Chapter 15
Theodosia had a salad in one hand and an order of scallops in the other when Veda Fisher walked into the tea shop. Veda stood just inside the front door and looked around, a mix of curiosity and hesitation on her face.
Theodosia delivered the food to her guests, then hurried to greet Veda. She was a little surprised that Veda had shown up so soon. This could mean…what?
“Veda, welcome. I didn’t expect to see you again so soon,” Theodosia said.
“I didn’t think I’d be connecting with you either,” Veda said. “But Neela over at the Tangled Rose told me you were most definitely working to solve my sister’s murder.”
“Well…”
“I know Neela was singing your praises to high heaven last night, but I figured it was just her way of being kind and generous. But this morning, when I went down for breakfast, she mentioned that you were a smart, dogged investigator who was definitely working the case.”
“Not technically working it,” Theodosia said as she led Veda to a table. “Because I’m not law enforcement.”
“Are you one of those internet people who scour online sites for clues and then crowdsource your findings?” Veda looked hopeful as she settled in her chair.
“No, I pretty much work alone. Well, there’s Drayton over there. Sometimes he lends a hand.”
Drayton came over, a steaming teapot in hand. “I heard my name mentioned. Favorably, I hope.”
“So you’re an investigator, too?” Veda asked him.
“No, I’m a tea sommelier.”
Veda’s brows knit together. “I’m not sure I understand.”
“True crime is actually Theodosia’s hobby,” Drayton explained. “Someone gets murdered and boom, she’s crackerjack on top of things.”
“That’s so not true,” Theodosia said. “Only when I know the person who’s been killed or am somehow involved.”
“As in the case of your sister. At the Firefly Tea,” Drayton said to Veda.
Veda pointed a finger at him. “Excuse me, but we know each other, don’t we?”
“Possibly,” Drayton said.
“You’re on the board of the Heritage Society,” Veda said with conviction. “The gentleman who always wears the elegant bow ties. I met you years ago at the Silver Spoon Fundraiser.”
“Sweet Fanny Adams, that party was eons ago,” Drayton said as he poured Veda a cup of tea. “It’s lovely to see you again, even though we’re meeting under such sad circumstances.”
“You’re very kind,” Veda said. She seemed charmed by Drayton’s manners and Heritage Society connection.
Drayton indicated Veda’s cup of tea and said, “That’s a Chinese black tea that I think you’ll enjoy. Very soothing and stimulating at the same time.”
“Exactly what I need.” Veda took a sip, nodded happily, and said, “You have such a charming tea shop here, why on earth would the two of you want to get involved in my sister’s murder?”
“A couple of reasons,” Theodosia said. “First, your sister was murdered at my Firefly Tea and I feel a kind of responsibility. And second, my Aunt Libby asked me to look into things.”
“Libby Browning who owns that lovely plantation out on Rutledge Road?”
“That’s right.”
“I remember Libby. She was fairly friendly with my sister as I recall.”
“They were sitting at the same table when your sister was murdered.”
Veda touched a hand to her heart. “Gracious. How awful. Every time a new piece of information comes to light it just stings my heart.” She closed her eyes for a minute, seemingly overwhelmed with emotion, then she opened them and smiled sadly.
“Still, I think it’s marvelous that you both have such a sense of justice. ”
Theodosia, sensing an opening here, sat down across from Veda while Drayton drifted away.
“I was wondering if you had any ideas as to who might have murdered your sister?”
“You’re very direct.”
“I don’t mean to upset you.”
“Oh, you’re not. Not really. So you asked who…” Veda stopped suddenly, frowned, and waved a hand in front of her face. “No, forget it.”
“Please, what were you going to say?” Theodosia asked.
“This is kind of nasty, but I can’t help thinking that Payton isn’t exactly a model citizen. She was spitting mad at my sister after the divorce, absolutely convinced she’d been stirring the pot. She hadn’t, of course. Payton and Brody were simply oil and water, never meant for each other.”
“Payton’s convinced she’s going to get a piece of the inheritance.”
“Well, she’s not,” Veda said. “I happen to be executor of my sister’s will and I can assure you that Payton is not on the receiving end of any inheritance.”
“Maybe Payton doesn’t want to believe she’s been cut out. Maybe she’s convinced herself that her name figures prominently in the will. Or maybe something much darker is going on.”
Veda frowned. “Like what?”
“If for some crazy reason Payton’s desperate for money, she could have decided to hurry things along.”
“By murdering my sister? A distressing thought because she really isn’t a beneficiary,” Veda said.
“I agree, but it’s still a remote possibility,” Theodosia said. “And then, of course, there’s Brody.”
“My nephew Brody may be a rogue and a playboy, but I can’t believe he’d kill his own mother.”
“The housekeeper?” Theodosia prompted. Theodosia didn’t believe Birdie was the killer, but wanted Veda’s take on the woman anyway.
“I’ve always thought Birdie was devoted to my sister.”
“She seems to be, but you never know about these things,” Theodosia said. “Over time certain resentments can build up…”
“I suppose that’s true.”
“And there’s a real estate developer who’s salivating to buy your sister’s house,” Theodosia added.
“Brody mentioned him to me. But I know nothing about this fellow. Birch is his name?”
“Correct.”
“Perhaps I should try to connect with him,” Veda said. When Theodosia looked worried, she added. “But carefully. Preferably by phone.”
“Okay.”
“And I have a meeting scheduled with the police tomorrow morning, with a Detective Tidwell.”
“A good man,” Theodosia said. “Very persistent. Though he’s probably not going to reveal much about the investigation.”
Veda leaned in toward Theodosia. “But you seem to have a few suspicions of your own.”
“A few,” Theodosia admitted. Then she decided to push Veda a bit more. “Do you know anything about Brody’s new girlfriend, Amber?”
“Not a thing. I’ve never even met her. You don’t think she…?”
“I don’t think anything right now. Not yet anyway.”
“But you really are working on this case.” Veda reached out and put a hand on Theodosia’s wrist. “Bless you for that. But please be careful.”
“I will. I am.”
Veda resisted all of Theodosia’s efforts to get her to stay for lunch and left soon after.
It was just as well. Minutes later they had a tea shop filled with customers and Theodosia was focused on getting the right orders to the proper tables.
It kind of felt like horses for courses, the phrase Gordon Twombley had quoted to her.
“Teas are up,” Drayton called to her.
Theodosia spun over to the counter where Drayton had lined up an armada of teapots.
His hand ticked over the top of the teapots. “The Japanese green tea goes to table four, the silver needle to table six, and the Keemun Mao Feng to table one. Oh, but do warn them that the Keemun’s dark, almost cocoa flavor can leave a tingle on your tongue.”
“Got it,” Theodosia said. “At least I think I do.”
“And Lois from Antiquarian Books called earlier. She has that Blofeld book you wanted. The Chinese Art of Tea.”
“Wonderful.” Theodosia delivered tea, brought refills of Devonshire cream and strawberry jam, refilled a sugar bowl whose contents had mysteriously receded into nothingness—did people really like their tea that sweet?
—and then delivered more tea. She was clicking along and feeling good, pleased that it was another slam-dunk luncheon.
Until Amber and Brody strolled in.
“Surprise, surprise!” Amber called out with a girlish shriek. This afternoon she wore a tiny red knit top that barely skimmed her midriff, faded blue jeans, and two-tone Chanel heels. On her arm she carried a teensy-tiny gold brocade Fendi bag.
“Love the baguette,” Theodosia said as she greeted them.
“Isn’t it dope?” Amber squealed. “All my friends are pea green with envy.”
“Another gift from Brody?”
“Dontcha know it.” Then Amber tipped back on her heels and looked around, taking in the decor, the floor-to-ceiling wall of tea tins, and the general warmth and ambiance. “So this is what a real tea shop looks like.” She seemed pleasantly surprised.
“And you know what?” Brody said, giving Amber a nudge. “Over there is a real tea shop table. Maybe we should sit down and order?”
Theodosia guided them to a table and handed them today’s menu.
“Kind of a short menu,” Brody commented. He wore a two-day stubble, cream-colored cashmere sweater, and khaki slacks. His hair was artfully tousled.
Amber reached over and gave his arm a playful slap. “It’s a tea shop, sweetie, not a steak joint with a leather-bound menu and forty pages of whiskey and cognac selections.”
“If you’re looking for something a little hearty, I can recommend the scallops,” Theodosia said.
“That’s okay,” Amber said as she studied the menu. “We’ll figure this out.”
And figure it out they did. Theodosia ferried out cups of Darjeeling tea, raspberry scones, a double order of citrus salad, and a triple order of the roast beef and caramelized onion tea sandwiches. Amber may have been tiny, but she ate like a dockworker on a ten-minute break.
When Theodosia showed up with a fresh pot of tea, Brody said, “I thought you’d like to know that we’re planning to hold a memorial service for my mom next week at the Heritage Society.
She’s leaving them a fairly generous bequest and they have a lovely auditorium so…
why not?” Brody’s words sounded casual and almost flippant, but his face betrayed the grief that lurked right below the surface.
“If you’d like to serve refreshments I could certainly help with that,” Theodosia said.
Brody brightened at her offer. “That’s very kind of you. Refreshments hadn’t occurred to me, but now that you mention it I’d like to take you up on that.”
“See,” Amber said, “it was a good thing we came here after all.”
“I guess so,” Brody said. He smiled wanly at Theodosia. “And maybe we could get some of those raspberry scones to go?”
“How many would you like?” Theodosia asked.
“A half dozen,” Amber said.
While Amber and Brody dawdled over final cups of tea, Theodosia packed up their scones, delivered the bag to them, then cleared away dishes and checked on Haley in the kitchen. When she came back out, Amber and Brody had paid their bill and left. “They’re gone.”
“But Amber left her bag,” Drayton said.
“Her bag of scones?” Theodosia asked.
“No, her bag bag.”
“Actually, it’s called a baguette,” Theodosia said. She stared at the tiny sparkly pouch hanging off the back of the chair and an idea whirled in her head. “And I’m wondering…do I dare?”
“I don’t even want to know,” Drayton said, suddenly turning his back and getting busy with his floor-to-ceiling rack of teas.
Of course Theodosia dared.
With the speed of a fox ransacking a henhouse, Theodosia opened the bag, found Amber’s wallet, and fished out her driver’s license. She laid it on a bare table and took a quick photo with her phone.
“What are you going to do with that?” Drayton asked.
“Email it to Tidwell, of course.”