Chapter 30
The Starry Starry Night Ball was in full swing as searchlights shot dazzling columns of light into the dark sky and cars and limos lined up to drop off passengers at the Magnolia Civic Center.
Theodosia handed off her Jeep to a red-coated valet, then stared in surprise when she recognized Desi, one of the Honey Badgers.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“Parking cars,” Desi said. “Mrs. V set this gig up for us a few weeks ago. She thought it would be a good way for us to earn some tips.”
“Kind of her,” Theodosia said. It was a little disconcerting seeing Desi here, but she vowed not to let it bother her. Instead, she grabbed Drayton’s arm and together they headed for the column of ball goers waiting to walk the red carpet.
As they made their approach, Theodosia could feel Drayton beginning to hang back. “What?” she asked him. “What’s wrong?”
“There are photographers.” Now he stood there unmoving, lips pursed and looking unhappy.
“You knew the local media was going to cover this.” Despite the rain outside, a good-sized contingent of press had shown up. Now they lined the length of the red carpet shouting at socialites and minor celebrities to turn this way, then that way.
“And you intend for us to walk through that melee?” Drayton asked.
“It’s just a quick walk down the red carpet in front of a step and repeat.”
“Kindly tell me again what a step and repeat is?”
“It’s that big paper backdrop with sponsors’ logos on it.
See, over there? With the logos for Cambridge Cellars Wine, Mears Mercedes Benz, and the Southbridge Country Club.
” Sensing Drayton was still highly reluctant, Theodosia said, “Tell you what, we’ll make it a point to breeze through nonstop.
” Theodosia wasn’t a celebrity, never aspired to be one, so she was just as happy to skip all that nonsense.
Drayton turned his face away from the shouts and camera flashes as they did a fast trot down the red carpet. His friend Timothy Neville was another story. Looking dapper in his Brioni tuxedo, Timothy posed for the cameras and smiled as he strolled leisurely down the red carpet.
“Timothy loves the publicity,” Theodosia observed, once they were safely inside the civic center and surrounded by other ball goers.
“He has to,” Drayton said. “He’s ramping up for our big fundraising campaign at the Heritage Society.”
They melted into a large group and were carried along by the crowd that was heading for the Van Gogh Interactive Event.
“Theodosia!” a woman cried out.
Theodosia turned to find Brooke Carter Crockett waving at her a short distance away.
“Love your gown,” Brooke said as she sidestepped and excused her way through the crowd to where Theodosia and Drayton had stopped. “And your hair looks so cute.”
Theodosia reached up and gave her hair a reassuring pat.
“You should have seen it two hours ago.” Out of frustration (and the lateness of the hour), she’d twisted her mass of auburn hair into a slightly messy topknot and secured it with about a hundred bobby pins.
Then she’d added an antique jeweled butterfly pin to keep it all corralled.
The hair police hadn’t ticketed her yet, so she must look okay.
Progress was slow as Theodosia and Drayton continued to push their way through the black-tie crowd, stopping to greet friends as they went. Then, halfway down the corridor, Theodosia was shocked when Payton Van Courtland suddenly lurched in front of them.
Payton was dressed in a froth of pink ruffles with matching high heels. Her jet-black hair was fluffed softly around her face, but her eyes were hard as marbles.
“You got her back,” Payton said to Theodosia. “Amber, I mean.” Her mouth twisted. “The police called me a couple of hours ago.”
“I’m happy to report that Amber’s alive and well,” Theodosia said. “Even though it was a bit of a cat-and-mouse chase.” She didn’t relish talking to Payton but she didn’t want to cause a scene, either.
“I’m sure Brody was thrilled.” Payton herself didn’t sound one bit thrilled.
“Of course he is,” Theodosia said. Payton’s attitude seemed strangely aggressive and was starting to ruffle her feathers, so she said, “I really didn’t expect to see you here tonight, Payton.
Especially after your fire-setting antics at Honey Badger House.
” Theodosia knew her words were hard-hitting and brusque, but she couldn’t help it.
After all, how dare Payton set a fire and terrify all those kids.
Payton lifted one bare shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. “Oh that? It was all a simple misunderstanding.”
“That’s not how Detective Tidwell tells it,” Theodosia said. “Two fire stations rushed to handle a blaze that you deliberately set. You should be ashamed of yourself.”
“Like I said, a misunderstanding,” Payton said with a cold smile.
“I’m sure you’re relieved to be headed home then,” Drayton said. He was also taken aback by Payton’s callous attitude.
“I can’t tell you why, but I’ve decided that I actually like Charleston,” Payton said.
“The people here are beyond peculiar, but the city itself is dripping with charm. You never know, I could be your worst nightmare and move here permanently.” Her lips twisted into a grin that looked almost malevolent.
“Maybe you could give me the name of a good real estate agent?”
“How about Roger Birch?” Drayton suggested. He’d just caught sight of Birch, who was standing ten feet away from them and talking loudly to a couple. Something about a fabulous home, blah, blah, blah, that was about to come on the market.
“Excuse me?” Payton said. At first she looked confused, then the name seemed to ring a bell with her and she frowned. “Birch? No, I don’t think so.”
Theodosia had also spotted Roger Birch, who suddenly focused his gaze on her and Drayton.
It was a cold, arrogant stare that was about as intolerant as an Easter Island statue.
Which for some reason gave Theodosia a case of the giggles and forced her to hurriedly walk away from Payton, pulling Drayton along with her.
“Why would Payton dare to show her face tonight?” Drayton said once they were out of earshot.
“Because she’s a sociopath?” Theodosia said. “And what about Roger Birch? He seems to always be working an angle.”
“Birch is a pompous boor who can’t help himself. But Payton…there’s something unhinged about that woman.”
Theodosia had stopped giggling. “Besides the fact that she’s a gold digger and an arsonist?”
“There’s something else not right with Payton. She always acts like she’s harboring a big juicy secret.”
Theodosia felt her heart lurch as her mind jumped to a worst-case scenario. “Do you think Payton was the one who kidnapped Amber?”
“I’m not sure I picked up that vibe,” Drayton said. Then he thought about what he’d said. “On the other hand, Payton’s got a nasty streak. She proved that by setting the fire. And she’s certainly big enough in stature that she could overpower a small person like Amber.”
“What you just said? It made me feel like somebody just walked across my grave.”
Drayton looked immediately upset. “Oh dear, I didn’t mean to cause you such worry.”
“It’s just that I’d relegated Payton to murder suspect and self-styled arsonist. Not kidnapper. But I suppose she could be all three.”
“Roger Birch could have kidnapped Amber just as easily,” Drayton said.
“I wonder where Birch was this afternoon while Brody and I were creeping around in the forest. I wonder if I can get Tidwell to check on his whereabouts.”
Drayton looked pained. “Now I’m sorry we’re even talking about this nasty business. Especially after the day you’ve had.”
“You’re right.” Theodosia waved a hand in front of her face as if to chase away all thoughts of murder and poison and arson and kidnapping. “We’re here to relax and have a good time. Be social.”
“And so we shall,” Drayton said. “What say we take a peek at this so-called interactive event?”
They continued down the hall and entered a large, dark room that made them feel as if they’d crawled inside a giant kaleidoscope.
Moving projections of Van Gogh paintings covered the walls, the ceiling, and the floor.
Starry Night was splashed up one wall and creeping onto the ceiling.
Sunflowers spun lazily as it lit up the floor.
Various portraits were intermingled and moving all around the room.
The super-enlarged images were fascinating in that they highlighted the brushstrokes and vivid colors and brought out small details.
Guests jammed the room, staring in wonder and seemingly entranced.
And as the projections moved, they sometimes lit up people’s faces and women’s gowns.
It reminded Theodosia of an old underground movie.
“This is amazing,” Theodosia said.
But Drayton was clearly not a raving fan. “Sweet Fanny Adams,” he huffed. “If poor Mr. Van Gogh or his brother, Theo, saw this show I believe they’d roll over in their graves.”
At which point Delaine Dish came running up to them, all smiles in a low-cut brocade gown worthy of Marie Antoinette, and wearing her over-the-top borrowed diamond necklace. “Isn’t this marvelous?” she cried. “Isn’t this interactive event a total hoot?”
“It’s a hoot all right,” Drayton said dryly.
Delaine slapped his arm playfully. “Stop it! I know when you’re being all uppity and snobby. But don’t you see how much fun this is? How everyone is having a total blast!”
“Ah,” Drayton said, “so that’s what I’m missing.”
“Theo,” Delaine said, “get him out of here. Doesn’t Drayton know this is supposed to be a grouch-free zone?”
Theodosia got him out of there.
“I’m sorry, I guess the experience was a little too much of a novelty for my old-fashioned sensibilities,” Drayton said.
“It’s okay. You’re allowed to like or dislike whatever you want.”
“And, excuse me, but where did Delaine get that bling?” Drayton asked. “Did she mug a representative from Cartier? Or suddenly hook up with a billionaire? The reflection from her necklace was positively blinding.”
“She borrowed the necklace from a jeweler. Now…what would you think if we moved on and took a look at the various tableaus? Lois Chamberlain and her dog, Pumpkin, are supposedly starring in one of them.”
“Then lead the way.”
They found Lois and Pumpkin in the Woman Walking Her Dog tableau.
Lois was dressed in an old-fashioned scarf and long brown dress and wore shoes that looked like potatoes on her feet.
Pumpkin danced around her, looking peppy and adorable.
Behind them was a painted backdrop of a Dutch street scene from the eighteen eighties.
All in all it looked charmingly authentic.
Drayton was intrigued. “Now this is rather unique,” he said. “A fresh take on how to bring a painting to life.”
“You think so?” Lois asked. “I was beginning to worry that we looked a little dour.”
“Well, the work you represent is one of Van Gogh’s pen-and-ink drawings, so it’s bound to look a little drab,” Drayton said, “but you and your little dog bring it to life beautifully.”
“I think you both look wonderful,” Theodosia said. “Very believable.”
“Thank you,” Lois said. “Now be sure to take a look at the other tableaus, as well—there’s Sunflowers, Self-Portrait as a Painter, Wheatfield with Crows, and Irises.”
“We will,” Theodosia said.
Lois tilted her head and said, “There you are,” to a white-haired gentleman who’d just strolled up to the group. “Theodosia, Drayton, this is my friend Edward Shipman. He’s the book dealer I was telling you about.”
Theodosia decided that Shipman actually looked like a book dealer.
He was mid-fifties with a slightly craggy face and bushy eyebrows.
But the real giveaway was the patterned cummerbund and bow tie he wore with his tux.
If you looked closely at the pattern, you could see it was really tiny book images.
She figured Drayton would identify with him immediately.
Once introductions had been made, Shipman said, “Lovely to finally meet you both,” in what could only be a British accent. “Lois has told me so much about you—and raved about your lovely tea shop, which I can’t wait to visit.” Shipman shook hands with Drayton, then gave Theodosia a friendly hug.
“So you’re British,” Theodosia said. Shipman had one of those cut-glass English accents that reminded her of landed gentry who resided in centuries-old castles or manor homes and enjoyed a formidable collection of Turner paintings and foxhounds, not necessarily in that order.
Shipman smiled amiably at her, his dark eyes twinkling. “Well, I was a British subject, but now I’m an American citizen. Have been for a dozen years.”
“I’ll have to introduce you to Gordon Twombley—he’s a local antique dealer and an expat as well,” Theodosia said.
“Sure, why not,” Shipman said.
“Gordon’s here somewhere…” Theodosia looked around but didn’t see him or Angie. “Well, I’m sure we’ll run into him sometime tonight.”
“Where’s your bookshop located?” Drayton asked Shipman.
“A small town by the name of Gardens Corner. Not too far from Beaufort.”
“I’ve been through there a few times,” Theodosia said. “It’s quite charming.”
Shipman nodded. “But I have to say, it’s fun to spend a weekend in Charleston. Great restaurants, historic sites, fun people…” He nodded toward Lois.
“You folks don’t have to hang around me all night,” Lois said. She made a shooing motion. “Please wander around. Grab some champagne and hors d’oeuvres.”
“You and your little dog will be okay here?” Shipman asked her.
“Not a problem.” Lois glanced at her watch. “Go have fun. Besides, I’ve got a break coming in a few minutes. So I’ll catch up.”