Chapter 6
“Not by my hand,” Theodosia replied in a steady, even voice. Then she peered at the highly irritated woman and said, “Excuse me, but exactly who are you?”
The woman bristled as she thrust out her jaw and pulled herself up to full height. “I’m Payton Van Courtland. I was previously married to Mrs. Van Courtland’s son, Brody.”
“Previously. As in now divorced?” Theodosia figured this woman didn’t have a leg to stand on when it came to any kind of lawsuit. Which was…whew…good. Very good.
“Brody and I may have parted ways but I still consider myself an integral part of the family,” Payton said.
“Then you must be heartsick over Mrs. Van Courtland’s death.”
“Her death?” Payton looked suddenly startled. “Yes, yes, of course I am.” She blinked rapidly, trying to muster up a few tears. When none materialized, Payton tried a different approach. She touched a trembling hand against the back of a chair and said, “I…I’m afraid I feel rather faint.”
“Why don’t you sit down and I’ll bring you a glass of water,” Theodosia said. She turned to Drayton, who, eyebrows raised in disbelief, was already pouring a glass of water from a pitcher on the counter. Theodosia carried the water to Payton’s table and said, “I’m sorry for your loss.”
Payton accepted the glass, took a few short glugs, then said, “This has been too much for me to handle.”
“Mrs. V’s death comes as a shock to a great many of us.”
“But you were there.” Recovering from her faux fainting spell, Payton fixed Theodosia with a steely-eyed gaze.
“And I chased after the person who might have been responsible for murdering Mrs. Van Courtland.”
“But you didn’t catch them.”
“They were armed and I wasn’t,” Theodosia said.
“Did you get a good look at the suspect?”
Theodosia thought back to last night and her impression of the possible killer as well as her surroundings.
The night had been dark as a coal bin, it was late, and nobody else had been on the street.
“Not really,” she said. “It was a moonless night and the assailant wore a black jacket, mask, and”—she gestured with her hand—“some kind of cap.” Theodosia paused, deciding she really didn’t want to get caught up in a discussion with someone she didn’t know.
“But you should really speak to the police about Mrs. V’s murder, not me. ”
Payton ignored Theodosia’s deflection and said, “That’s all you can tell me?”
“Pretty much.” Theodosia was starting to grow weary of this conversation. Or should she call it an interrogation?
Payton lifted her chin and said, “You know Brody is bat-poop crazy, don’t you?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know Brody,” Theodosia said. “I barely knew Mrs. V.”
“Brody worships at the altar of commerce. He spends money frivolously and, unlike some of us, has never held down a legitimate job.”
Theodosia just nodded. Judging from the expensive clothing Payton Van Courtland wore—including her Gucci horsebit boots—she wasn’t afraid to spend a few bucks either. Plus, Payton was on a rant and Theodosia didn’t want to give her any encouragement.
“Now I understand Brody has a new bimbo du jour. Dumped the old girlfriend and has taken up with this young little trick.” Payton grabbed her glass of water and took another sip.
“Either one of them could have easily killed Mrs. V. Or it could even have been Birdie Huger, that horrible housekeeper that Mrs. V employed. They’re all suspects in my book. ”
Theodosia nodded again, deciding it was easier to go along to get along.
Payton rambled on for a few more minutes, then shook her head, stood up, and said, “Thank you for the water. I’m sure we’ll meet again.”
Theodosia followed Payton to the door and said, “Take care.” Then she closed the door and, if she hadn’t been expecting a few more guests, would have locked it tight.
* * *
“Do you want to give me the skinny on that rather ill-mannered woman who continued to demand answers of you?” Drayton asked.
“I’m sure you overheard most of our conversation,” Theodosia said. “And know that it was Payton Van Courtland.” She touched fingertips to her right temple, feeling the onset of a headache. No wonder, after such an unpleasant encounter.
“The son’s ex-wife,” Drayton said.
“Now I see why she’s an ex,” Theodosia said with a pained expression.
“Do you have a headache?”
“I’m starting to.”
“Let me brew you a cup of blackberry tea,” Drayton said, getting busy.
“Thank you.” Theodosia knew that Drayton always had a tea remedy. Blackberry tea for headaches, chamomile tea for relaxation, lemon verbena for digestion, and ginseng tea to boost the immune system. He was a walking, talking pharmacopoeia.
“So was Payton heartbroken over Mrs. V’s murder or simply sniffing around to see if there’s a tasty inheritance?” Drayton asked as he measured tea into a small brown pot and added a splash of hot water.
“I’d say she’s very much hot on the trail of a possible inheritance,” Theodosia said.
“This might sound crazy, but I’m going to ask anyway. Do you think that Payton person could have had a hand in Mrs. Van Courtland’s demise?”
“That is a crazy idea.”
Drayton poured steaming tea into a cup and pushed it across the counter to Theodosia. “No crazier than Mrs. V’s murder.”
Theodosia sipped her tea and thought for a few moments. “You make an interesting point. Size-wise Payton could have been the person I chased after last night, though it was so doggone dark I never did get a bead on whether the person was male or female.”
“Pity,” Drayton said. “It would have narrowed it down.”
“Right, to only half the people in Charleston.”
“At least you’d be somewhere.”
Theodosia lifted an eyebrow. “You think I’m nowhere?”
“Apologies, I didn’t mean it in a negative sense. It’s just that it feels difficult to gain some traction on this. Not knowing who all the players are.”
“I hear you,” Theodosia said. She took another sip of tea, then added, “But Aunt Libby feels like she has a stake in Mrs. V’s murder so I’m going to give it my best shot.”
* * *
At the tail end of afternoon tea time, just as Theodosia was stacking teacups into a gray plastic tub, Detective Tidwell sauntered in. He didn’t ask if they were still open, merely seated himself at a table, settling his bulk into a creaking wooden captain’s chair.
“Is this a social call or are you here for a reason?” Theodosia asked, once she’d brought him a pot of orange pekoe tea and a cream scone accompanied by small pots of strawberry jam and Devonshire cream.
Instead of favoring her with an answer, Tidwell gazed hungrily at his food.
Theodosia sat down across from him. “I’m assuming you want to ask me a few more questions?”
“I do indeed, but not about your efforts last night,” Tidwell said finally.
“Though you were most foolish to chase after that…intruder.” He sliced his scone in two and slathered one of the halves with too much jam.
Then he added an enormous dollop of Devonshire cream that threatened to slide off immediately.
“Then what do you want to know?”
“I’m interested in the ex-daughter-in-law, Payton Van Courtland.”
“You’re already familiar with her?” Theodosia asked.
Tidwell closed his eyes and chewed for a few moments, enjoying his afternoon tea treat.
Then he opened his eyes and said, “Payton paid me a rather unpleasant visit this morning. And once she stopped screaming and lecturing me on how to do my job, she announced she was going to come over here and threaten you. Did she?”
“You sent that crazy lady over here?” Theodosia cried.
Tidwell held up a hand in a kind of mock apology. “There was nothing I could do to stop her. So, yes, in a way I did send her spinning your way. But there’s a method to my madness.”
“I’m not seeing it, so perhaps you’d best explain.”
The corners of Tidwell’s lips twitched. “What if I wanted to get your impression of Payton?”
“That’s it? Really?” Theodosia said. “Because you generally freeze me out of your investigations. I think the words you so often throw at me are, ‘Mind your own business.’ ”
“Let’s just say I’ve mellowed on my former stance.”
“Somehow I find that hard to believe.”
“You know, this is an awfully delicious scone,” Tidwell said. He was stalling for time and Theodosia let him. Maybe something productive would come out of this. Maybe. Finally, he said, “I’ve done some investigating on Payton and it appears she’s a bit of a spendthrift.”
“Is that another way of saying she’s always broke?”
“The woman lives a luxe lifestyle but can’t afford it. Apparently her downfall is gambling at the local casinos.”
“Ouch,” Theodosia said.
“Needless to say, a peek into her bank account and tax records tells us she’s in deep financial trouble.”
“So the ex-daughter-in-law has a motive. Which makes her a serious suspect in Mrs. V’s murder?”
“Let’s just say she’s on our list.”
“Would you care to share who else is on your list?” Theodosia asked.
Tidwell’s mouth twitched at the corners. “How about some quid pro quo? Who’s on your list?”
Theodosia sighed. “I’m still working on that.”
* * *
As the purple shadows of late afternoon crept across the tea room, Theodosia straightened tables and chairs for tomorrow.
And pondered what she knew so far concerning Mrs. V’s murder.
Roger Birch had made several unsuccessful runs at purchasing Mrs. Van Courtland’s house and now Mrs. V was dead.
So that was suspicious in and of itself.
Payton Van Courtland was in dire need of money.
And Brody Van Courtland was a big spender and car collector who had a new girlfriend.
The facts were all interesting, the coincidences almost startling, but nothing pointed directly to any of them as the murderer.
No, Theodosia decided, there had to be someone else out there who had a powerful motive for knocking off Mrs. Van Courtland. But who?
Theodosia was so deep in thought that she didn’t hear the phone ring. She barely heard Drayton call her name, until he said, “Theodosia,” in his loud orator’s voice.
“Sorry,” she said as she took the phone from him. “Just lost in thought.” Then, “Hello, this is Theodosia.”
It was Gordon Twombley. “Good afternoon, Theodosia,” he said. “Our dear Angie has been filling me in on your background and I hadn’t realized you had a reputation for being a crackerjack amateur detective.”
“I hadn’t realized that myself,” Theodosia laughed.
“Well, Angie was highly complimentary about your so-called sleuthing abilities. So I was thinking…if you are looking into things, why don’t you come by Mrs. Van Courtland’s home this evening?
I have a short meeting with Birdie Huger, the housekeeper, and I could introduce you.
It might help you get a perspective on the case.
Again, that’s only if you’re truly interested. ”
Theodosia had to think about this for a few moments. If she went, she’d probably be committing herself, jumping right into the fire. If she didn’t go, it’d be no harm, no foul.
What to do? What to do?
“Again, I don’t wish to pressure you,” Twombley said.
“How about eight o’clock?” Theodosia said.