “Naw. Couldn’t have.”
“Give it up, please.” Theodosia grabbed a small trash can and held it up to him. “I’m serious.”
Riley dutifully dropped his candy into the trash. “What’s the real reason?” he asked as he grinned at her. “You worried I’ll spoil my appetite?”
“No, I’m worried you’re going to get sick and die,” Theodosia said.
“You really think there’s something wrong with that candy?”
“It wouldn’t be the first case of sabotage this week,” Theodosia said.
Riley frowned. “In that case, maybe I should…you want me to take the candy with me and have our lab look at it?”
“It would settle my mind if you did that, yes.”
“Our lab rats are going to think I’ve gone absolutely cuckoo. First I bring them a plastic skull, then a pair of boots, now a box of chocolates. They’ll think I’m on some weird scavenger hunt.”
“About that skull,” Theodosia said, glad he’d reminded her. “Did they find any prints on it?”
“Funny you should ask,” Riley said. “My guys said it looked like it’d been wiped clean.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Theodosia said. Then, “Please, please talk to Sabrina.”
“I will do that.”
* * *
Five minutes after Riley had left and Theodosia had locked the front door, there was a scritch-scratching at the window.
Like the raven in Poe’s poem? Theodosia wondered. Then shook her head to dismiss that weird thought.
But the scratching continued, so Theodosia walked to the front of the shop, peered out the window, and found Ken Lotter smiling in at her.
Oh dear.
Unlocking the door, she opened it wide and said, “Lotter? What do you want? We’re closed, you know.” Ken Lotter was the slick-looking, gelled-haired, up-and-coming features reporter for K-BAM TV. He was youngish, maybe mid-thirties, with big teeth and an even bigger smile.
“What do I want?” Lotter said. “I think you know what I want. I want a little inside information, thank you very much.”
“You and everyone else.”
“I know you catered that flower farm wedding and I know all about your heroics. I also know you were poking around that collapsed greenhouse.”
“So what?”
“So I think you found something. Or are in the process of trying to figure something out.”
Theodosia sighed. “I think we’d all like to know what happened that day.”
Lotter gave her a dazzling smile. “Everyone already knows that a criminal act took place. The police are probably calling it murder by now. But here’s the thing. You, you adorable little auburn-haired beauty, have a knack for solving crimes. This I know.”
“Mr. Lotter, right now I have a knack for making tea sandwiches for tonight’s cemetery crawl. So if you don’t mind…” Theodosia began to close the door.
“All right,” Lotter said. “Have it your way, but if you see me shadowing you, don’t be surprised.”
This time Theodosia closed the door all the way. And made sure it was locked.
Twenty seconds later—maybe less than that, maybe ten seconds later—there was an insistent knock at the door.
“What!” Theodosia shouted through the door.
“Open up, it’s me!”
“Who’s ‘me’?”
“Bill Glass.”
Theodosia opened the door and peered out at the scruffy-looking publisher. “What do you want?”
“What was that cock of the walk Lotter doing here?” Glass asked, looking thoroughly incensed. “Here I thought I was your one and only when it came to talking to reporters.”
“There is no one and only. There is no news. I have nothing to tell you,” Theodosia said.
“But you’re still looking into that bridesmaid’s death,” Glass said, shaking a finger at her. “Which the police are now calling a murder.”
“Glass,” Theodosia said, “if I knew something, I’d tell you. Just to get you off my case.”
Glass clapped a hand to his heart and said, “You would? Really? That’s more than I could ever hope for.”
“You are so full of it, Glass.” This time Theodosia shut the door hard, locked it, and vowed not to open it again.