Chapter 15
15
But no, it turned out the top half of the casket was wide open, with Celeste lying in quiet repose. Her head rested on a peach-colored silk pillow, and the expression on her face looked for all the world as if she’d simply fallen asleep. Dressed in a high-neck ruffled blouse, with blond hair styled very carefully. No head trauma was visible.
Thank goodness.
Drayton came up alongside Theodosia and said, “She looks beatific, as if she just fell asleep. Like Snow White waiting for her prince to come and kiss her so she can wake up.”
“No princes here tonight,” Theodosia said. “But it’s possible a killer might be lurking.”
That caused them both to turn and gaze at the swirl of people.
“I wonder if that’s really so,” Drayton said.
“Keep your eyes and ears open,” Theodosia said. “Watch for anyone who doesn’t seem to fit in or is hanging back.” Theodosia did a quick scan of the crowd. “But first…”
Theodosia and Drayton dutifully extended their condolences to Celeste’s family. Sabrina was there to help break the ice and introduce them to her parents and various family members. Once the niceties were out of the way, Sabrina discreetly pulled Theodosia aside and said, “Is there any news?” She blushed slightly, then added, “I don’t mean to put you on the spot, but Bettina talked your investigating prowess up to high heaven, so much so that I’m almost expecting miracles.”
“No miracles quite yet,” Theodosia said, reaching out to pat Sabrina’s arm. “But I intend to snoop around tonight, meet a few people, and hopefully ask a few questions.”
“You think the killer might be here?” Sabrina looked stricken.
“Not necessarily, but someone here might have seen something or picked up a shred of information. Anyway, that’s for me to worry about, not you.”
“Bless you,” Sabrina whispered.
Bettina and Jamie were at the visitation, of course, Bettina wearing a black dress and looking appropriately sad for her dead maid of honor, while Jamie simply looked tired and hurt. He was dressed casually in jeans and a navy blue sweater and still wore his nose brace. One hand was wrapped in gauze and tape, and he seemed a little bit out of it. Theodosia attributed this to all the painkillers he was taking.
Theodosia went over to talk to them just as Jamie staggered away and headed for the refreshment table.
Good, now I can talk a little more freely.
“Bettina,” Theodosia said. “How is Jamie holding up?”
Bettina shrugged. “The doctors say he’s healing, and Jamie feels that he’s doing better as well. But he seems…how should I describe it?” She made a downcast face. “Jamie seems diminished to me. Like he’s not all there, like he’s not quite Jamie.”
“He’s been through an awful lot, you both have.”
“I suppose. At least he’s out of the hospital, that’s a blessing.”
Theodosia looked around. “Did Delaine happen to tag along with you?”
Bettina rolled her eyes. “Aunt Delaine stayed home tonight because she said she was feeling sick. But I don’t think she really is. More like sick of all the questions from law enforcement and intrusions by the media.”
“The media’s been hounding you?”
“Some, yeah. Especially that one guy from K-BAM,” Bettina said.
“Ken Lotter, I know him. He’s not a bad guy, just awfully persistent.” Then, “Sabrina talked to you about doing a private session with the psychic tomorrow afternoon, right?”
“Oh yeah.”
“How do you feel about that?”
“I think it sounds scary,” Bettina said. “And a little bit out of left field. On the other hand, if it helps shed any light on the killer…the guy who sabotaged that greenhouse…I’m all for it.”
“Will Delaine be up for meeting with the psychic?”
Bettina offered a rueful smile. “She’s not a fan, so I’ll have to work on her some more.”
Drayton walked up to them, balancing three cups of punch. “Refreshments,” he said. “Although I can’t make any promises as to how refreshing this beverage actually is.”
Theodosia and Bettina accepted the drinks from Drayton and thanked him.
“I wanted to chat with Jamie,” Drayton told Bettina. “Ask him how he’s feeling, but he seems to be tied up at the moment.”
They all glanced over to where Jamie was leaning against the back wall, talking to a young man dressed in a black leather moto jacket and black jeans. He had curly brown hair, darting eyes, and, judging from the intensity of the conversation, a lot to talk about with Jamie.
“Who’s Jamie’s friend?” Theodosia asked. At this point she was looking at anyone and everyone who was remotely attached to Jamie.
Bettina frowned. “I don’t really know. Although we were at Smedley’s Saloon one night having oyster shooters, and I do remember seeing that guy. He waved at Jamie, but when I asked Jamie who he was, Jamie changed the subject. So…maybe just an old friend from school?” She shrugged. “Who knows? On the other hand, Jamie’s made tons of new acquaintances since he took that broker’s job at Hamilton and McLaughlin.”
“And that’s probably a good thing,” Drayton said. “Career-wise.”
Theodosia and Drayton wandered about the room then, trying to look incognito but keeping a sharp watch for anyone who seemed out of place.
No one did.
“This isn’t working out the way I thought it would,” Theodosia said.
“Agreed,” Drayton said. “Nobody looks remotely sinister, as if they were trying to replot Jamie’s demise. Or go after Bettina.”
“Which is kind of a relief.”
“I’m going to take another spin over to the refreshment table,” Drayton said. “I think one of those cookies has my name on it.”
“Go,” Theodosia said. She glanced around and her eyes lit on Jamie again. This time he was talking to a tall woman with short, red, curly hair who was dressed in a gray business suit. Curious, she decided to wander over.
“Shouldn’t you be sitting down?” Theodosia said to Jamie. “Didn’t you just get out of the hospital?”
“Yes!” the woman cried in agreement. “This guy checked himself out just a few hours ago. Crazy, yes?” She smiled at Theodosia and said, “I’m happy to see someone else is looking out for Jamie’s welfare, too.” She stuck out her hand and said, “We haven’t been introduced. I’m Barbara Campbell. Babs to all my friends.”
“Theodosia Browning,” Theodosia said, shaking the woman’s hand. She noted that the woman wore Ferragamo heels with her business suit and had an expensive-looking leather envelope, really an attaché, tucked under one arm.
Theodosia took a shot in the dark. “You must be one of Celeste’s friends?” She gave the woman a commiserating look.
“Actually, no,” Babs said, somewhat brightly. “I didn’t know Celeste or her family at all. I showed up mainly because I knew Jamie would be here.” She paused, a crooked smile on her face as she gazed at Jamie.
“Excuse me?” Theodosia said. She felt as if she’d missed something here. Like, a connection.
“Truth be told, Jamie and I used to be engaged,” Babs said to Theodosia.
This filled in the missing piece Theodosia had been wondering about. “I see,” she said. And because Theodosia was imbued with a powerfully strong curiosity gene, she asked, “And your engagement was fairly recent?”
“Oh no, it’s been over two years since we called it quits,” Babs said. Then she broke into a wide grin. “It was the best thing for us. We really weren’t that compatible—or even madly in love. I think we were mostly good friends who hung around together and figured marriage was the next logical step. Except it wasn’t.” Babs grinned again and waggled her head comically from side to side as if to say, What a ditz I was!
“So no hard feelings?” Theodosia asked.
“None whatsoever,” Babs said.
Theodosia looked at Jamie, who said, “Babs and I are lucky that way. We know we’ll always remain friends.”
“So you were probably an invited guest at the wedding?” Theodosia said.
“The wedding…” Babs pinched her lips together and made a sad face. “Yeah, I arrived there and…wow, things had already gone ka-pow crazy. The police were all over the place…the ambulances…” She shook her head. “What a bizarre tragedy, bordering almost on the operatic.”
“Babs thinks everything is operatic,” Jamie said.
“That’s because I was just elected to the Charleston Opera Board,” Babs said. “Can you believe it? Little old me? I think it’s mostly because I work in PR.”
“Do you have your own firm?” Theodosia asked.
“Don’t I wish. No, I work at Milne and Kerrison Public Relations,” Babs said. “We do work for a bunch of tech and financial companies.”
“And I imagine that keeps you busy?” Theodosia said.
Babs lifted her leather envelope and said, “I’m headed home now to work on a press release for Burton Industries.” She winked at Theodosia, then said, “But I’m engaged to their CFO, so I’m pretty sure the account is a lock.” Then Babs turned a warm smile on Jamie and said, “But I still worry about this big lug. I mean, look at him. Wearing that silly nose splint that covers half his face. Makes him look like the creepy serial killer in that scary movie…”
“You mean Hannibal Lecter?” Theodosia asked.
Babs snapped her fingers. “That’s the guy. Hey, nice to meet you,” she said to Theodosia. Then she turned to Jamie, gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek, and scampered off.
Theodosia decided it was time to round up Drayton and bid goodbye to Sabrina. But when she looked around, Drayton was deep in conversation with an antique dealer friend, and Sabrina was talking to a man she didn’t recognize. But wait a minute…whoever the guy was, he’d clearly upset Sabrina.
Her antenna tuned up high, Theodosia moved toward Sabrina. And, as she got closer, overheard part of her conversation. Or rather, it sounded more like an angry plea.
“You had no business coming here tonight,” Sabrina said in a harsh whisper.
“I have every reason in the world to be here,” the man shot back.
“Please leave.”
The man crossed his arms over his chest. “Make me.”
“Excuse me,” Theodosia said. “I don’t mean to butt in, but you two seem to be having a problem.”
“She’s the problem,” the man said. He was tall, well over six feet, with bristly dark brows and a scruffy beard that he probably thought made him look like a hip musician. He wore a hoodie and jeans and looked totally out of place. “She doesn’t want me here.”
Theodosia stared at the man. “And you are…?”
“Karl Rueff.”
Celeste’s bad-boy ex-boyfriend, Theodosia suddenly remembered. “Of course, I’ve heard of you.”
“Good things, I hope,” Rueff said.
“Not exactly. And since Sabrina has politely asked you to leave, I think you should respect her wishes.”
“Respect,” Rueff snorted. “Fat chance of finding any of that around here.”
“Just the same,” Theodosia said, “it’s probably best that you leave.”
“At least I got a last chance to see Celeste,” Rueff said as he stomped off.
“Thank you,” Sabrina said to Theodosia, once Rueff had left. She waved a hand in front of her face as if to fend off tears.
“Is there a reason you didn’t want him here?” Theodosia asked. “Besides the obvious fact that he’s ill-mannered and seems to make you upset?”
Sabrina was at a loss for words for a few moments, then finally stammered out, “Karl Rueff is just…bad news.”
* * *
Five minutes later, the killer stood against the back wall, surveying the room full of mourners. And thought, I did this. I made this happen all by myself.
The old saying that revenge was sweet was only partially true. Revenge was fine, adequate almost, but a good, bloody death was so much better. That thought, savored with gusto, made the killer feel all warm and tingly inside. Almost brought on a case of the giggles. Top that with the fact that the hick county sheriff and the Charleston police weren’t even remotely close to catching the killer, and it became pure poetry. Because—hah—the incompetent fools were looking in an entirely wrong direction.
Now the killer’s gaze fell upon the tea shop lady. That one seemed a little too curious, a little too big for her britches. Which meant the killer would have to keep a sharp eye on her. Maybe throw a wrench into things if need be. Or if the snoopy tea lady got too close, the killer might have to arrange another accident. Which, in the long run, might prove to be highly amusing.
* * *
On the way home, Theodosia told Drayton about meeting Karl Rueff.
“You think he’s a problem?” Drayton asked.
“I think Rueff is more than a problem, he’s a possible suspect,” Theodosia said.
Drayton turned in his seat to study her profile in the dark. “Seriously?”
“Rueff was rude and angry and clearly had a motive for showing up tonight.”
“What do you think that motive was?”
“Possibly to gloat.”
“You think he killed Celeste?”
“It would have been difficult for Rueff to know that Celeste would run into that greenhouse first,” Theodosia said. “But we probably shouldn’t rule him out.”
“It looked like you fraternized with some interesting people tonight,” Drayton said. “And who on earth was that curly-haired guy Jamie was having an intense conversation with?”
“I’ve no idea,” Theodosia said as she turned down East Bay Street, then cut over on Chapel. “When I went over to talk to the guy, he saw me coming and basically sprinted out the door.”
“That was fairly weird.”
“It gave me a strange feeling. As though he really didn’t want to talk to me.”
“And the woman you were chatting with?”
“An old flame of Jamie’s,” Theodosia said. “A PR lady by the name of Babs Campbell.”
“And I take it that flame has flickered out?”
“Well over two years ago, now they’re just friends.”
“You’re sure about that?”
“Jamie’s engaged, Babs is engaged. So I don’t think there’s a problem.”
“There’s no chance that Babs…?”
“Could have sabotaged that greenhouse? She was actually an invited guest to the wedding and showed up after the disaster had happened. So no, I don’t think so.”
“Then who was the maniac who fiddled with those greenhouse gears?” Drayton wondered aloud. “Who’s crazy enough to do something like that?”
“I don’t know. I simply haven’t uncovered enough information yet.”
“You mean evidence.”
Theodosia gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. “Right. Hard evidence, not just hearsay.”
“Still, between Hunt and Lynch and Rueff you’ve managed to assemble a decent muddle of suspects.”
“I have a feeling more will turn up,” Theodosia said, “the deeper we dig into this.”
“You think that’s possible?” Drayton asked as they drove past a large Italianate home on the corner of Tradd and Legare. Orange and green lights lit the front portico, where three life-sized skeletons dangled and danced in the chill October breeze and a diaphanous white ghost with a hollow, deranged-looking face dangled from the upper balustrade.
Theodosia looked over at the strange specter and said, “At this point I think anything’s possible.”