Chapter 13
“That’s right,” Theodosia said. “We met when you came by my tea shop yesterday and, well…we met. It’s, um, nice to see you again.” When Payton didn’t answer, Theodosia crossed the carpet to the cozy study with its armchairs and well-stocked bookcase and said, “I take it you’re staying here?”
Payton seemed to snap out of her self-imposed trance.
“For the time being,” she said. “It’s stylish and comfortable and I…
” Her glance traveled in the direction of the hallway that led to the back patio.
“And Mrs. V was killed here…technically murdered…so I thought why not? At least until I’m finished talking to the police and the lawyers have revealed the contents of the will. ”
“The will?” Those two words popped out of Theodosia’s mouth even as she thought, No, Payton, I don’t think you’re going to be a beneficiary in Mrs. V’s will.
“Of course it’s going to be terribly unfair,” Payton continued with a touch of bitterness. “I know in my heart that Brody’s in for the lion’s share.”
Theodosia shifted from one foot to the other. “You never know.”
“Oh, but I do. You forget I married into that family, so I know how they work. Know some of their dirty little secrets, too.”
Theodosia was about to reply when another woman who was checking in at the front desk turned to stare at them. She was seventy-something with silver-gray hair, wore a powder blue skirt suit, and had two large caramel-colored soft-sided bags parked next to her.
In a quavering voice, the woman said, “Payton? Is that you?”
Payton stared back at the woman. “What?” she snapped, her tone veering into rudeness.
The silver-haired woman stepped away from the front desk and headed directly for them. There was a tentative smile on her face as she said, “It’s Veda. Do you remember me?”
Payton squinted at the woman, made a lemon face, and said, “Oh jeez. It is you, isn’t it? The sister.”
“That’s right, I’m Veda Fisher, Olivia Van Courtland’s sister.” Veda Fisher blinked back tears and corrected herself. “Well, she was my sister.”
The two women shook hands then, Veda giving a sad smile while Payton offered a grudging nod. Which gave Theodosia the perfect opportunity to step in and introduce herself.
“Mrs. Fisher? I’m Theodosia Browning. Kind of an…acquaintance of the family. And I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you,” Veda said as Payton stood up from her chair.
“I’ve got to, um, got to go,” Payton said. “It was good seeing you again, Veda, even though these are not ideal circumstances.” Then Payton abruptly hurried off.
Veda looked at Theodosia and said, “Has my face turned green?”
“Pardon?”
Veda gave a wan smile. “Payton couldn’t get out of here fast enough, so I just assumed something about me offended her.”
“I think she’s just upset.”
“She’s upset? I’m upset,” Veda said.
“You have good reason to be,” Theodosia said. “And, again, I’m very sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you, dear. Tell me your name again?”
Theodosia touched a hand to her chest. “I’m Theodosia Browning. I hosted the Firefly Tea…” She stopped as a look of utter despondence stole across Veda’s face.
“The tea event that was held right here, where my sister was murdered,” Veda said.
“Yes, and I feel absolutely heartsick about that. If it’s any consolation to you, I thought I saw your sister’s killer sneak through the back hedge and, in a moment of outrage and sheer desperation, ran after him.” Theodosia stopped abruptly. “Or maybe the killer was a her, I’m still not sure.”
Veda took a step backward, looking absolutely gob-smacked. “You did that? You actually chased after my sister’s killer?”
“Tried to anyway. But when the killer turned a butane torch on me I had to back off.”
Veda’s face softened. “That’s amazing, you must be very brave.”
Theodosia shrugged. “Under the circumstances, anyone might have done the same thing.”
“But you were the one who did it. I’m impressed. And thankful, too.”
“I just wish I could have somehow apprehended your sister’s killer.”
Vega touched a hand to Theodosia’s arm. “So do I.”
“Theodosia?”
Theodosia turned to see who was calling her name. And found Neela Carter strolling across the lobby toward her.
“I thought that was you,” Neela said. She was a trim fifty-five with lovely ebony skin, expressive dark eyes, and hair that was done in braids with tiny cowry shells attached. Neela moved with the grace of a Siamese cat, so you never heard her coming save for a gentle rustle of shells.
“Neela,” Theodosia said, “I’d like to introduce you to Veda Fisher. She’s Mrs. Van Courtland’s sister.”
Neela’s face crumpled in sympathy. “Oh no. I can’t tell you how sorry I am that your sister was murdered here. Nothing like that has ever happened before at the Tangled Rose.”
“I’m sure not,” Veda said. “I take it you’re the owner?”
“Yes, I am. And you’re here to, um, what? Inspect the scene of the crime?” Neela asked.
“Veda just checked in here,” Theodosia explained.
Neela looked visibly shaken. “Oh my. Then we must find you one of our most comfortable suites.”
“You’re very kind,” Veda murmured.
“Nonsense,” Neela said. “It’s the least we can do.” She turned to Theodosia and said, “Right?”
“Right,” Theodosia responded.
“Mrs. Fisher,” Neela said, “did Theodosia tell you what she did?”
“Chased after the culprit? The killer?” Veda said. “Yes, indeed, she was just telling me.”
“Our Theodosia has quite the reputation,” Neela said.
Veda Fisher looked uncertain. “Oh?”
“She’s somewhat of an amateur sleuth.”
Veda looked at Theodosia with renewed interest. “I had no idea. Are you…are you by chance trying to solve my sister’s murder?”
“Of course she is!” Neela cried. “Theodosia has an uncanny ability to dig up clues and ferret out suspects. Don’t you, dear?” Neela beamed at Theodosia.
Theodosia just smiled back.
“Then we must sit down together and talk,” Veda said. “Though for now…”
“I’m sure you’re tired and want to get settled in your room,” Theodosia said. “Though actually…”
“Yes?” Veda said.
“I have something for you,” Theodosia said.
Veda was surprised. “You do?”
“Just give me a minute.”
“Excuse me while I check on your reservation,” Neela said as she smiled and headed back to the front desk.
Theodosia ran out to her Jeep and grabbed the bouquet of flowers Lenny had given her earlier today. Then she took it back inside the Tangled Rose B and B and presented it to Veda.
“Flowers?” Veda said.
“It’s from the kids at Honey Badger House.”
“What’s that?” Veda asked. “Some sort of local boutique?”
“Actually, it’s the halfway house your sister helped to support. The kids there passed the hat and bought a condolence bouquet.”
“Oh my Lord. Olivia and her charities.”
“She must have been a very kind person,” Theodosia said.
Tears shone in Veda’s eyes. “You have no idea.”
* * *
But this day wasn’t over yet for Theodosia. The evening seemed ripe for gleaning a little bit more information about Mrs. V’s murder. So she decided to keep going and talk to the people Detective Tidwell had branded as possible suspects. In other words, the kids at Honey Badger House.
Gliding to a stop in front of the halfway house, Theodosia sat in her car and took an appraising look at the place.
It was an enormous old home, heavily ornate in the Rococo Revival style and probably built by one of Charleston’s early rice or indigo barons.
The house had probably passed through any number of families until it had been taken over by the nonprofit group that now ran Honey Badger House.
Still, it very much looked as if a family resided there.
Lights were on in almost every window of the three-story manse, shadowy figures flitted back and forth on the wide front veranda, and three bikes were chained to the wrought-iron fence that ran along the driveway.
Theodosia wondered if there was a guest house or garage in back that also housed residents, but it was too dark to tell.
Once she’d gathered her thoughts, Theodosia stepped out of her Jeep and walked up the front sidewalk.
A faint smell of marijuana lingered in the air and music drifted toward her from an open second-story window—maybe something by Drake?
The figures on the veranda saw her coming and hastily converged at the top of three wide stone steps.
“Hello,” Theodosia called out, keeping her voice friendly and light. “Is Lenny around?”
A young man’s voice drifted back to her from the darkness. “Who wants to know?”
“My name is Theodosia and I spoke with Lenny earlier today.” As she got closer, she could make out the young man’s face. He was dark-complected with shaggy dark hair and was built wide like a wrestler. A small soul patch decorated his square chin.
“My name is Desi and I’ve been elected keeper of the gate,” the wrestler said. “If you want to go inside you’re going to have to pay a surcharge of…oh, let’s say five dollars.”
“Is that number firm?”
Desi grinned at her. “I could kick it up to ten.”
It occurred to Theodosia then that maybe they weren’t all nice kids. Maybe some had larceny in their soul. And one had murder in their heart?
Theodosia climbed the three steps until she was face-to-face with Desi.
“How’s the leg?” Theodosia asked him.
“Leg?” Desi looked startled. “How’d you know about that?”
“I have my ways,” Theodosia said. She moved past him, touched a hand to the front door, and pushed it halfway open. Then she stopped, turned to Desi, and said, “Okay if I go in? Make it a freebie this time?”
“I guess,” Desi said grudgingly.