Chapter 24
24
It was dark inside the building, with just a few lights glowing down the long corridor. Which meant Theodosia was unable to see exactly where the three men had disappeared to.
Maybe to the men’s room? Or…where else could they be?
She tiptoed down the hallway, past an exhibit featuring black-and-white photos of an old low-country rice plantation, then stopped. Some twenty feet on, a narrow shaft of light spilled from one of the smaller meeting rooms.
Is that where Slide is? And the other two men?
Slowly, carefully, Theodosia worked her way down the corridor until she was standing outside the Palmetto Room. She put her ear to the crack of the door and tried to listen in. No luck. She could hear low murmurs but not a darn bit of actual conversation.
While she was trying to figure out what to do—call the police? Notify Timothy Neville?—the door suddenly opened and one of the men strolled out. He glanced at her with very little curiosity, slicked back his hair with both hands, then headed back out to the patio.
Great. But what about the other guy?
Ever so carefully, Theodosia grasped the brass doorknob and turned it slowly. Once she had the door open a good five inches, she tried to calm her breathing and listen in. And heard…
An argument.
Slide was haranguing the man, threatening him.
“Do you know what happened to the last lowlife who tried to rip me off?” Slide snarled.
“Take it easy, okay? I told you I’d get the money. I’m good for it!” the man said.
“You better, because the last guy who stiffed me ended up with cracked ribs and a broken nose to match,” Slide said.
Theodosia couldn’t help but wonder if Slide was referring to Jamie. But no, Jamie hadn’t cracked any ribs, had he?
There was a scuffle and a shuffle of footsteps from inside the room, the two men obviously going at it. But it ended as fast as it had started, and the door where Theodosia was standing began to slowly creak open. Quick as a flash, Theodosia jumped back. She glanced around frantically and dove behind a nearby potted plant. Thank goodness it was a bird-of-paradise with a huge array of foliage, because when the two men cruised past her, they didn’t have a clue that she’d been snooping on them.
Rushing back outside, Theodosia took her chair on the patio and tried to calm her beating heart. The dancers were spinning wildly, and the program looked as if it was coming to a conclusion.
Drayton leaned toward her and whispered, “Where were you? What were you doing?”
“I was following Slide,” she whispered back.
“Bad idea.”
“No, I almost caught him in the act.”
Drayton’s head jerked back. “Of dealing drugs?”
“I think so.”
“Lord have mercy,” Drayton said. “You realize you missed the most exciting portion of the dance program? It’s about to…” He glanced up at the stage. “Well, looks like this is the conclusion.”
The music rose to a loud crescendo as dancers executed jaw-dropping leaps and fiery spins, then the dancers all bent low and formed a circle. Around and around they whirled as applause started up, then they all sprang into the air in one final, dazzling leap. Seconds later, the show was over and the dancers all stood together, facing the audience, hands joined as they took a collective bow. The audience was on its feet, applauding heartily as patio lights flashed on.
“We’ve got to do something,” Theodosia said.
“You mean like call the police?” Drayton said. “Difficult to get them to make an arrest when there’s little or no proof.” They sat there, debating what to do, as all around them the audience filed back inside the Heritage Society.
Then Theodosia said, “When I said do something , I was thinking about something a bit more clandestine.”
Drayton stared at her, then said, “No. Not again. Not ever. You know how terrified I am when you pull me into one of your unauthorized explorations.”
“You mean when I do a hot prowl?”
“You make it sound like an innocent bit of fun, like telling ghost stories around a campfire, when it’s actually breaking and entering. I know we’ve done this before, but this time I want no part of it.”
“Even if it means solving a crime? Figuring out who murdered Celeste? Or getting a dangerous drug dealer off the street?” Theodosia asked.
“Now you’re rationalizing.”
“And you’re putting your head in the sand when we could be doing something important.”
“How do you know Slide’s not on his way home right now?”
“Because he was all jacked up. Come on, he’s a young guy brimming with ego and swagger. He’s going to hit a few clubs, do some shots, probably make a few sales.”
“You don’t even know where Slide lives,” Drayton said.
“Actually, I do.” Theodosia pulled out her phone and read off the address.
“How do you know this?”
Theodosia shrugged. “Internet.”
“What’s the address again?”
“Six seven two Cannon Street.”
“That sounds familiar,” Drayton said. “In fact, we know someone who lives there.”
“We do?”
“Remember when we interviewed that woman from the Westside Theater? The one with the faux-British stage name?”
“Lucinda Harrington, who’s really Lucy Harris? That’s right. She lives in that rehabbed apartment building.”
“The Vanderhorst Square Apartments,” Drayton said.
“Let’s call Lucy and ask her if she’ll let us through the security door.”
“That’s fairly presumptuous,” Drayton said. “Do you even have her number?”
“Let me check my phone. Um…yes, I still do. In fact, I’m going to call her right now.”
Theodosia punched in the number and waited. Lucy Harris’s phone rang six, seven, eight times, then clicked over to voicemail.
“Rats,” Theodosia said as she hung up. “She’s not answering.”
“Good. It was a bad idea anyway.”
Theodosia slid her phone back into her purse. “Maybe by the time we get there, she’ll be home.”
Drayton frowned. “And if she’s not?”
Theodosia grabbed Drayton’s arm and pulled him to his feet. “Then we’ll come up with a different idea.”
* * *
They drove to Slide’s apartment, Theodosia bubbling with excitement and nervous energy, Drayton feeling a sense of dread.
“This is so not a good idea,” Drayton said.
“Come on, this is a great idea,” Theodosia said. “We’ll slip in and out like a wisp of fog. It’ll be a matter of minutes. No big deal.”
“Actually, it is a big deal.” Drayton gazed at Theodosia in the darkness and noticed that she was glancing repeatedly in her rearview mirror. “What? Something wrong?”
“I know it sounds crazy, but I think someone’s following us.”
“It’s a busy night with lots of cars on the road.”
“This car I’ve had my eye on has a wonky left front headlight,” Theodosia said. “It’s sort of canted sideways. I noticed it a few blocks back, and every turn we’ve made it’s followed us.”
“Not much you can do about it,” Drayton said. He looked back at the car and said, “I doubt it’s anything to be concerned about.”
“Oh no?” Without hitting her brakes, Theodosia cranked the steering wheel hard right at the next intersection, spinning them into a fast turn. Then she pulled to the curb, slammed on the brakes, and flipped off her lights.
“What kind of stunt is that?” Drayton cried. “You almost clipped the bumper on that Prius.”
“Wait one.”
They watched as the car with the wonky headlight sailed through the intersection, the driver never looking left or right.
“Now we’re going to see who that is!” Theodosia cried. She flipped a U-turn and accelerated hard, speeding after the mysterious car. She caught up with it almost immediately and tailed it for two blocks, then three blocks, all the while noticing that the driver seemed to be slowing down and looking for something. Looking for them? For her Jeep?
“Now what?” Drayton asked. “You’re going to run them off the road?”
“Not exactly, but we’re going to find out who that jerk is,” Theodosia said. “And what they’re up to.” She hit the gas, pulled up alongside the car, edged the nose of her Jeep in front of the car, basically forcing it to the curb.
When the mysterious car rocked to a full stop, Theodosia put the right-side window down so she could see exactly who’d been following her.
It was Bill Glass.
“Glass!” Theodosia shouted. “That was you? What do you think you’re doing ?”
Bill Glass looked only slightly sheepish. “Following you. I figured you were hot on some suspect’s tail. You know, because of the greenhouse thing. I thought I could get a story out of it. You can’t blame me for trying.”
“You scared the crabgrass out of me!” Theodosia shouted.
“Sorry,” Glass said, but he didn’t sound one bit remorseful.
“Go away, go home,” Theodosia shouted, in the same manner you’d scold a wayward dog who’d ventured outside his yard. “Go home!”
She pulled away fast, leaving Glass to eat her exhaust.
* * *
At one time the Vanderhorst Square Apartments had been a two-story dirty yellow-brick building that housed a bar, food market, and plumbing supplies shop. An enterprising developer had bought the building, stone-blasted the exterior, knocked out all the interior walls, and completely rehabbed the massive interior space with help from a Charleston Housing Authority grant. Now the entire structure had been turned into stylish one-of-a-kind apartments.
When they arrived at the charming building on Cannon Street, Theodosia pulled over and said, “What do you think?”
“I think this is madness,” Drayton said.
“I get that. What I mean is, what do you really think?” When Drayton remained silent, Theodosia shut off the engine and said, “Let’s try to keep an open mind.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means we should go take a look-see.” When Drayton didn’t reply, she said, “Tell you what, I’ll go in by myself. Because I really don’t want to force you into doing something that’s against your principles.”
“Well…”
Against his better judgment, Drayton followed Theodosia up the walk to the main entry of the apartment complex. A black wrought iron fence surrounded the entire building with an elaborate curlicued archway over the front walk. Enormous plantings of bougainvillea and palmettos added a patina of richness to the exterior.
“This place is really adorable,” Theodosia said. “Look how some of the lower-level apartments have their own patios and a few of the upper-level units have little wrought iron balconies, Juliet balconies. The developer managed to keep the funkiness of the old building and refresh it at the same time.”
Drayton crossed his arms in front of himself. “I bet we won’t even get in the front door.”
Theodosia grabbed the door handle, pulled it open, and said, “This way to the lobby.” They stepped inside an almost Victorian-looking lobby replete with crown molding, a chandelier, two brocade chairs, and a wall of mailboxes.
“And look here,” Theodosia said. “They’ve installed a nice new buzzer system. One buzzer to contact each resident.”
“Do you see Slide’s name there?”
“I see his given name, yes, and I’m pushing his buzzer right now.”
“He’ll be home,” Drayton predicted.
Slide was not at home. Theodosia made sure of it, pressing his buzzer thirty or forty times, enough to drive any sane person bonkers.
“See? Nobody home,” she said.
“Do you intend to pick the lock?” Drayton asked. “To get inside the complex?”
“No need,” Theodosia said as she hastily jabbed five or six other buzzers. When a man answered, “What?” in a tinny voice, she said, “Delivery.” And the main door was buzzed open, just like that.
“I can’t,” Drayton said. “I shouldn’t.”
“But you’re curious. Admit it.”
Drayton lifted a shoulder as Theodosia pulled him through the security door.
Fairly bouncing on the balls of her feet as she looked around, Theodosia said, “This place is really lovely. This wasn’t just a developer’s dream, they also hired a seriously talented decorator.” The hallway carpet was a muted floral design, the wallpaper was a rich cream and pale yellow stripe, and old-fashioned lamps with glass globes glowed next to each apartment’s recessed doorway.
“Not bad,” Drayton allowed as he looked around.
“We’re looking for apartment 210. Which would be…upstairs,” Theodosia said.
They found the stairway halfway down the first-floor hallway, a staircase that took them up eight steps to a landing where a table with a vase of silk flowers stood, then up another short stairway to the second floor.
“Since you’re still following me, is this a tacit agreement to take a look in Slide’s apartment?” Theodosia asked.
Drayton’s lips twitched. “Maybe.”
Theodosia fished a credit card out of her wallet—an old Visa card that had long since expired—and slid it between the lock and the doorjamb. Poked it this way and that.
Drayton watched her carefully. “Are you sure that’s going to…”
“Work?” Theodosia said. “It already has.” She pushed the door open, leaned in to turn on a light, and stepped all the way inside. When Drayton hesitated, she reached back, grabbed his sleeve, and pulled him inside as well.
Slide’s apartment wasn’t exactly a decorator’s dream. He had a beige sectional sofa, an innocuous brown wooden coffee table, a contemporary rug with an interlocking circle design, and a big-screen (really big-screen) TV.
“Except for the TV, this doesn’t look like the den of a dope dealer,” Drayton said. “It’s more like a conservative little old lady who attends church on Sunday and watches a lot of Turner Classic Movies.”
“Hold that thought while we have a look around,” Theodosia said.
She rummaged around in the living room—which didn’t have a lot of places to hide anything—then checked out the kitchen. She opened cupboards, pulled out drawers, and checked under the sink. Strangely enough, Slide came across as a neatnik.
“Huh,” Theodosia said when she looked inside the freezer. “Not much here except frozen vegetables. Some green beans, three packages of broccoli.”
“A vegetarian dope dealer?” Drayton said.
“Don’t know.” Theodosia tiptoed into the bedroom, did a quiet ransack of the dresser drawers, looked under the bed, and checked out the closet. After twenty minutes of searching, even looking at floor vents and electrical outlets, all she found was more bland decor.
“Maybe Slide’s not a genuine dope dealer at all,” Drayton said. “Maybe he’s a fraud who gets off on having a shady reputation.”
“No, Riley said Slide was a dealer.” Theodosia looked around. “And I’d have to say he’s a clever one at that.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Because Slide doesn’t keep his merchandise here.”
“Then where?”
“Maybe he’s got a storage locker somewhere, another apartment, or he uses his parents’ house. I don’t know. But this place is spick-and-span clean. You could bring a dope-sniffing dog in here and the poor mutt would fall asleep from boredom. So I think…”
brINNNG!
“Dear Lord, what’s that?” Drayton cried as he lurched for the door, almost tripping over his own feet.
“Just my phone,” Theodosia said, pulling it out of her pocket and silencing it immediately. “Sorry about that ringtone, I’ll change it to a chime.”
“Never mind that, someone must know we’re here!” Drayton cried. His nerves jangled as he envisioned being placed under arrest, having an unflattering mug shot taken, and spending a torturous night in jail.
Theodosia put the phone to her ear and said, as calmly as possible, “Hello?”
That’s when Bettina started screaming at the top of her lungs. “Help! Oh, Theodosia, I need you! Please come quick! Pleeeeease!”
“What’s wrong?” Theodosia asked. “What’s happened?” Bettina was sobbing so hard Theodosia could barely understand her. “Calm down, take a deep breath, and tell me what’s going on.”
“What’s happened?” Drayton was suddenly at Theodosia’s elbow.
She shook her head. “I don’t know.” To Bettina she said, “You’re going to have to calm down and speak a little more slowly. Tell me what’s wrong, honey.”
“I’m hurt bad,” came Bettina’s wet blubber. “And—you’re not going to believe this—but, oh jeez, Jamie’s been kidnapped!”