Chapter 26
When Theodosia got back to the tea shop, Haley had retreated to her apartment upstairs, but Drayton was still working behind the front counter. Not only was he fastidiously arranging teapots, she wouldn’t be surprised if he was alphabetizing his tea tins.
“How did the Gift Show Tea go?” Drayton asked as Theodosia dragged two wicker hampers into the tea room.
“Angie thinks it was a hit,” Theodosia said. She let go of the hampers, kicking one out of the way.
“Then it must have been. Did Angie’s guests enjoy my custom blended tea?”
“Drayton, they adored it. A couple women were guessing about the flavors and were astounded when I told them you’d blended orange peel and wild cherry bark into Chinese black tea.”
“It pays to go bold,” Drayton said.
Theodosia looked around. The tea shop looked perfect. Chairs just so, tea and teapots lined up on the shelves. “So why are you still here?”
“Just finishing up and getting ready to turn out the lights.” Drayton frowned as he glanced out the front window. “We seem to have lost our abundant sunshine. You think it might rain?”
“Maybe,” Theodosia said. Then, “Tell you what, I’m gonna leave these hampers right where I dropped them and deal with them tomorrow. So, you want a ride home?”
“There’s an offer I won’t refuse.” Drayton whipped off his apron and hung it on a peg. Then he latched the front door, followed Theodosia down the hallway and through her office and out the back door.
“Pay no attention to the boxes in back,” Theodosia said as Drayton climbed into the passenger seat. “They’re just some teapots I picked up at a tag sale last weekend.”
“Any treasures I should know about?”
“I found a Spode Billingsley Rose Pink teapot and a half dozen Wedgwood dessert plates in the Patrician pattern.”
“Lovely,” Drayton said. He leaned back and wiggled his shoulders, getting comfortable.
But the minute Theodosia turned onto Church Street, the wail of a siren broke the calm. Seconds later, a second siren took up the call.
“Police cars?” Theodosia wondered as she drove past Antiquarian Books.
Drayton twisted around to peer out the front and back windows. “I’m guessing there must be a fire somewhere.”
“Dear Lord,” Theodosia said as the wail of sirens grew louder and closer.
Then a block down, on Tradd Street, an enormous fire engine streaked through the intersection, horn blatting, siren screaming.
“I think the fire must be in the Historic District!” Theodosia immediately thought about her home with Earl Grey inside, Drayton’s home with Honey Bee, and the homes of all her friends.
“Follow it,” Drayton said.
Knowing Drayton had the same worries, Theodosia said, “Do we dare?” But she was already accelerating into the turn and racing down Tradd Street.
Drayton rolled down the passenger window. “I don’t smell any smoke.”
“Still, the fire must be close by. Listen to all those sirens.”
“Maybe a big fire? Two or three different companies called out?” Theodosia said as she navigated down Lenwood, then turned onto Pine.
Huge gluts of gray smoke were suddenly billowing into the air and she knew she must be getting close.
And when she turned down 27th Street, she could hardly believe her eyes.
“It’s the Honey Badger House!” Theodosia cried. “Honey Badger House is on fire!”
“Pull over,” Drayton cried.
Theodosia slowed, looking for a place to park. When she couldn’t find one, she pulled into someone’s driveway a block and a half from the fire.
“This will have to do,” she said as they jumped from the Jeep and hurried toward the residence. And all the while Theodosia kept thinking, This can’t be happening, this can’t be happening.
But it was for sure happening.
Two enormous fire engines were parked crossways in the street and a dozen firefighters were squirting huge streams of water onto the house.
“Look,” Drayton cried. “They’ve already beaten back the flames.”
They watched as water crashed onto the roof like thunderous raindrops, then whooshed down the sloped eaves and puddled on the front sidewalk.
The kids from Honey Badger House, all sixteen of them, were huddled on the front lawn of the house next door. Two of the boys—Desi and Mikey were their names?—looked angry and defiant; the rest of the kids just looked miserable.
When Lenny saw Theodosia, he rushed up to her and cried, “Somebody set our house on fire!”
“Are you okay?” were Theodosia’s first words.
“Are all the kids okay?” Drayton asked. He was just as concerned as Theodosia.
“I think so,” Lenny said, but his voice carried a tremor. “We’ve already done two head counts and everybody seems to be here.”
“That’s a blessing,” Theodosia said as she stared into the faces of the kids.
But all she saw was sadness and downturned mouths.
In fact, everyone looked completely worn out, as if one more terrible thing had come crashing down on them.
As if the temporary home they’d thought was a refuge had proven to be vulnerable.
“You stay with the kids,” Drayton said. “I’m going to talk to one of the firefighters.” And with that he marched across the soggy lawn, practically tripping over hoses while still managing to look authoritative in his Harris Tweed jacket and yellow striped bow tie.
Theodosia and Lenny watched as Drayton buttonholed one of the fire captains, listened to him for a minute, and nodded. Then Drayton headed back to them.
“Apparently the firefighters arrived here just in the nick of time,” Drayton said. “The fire was mostly contained to the back porch and hallway. There may be a small degree of smoke damage in the kitchen, but nothing too serious. Definitely no structural damage.”
“Thank goodness,” Theodosia said. “But even though the fire hasn’t touched the main part of the building, the disruption for these kids has to be disheartening.” She thought for a moment, then looked around and said, “Who’s in charge here?”
Lenny pointed to a gray-haired man who was standing in the street talking to one of the firemen. “Mr. Bremmer is.”
Theodosia looked over at him. Bremmer wore a yellow sweater and a pair of dark painter’s pants, and he was scratching his head, looking more than a little concerned.
“He’s the executive director of Honey Badger House,” Lenny explained. “Mr. Bremmer doesn’t live here, but he’s here a lot of the time. Has a small office up on the third floor.”
“I’m going to go over and talk to him,” Theodosia said. “Drayton, will you stay with…?”
“Of course,” Drayton said.
Theodosia marched over and introduced herself to Mr. Bremmer and the fireman, who happened to be Captain Richards of Station Three. “What happened?” she asked. “How did this start?”
Captain Richards, a good-looking man with thick brown hair, piercing green eyes, and a smudge on his face, said, “Because of the fire’s point of origin, we’re thinking arson.”
Theodosia took a step back. She figured that maybe a pan had been left on a burner, or that somebody had been smoking in bed. But arson? This was beyond serious.
“Who could be responsible?” she wondered out loud.
“Surely it wasn’t one of the kids,” Bremmer said. He looked completely disheartened.
But the fire captain just shook his head. “Got to let the arson squad investigate. The police are on their way, too. They’re sending a few officers to comb the area, see what they can find.”
Theodosia wandered back to where Drayton was standing with Lenny. A few of the kids began to cluster around her, looking at her with hope in their eyes.
“The fire captain suspects arson,” Theodosia told everyone. “They’ve already started an investigation.”
“What do we do now?” one of the kids asked.
“Let’s just sit tight and see what happens,” Theodosia said. “Maybe the smoke inside isn’t all that bad. Maybe you can get back in your house later tonight.”
They all waited for ten minutes, then fifteen minutes as the sky got progressively darker and thunder rumbled overhead.
When Theodosia started having visions of shepherding everyone to the Indigo Tea Shop and passing out tea and blankets, a shiny black Suburban pulled to the curb.
Moments later, Detective Burt Tidwell jumped out.
Even as he held a cell phone to his ear, he was striding toward them, his jacket straining to contain his large body, his pants billowing around him. Still, he was a sight for sore eyes.
“I spoke on the phone to Fire Chief Woodley and to Mr. Bremmer, the executive director here,” Tidwell told Theodosia, “and per their request, I’ve arranged for a bus to come pick up these kids. We’ll take them all to a hotel for the night.”
“You can do that?” Theodosia asked. “Just commandeer a bus and a hotel?”
Tidwell shrugged. “Not an issue. I’m positive the city’s got some money tucked away for a rainy day.”
“A slush fund,” Theodosia said. “Excellent.”
“Can we run inside and grab some of our stuff?” one of the kids asked.
“Clothes and computers,” another kid said.
“Let me check with whoever’s in charge here,” Tidwell said.
“Captain Richards,” Theodosia said.
So Tidwell huffed over to Captain Richards, had a quick conversation, and came back. “The answer is yes, but only if you go under the guidance of two of his men. And then you’ve only got five minutes.”
“That’s all we’ll need,” Lenny said.
“Thank you for this,” Theodosia said to Tidwell as the kids were led into the house by two of Captain Richards’s men.
Tidwell waved a hand to indicate it was no big deal. But it was to Theodosia. She could see how shaken up the kids were. A night in a hotel with room service would give them a bit of luxury and a small sense of security.
Ten minutes later, Mr. Bremmer had the kids reassembled on the lawn with backpacks and gym bags. A few minutes after that, a city bus pulled up and everyone climbed aboard.
“Harbor Hotel,” Tidwell told the bus driver. “Kindly drive directly there and do not make any unauthorized stops. No matter what these kids ask for.”
“Got it,” the bus driver said. He put two fingers to the side of his head and shot Tidwell a quick salute.
As the bus pulled away, rumbling and belching fumes, a uniformed officer hurried up to Tidwell.
“Sir!” the officer called out. He raised his hand to capture Tidwell’s attention. “Detective Tidwell!”
Tidwell turned to face him. “What?”
“We found something.” The officer was red-faced and clearly excited. His name tag read D. Miller.
“Show me,” Tidwell said.
Miller drew a deep breath. “You authorized a few officers to conduct a search of the area and…”
“Yes, yes.” Tidwell was impatient.
“Well, we found this,” Miller said. He held out a crumpled brown paper bag.
“A bag,” Tidwell said.
“It’s what’s in it that’s important, sir,” Miller said. He smoothed the bag, then opened it so Tidwell could peer in.
“Dark,” Tidwell said. “You have a flashlight?”
Miller produced a flashlight and shone it inside the paper bag.
“Looks like a store receipt stuck to the bottom,” Tidwell said. “Did you touch it?”
Miller shook his head. “No, sir. But I looked at it. That is, Officer Dixon, who was searching with me, held his flashlight so I could look inside and read the receipt. Sir, the receipt is for a gallon of charcoal starter from Allandale’s Market.”
“Where did you find this bag?” Tidwell asked.
“In a trash can,” Miller said. “Two blocks away. I had a feeling—”
Tidwell raised a hand. “Captain Richards,” he called out.
Captain Richards hurried over.
“While searching trash cans in the area, Officers Miller and Dixon found a paper bag with a receipt inside for charcoal starter.”
Captain Richards let out a low whistle. “Let’s take a look.”
“Don’t touch it,” Tidwell warned. “We’ll need to check it for prints.”
Officer Dixon came running over with a large sheet of plastic. “Maybe shake out the receipt onto this,” he said. “Then we can look at it properly before we bag it for the Crime Scene team.”
“Good,” Tidwell said.
So Officer Dixon knelt down and spread out his sheet of plastic. Then Officer Miller gingerly shook out the receipt. It fluttered and twisted as it dropped from the paper bag onto the plastic.
Everyone crowded around to look as Miller shone his flashlight on it. Even Theodosia and Drayton got in on the act.
“This receipt is for one gallon of charcoal starter,” Tidwell said. “Brand name Sure-B-Q Charcoal Starter.”
“You think it was used to set the fire?” Dixon asked.
“We need to run a number of forensic tests,” Captain Richards said, “but I’m guessing this could be our culprit.”
Tidwell bent his head closer to the receipt and studied it. “Whoever purchased the charcoal starter did so with a charge card.”
“It should be easy to trace then,” Theodosia said as rain began to patter down, “since the credit card number is right on it.”
* * *
“Who do you think purchased that charcoal starter?” Theodosia asked. She was sitting with Drayton at a corner table at Poogan’s Porch, one of Charleston’s well-established restaurants and their personal favorite. Drayton had suggested they stop there and grab a bite to eat.
“No idea,” Drayton said. “But I have a feeling we’re going to know the answer by tomorrow morning.”
“I can’t imagine any of the Honey Badger kids has a credit card.”
“No, I would think not.”
Theodosia opened her menu. “So what should I…?”
“Do?”
“I was going to say what should I order.”
“Why not your usual?” Drayton said.
“You mean the diver scallops with green apple chow-chow?”
“Yes, and I’ll get my standard Southern Caesar salad and she-crab soup.”
“I think this calls for a glass of wine, too,” Theodosia said. “As a chaser to this crazy day.”
“Ah, but tomorrow could get even crazier.”
“Please don’t say that,” Theodosia said. “We’re still on pins and needles about Amber.”
“Poor girl,” Drayton said.
They ordered food and wine. When the waiter brought the wine to the table, he set the cork down in front of Drayton, but Drayton waved him off and said, “Please just go ahead and pour.”
“That’s unlike you,” Theodosia said when the waiter had gone. “Usually you like going through the whole cork ritual.”
“Not tonight. Tonight I just want to drink my wine and relax.”
“And I have to say it’s a very good wine,” Theodosia said. Drayton had ordered a bottle of Chateau Latour à Pomerol. She lifted her glass, swirled the red liquid gently, and said, “What shall we drink to?”
“What else but here’s hoping to solve a murder, a kidnapping, and a poisoning,” Drayton said. “Three distinct tragedies.” He looked across his wineglass at Theodosia and said, “Please, don’t you end up the fourth.”