Chapter 23
Theodosia sat in her Jeep outside the Tangled Rose B and B wondering what to do. She watched as the shiny black Crime Scene van arrived and two techs jumped out, then she pulled out her phone and called Drayton. When he answered, she said, “I have a few things I need to tell you about.”
“More problems?” Drayton said.
“Majorly so.”
“Where are you now?”
“Sitting in front of the Tangled Rose B and B. Veda Fisher’s been taken ill.”
“You mean like a heart attack or something?”
“More like a poisoning.”
“Dear me, perhaps you’d better come by.”
* * *
“Hasn’t this turned into the worst week ever,” were Drayton’s first words when he opened his front door.
“Tell me about it,” Theodosia said. She was still feeling jittery and upset. And her auburn hair, always full to begin with, was beginning to react to the humidity and swirl about her head like a friendly Medusa.
Drayton took one look at Theodosia and said, “You look as if you’re in dire need of a fortifying drink. Perhaps a glass of wine? I could open a nice bottle from my cellar.”
“Couldn’t hurt,” Theodosia said.
With Honey Bee dancing around his feet, Drayton grabbed a bottle of wine, a corkscrew, and two glasses. Then he led Theodosia into his library, where they sat down in comfortable facing leather chairs. Drayton popped the cork, sniffed it suspiciously, then poured each of them a glass of wine.
“This is a Pouilly-Fuisse so it probably needs to breathe a bit,” he said.
“Certainly not on my account,” Theodosia said. She took a sip of wine, reveling in the taste of the crisp liquid rolling down her throat. It had an aroma of fresh apples with an almost toasty finish. Two more sips and she felt the first hint of the knot loosening in her stomach.
“Everyone I know has a living room,” Theodosia said as she gazed around at shelves of leather-bound books, the library table Drayton used as a writing desk, and the Tiffany lamp in the corner. “But you have a library and a parlor.”
“I’ll wager Mrs. V had a library and a parlor as well.”
“Three parlors, actually. At least she did. But who knows what’ll happen to that grand old mansion now if a developer like Roger Birch tears into it.”
“Maybe he’ll carve out four lovely apartments,” Drayton said.
“That doesn’t sound like you. Usually you’re a preservation fanatic.”
“Perhaps I’m mellowing.”
Theodosia almost choked on her wine. Then she laughed and said, “Trust me, you’re not.”
“Okay, good to hear. Very reassuring that my character is what you might call shelf stable. Now, tell me what this poisoning was all about, because somebody out there sure hates this family.”
“You think that’s it?” Theodosia said.
“Don’t you?”
“I’m not sure what to think anymore.” Theodosia drew a deep breath and said, “It looks as if somebody sent a cookie basket to Veda Fisher’s room and the cookies were toxic.”
“Is she in any danger of dying?”
“The paramedics didn’t seem to think so.”
“Good.”
“You know it’s the same B and B where Payton is staying. Brody’s ex-wife.”
Drayton’s brows knit together. “Do you think Payton sent Veda the poisoned cookies?”
“I don’t know. Payton showed up at Veda’s room and went into complete blubbering hysterics. I think it was credible but…it could have been an act.”
“This coming directly on the heels of Amber’s kidnapping,” Drayton said.
Theodosia nodded. “A lot going on. A lot to digest.”
“Then let’s try to analyze the various bits and pieces,” Drayton said. “See if we can develop some kind of theory.”
“Okay.”
“Earlier today, Brody claimed that Amber was kidnapped.”
“She was kidnapped,” Theodosia said. “The police are taking it seriously and Brody is practically beside himself with fear.”
“But was Amber really, truly kidnapped?”
“You’re doubting Brody’s story? To me he seemed utterly bereft,” Theodosia said.
“You’re a keen judge of character, so if you say Brody was upset, then he probably was. But just the same, I want you to hear me out on this.”
Theodosia took another sip of wine. “Sure.”
“There’s always the remote possibility that Amber may have staged her own kidnapping. And, in doing so, engineered a high-stakes ransom demand.”
Theodosia let loose a long sigh. “We pitched that idea to Brody and he practically went berserk. So I don’t know. I mean, I suppose it’s possible. But Amber would certainly need a clever accomplice to help pull it off.”
“But what if Brody was in on it?” Drayton asked. “Maybe it’s his way of getting a quick five million dollars instead of waiting for his mother’s will to go through probate.”
“No, Brody is over-the-top crazed about Amber’s disappearance. Trust me, he’s not acting. Nobody’s that skillful an actor.”
“What if Amber really was kidnapped then, and Payton is responsible?”
“What would be her motive?”
“Get her revenge? Drive Brody crazy?”
“That I could see,” Theodosia said. “Payton seems a little, I don’t know, out there.”
“Okay then, stay with me on this,” Drayton said. “Could Payton also have been the one who tried to poison Veda?”
“They’re staying at the same B and B, so Payton obviously had a certain degree of access. But I still don’t see her end game.”
“Maybe she doesn’t have one,” Drayton said. “Maybe she’s just kapow crazy.”
“Or maybe Payton isn’t involved in the kidnapping or poisoning at all. It’s just a case of her being at the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Okay, let me shoot you another crazy angle,” Drayton said. “What about Roger Birch? Is he sinister enough to grab Amber and use her as some kind of leverage?”
Theodosia stared at Drayton. His theories were coming fast and furious and each one was terrifying in its own right.
“You mean so he could buy Mrs. V’s house?” she asked. “In a kind of fire sale?”
“Exactly.”
“We know Birch has a reputation as a hard-nosed businessman, but is he that much beyond the pale?” Theodosia asked.
“Then how about Birdie?” Drayton continued. “She’s kind of the constant behind-the-scenes figure in all this.”
“And she’s got a sick brother,” Theodosia pointed out. “Or nephew. Or somebody.”
“And we’re assuming she needs money.”
“Probably. She did have that bunch of hospital bills lying on the table.”
“Did you tell Tidwell about the hospital bills?” Drayton asked.
“Things have been so crazy that I completely forgot.”
Drayton pointed to the phone on his library table. It was one of those old-fashioned French dial phones. “Maybe you should call him.”
“He seemed awfully harried when I left the Tangled Rose. Trying to sort out the kidnapping as well as the poisoning.”
Drayton leaned back in his chair. “Better to call Tidwell in the morning then.”
* * *
Theodosia finished her glass of wine, turned down the offer of a second glass, and drove home.
She snapped a leash on Earl Grey and walked him around the block.
The night had turned a little cooler and a silver half-moon was riding in the sky, bouncing among the clouds like a pirate’s galleon.
Theodosia held the leash loosely and let Earl Grey wander at will as she checked her phone.
There was one missed call from Riley, but when she called back he didn’t answer. Rats.
Theodosia let Earl Grey lead her back home as he sniffed at a banana palm tree, a couple of lampposts, and a wrought-iron gate.
Then she gave a gentle tug and they turned back down her alley in a slow, languid walk.
As they came through her back gate, Theodosia was pleased to see a small contingent of fireflies swarming in the azalea bushes.
And, at the same time, was hit with a spark of inspiration.
Maybe I should try to find Tommy Huger. What if he’s at the center or nexus point of all this?
With that in mind, Theodosia hurried upstairs, changed clothes, and washed her face. Then she climbed into her four-poster bed and grabbed her laptop computer.
A quick search revealed that there were three Tommy Hugers living in the area. One in Charleston proper, one in North Charleston, and one over in Goose Creek. Since the hospital bills she’d seen were for Cooper General in Goose Creek, she figured the Goose Creek Tommy Huger had to be the right one.
Another search revealed an address—223 Larch Lane—and Google Earth took her to a visual of a nondescript-looking apartment building.
Was it worth a visit? Theodosia looked at her watch. Too late now, it was well past eleven o’clock. She could hardly drive over there, knock on his door, and introduce herself.
But maybe something to consider for the morning?
Ah, the morning. Her alarm was set to ring at six thirty so Theodosia put her computer aside, scooted under the covers, and promptly fell asleep.