“We had lunch at Cru Cafe over on Pinckney and then took a carriage tour,” said Tanna. “How about y’all?”
“Oh, I adore Cru! Their catering side did our wedding reception, didn’t they, sweetheart?” What we’d done that afternoon wasn’t very touristy.
“Well, you and your mamma put an awful lot of work into that menu, if I recall. But it was outstanding,” said Nate.
“Where all else have y’all eaten?” I asked.
“Saturday night we ate at Hank’s. Eric had to have fried seafood or he was gonna bust something. It was delicious. Then Sunday we spent the day on the beach over at Isle of Palms and grabbed a burger at Poe’s on Sullivan before we headed back. Monday was Poogan’s Porch and Tuesday was BBQ at Smoke. It sounds like all we’ve done is eat.”
“It all sounds delicious,” I said. “I’d love to have a day just to hang out on the beach and relax. That sounds heavenly to me. But being in the sun all day purely exhausts me.”
“Oh, me too,” said Tanna. “We came back here and fell into bed. I don’t think I even turned over ’til 8:00 the next morning.”
Two down.
Nate said, “Darlin’, I’m just going to step over here and speak to Jim.”
“Oh, wait,” I stood. “Y’all excuse us, please. We do need to go say hello.”
“Of course,” said Tanna.
Nate and I made our way to the other end of the porch. The two ladies were still talking in animated fashion, over the top of each other, while Mo and Jim smiled and nodded. We stood at the end of the sofa smiling.
The two women were maybe in their early forties, one blonde, one brunette. The story involved a sunrise kayak tour they’d taken from the marina at Isle of Palms, dolphins, and an alligator.
“It sounds fabulous,” said Mo when the blonde paused for breath. She looked at Nate and me. “Have you guys met Faith and Paige?”
We all said hey and exchanged pleasantries.
“We actually live on Stella Maris. We take the ferry ride from that same marina every time we come into town. Where are y’all from?” I asked.
“Atlanta,” said Faith, the blonde. “We came for a long weekend but decided to extend our stay.”
Why had they done that?
“You are so lucky,” said Paige.
“We are indeed,” said Nate. He looked at Mo and Jim. “Did y’all have a nice afternoon?”
“We did,” said Mo. “We had lunch at Five Loaves, then went on a walking tour. We just love all the historic homes.”
“Ah—Rainbow Row, the Battery. I especially love the houses along East Bay,” said Faith.
“Have y’all done any of the Plantation tours?” I asked.
“We have,” said Paige. “We left early Sunday and started at Middleton Place—the gardens are breathtaking. Then we went to Magnolia Plantation. I loved the gardens there too. I can’t decide which I liked better. Anyway, we had reservations at The Peninsula Grill, but we were so tired when we got back, we ordered takeout and crashed.”
If she were telling the truth, and I had no reason to suspect otherwise, Jim and Mo were our witnesses.
“Where’s everyone headed for dinner?” asked Nate.
Faith looked at her watch. “We need to change. We changed our reservation for Peninsula Grill to tonight.”
“Y’all enjoy,” I said. “If you like scallops, theirs are fabulous.”
They stood, said their goodbyes and left.
“What about y’all?” Nate and I slid into Faith and Paige’s recently vacated spots on the sofa.
“We thought about trying to get into McCrady’s,” said Jim.
“Restaurant or Tavern?” asked Nate. “The Tavern closed back at the end of July.”
“No, we were thinking about the restaurant,” said Mo. “The tasting menu sounds out of this world.”
“We’ve actually never been.” I looked at Nate. This was true. Charleston hosted a great many superb restaurants. We had our favorites and a long list of those we’d like to try. McCrady’s was on the list. But their single long U-shaped table was not the ideal setup for conversation amongst a party of four.
Nate lifted a shoulder, gave me a skeptical look. “Middle of the week in September. It’s possible, I guess. How would y’all feel about some company?”
“We’d love company,” said Mo. “Please come. If we can get in.” She sounded eager.
Nate pulled out his phone. “I’ll just step inside and give them a call.”
“We’d be happy to have you join us,” said Jim. “If they don’t have a table, maybe you could recommend a restaurant. You guys probably know all the best places to eat.”
“I think you’d be hard pressed to pick a bad restaurant in Charleston.” I mulled the best place for conversation. “Have y’all ever been to Charleston Grill? They have a tasting menu. But they’d likely be just as hard to get into on short notice.”
“Sounds great,” said Mo. “Really we’re fine with anything. I’m sure you’re right. We couldn’t go wrong. It’ll be nice to have company.”
Mixed emotions wrestled on Jim’s face. What was he thinking?
Nate stepped back to the porch, holding his phone to his chest. “McCrady’s has a spot for two. Shall I reserve it for y’all?”
Mo said, “Would you see if Charleston Grill has room for the four of us?”
“Certainly.” Nate stepped back into the kitchen.
“Oh, I hope they can work us in. Shall we walk?” I asked. “It’s a little more than a mile, but it’s straight down Cannon to King, then a nice stroll down King Street to the Shops at Charleston Place. Charleston Grill’s inside.”
Mo and Jim exchanged a glance. “I guess that’d be fine,” said Mo.
“Or we could drive,” I said, “or take a couple Scoops?”
“Scoops?” Mo squinted at me.
“It’s an electric car service on the peninsula. It’s free. You just tip your driver.”
“How do they do that?” asked Jim.
“Businesses advertise on tablets on the back of the headrests,” I said.
Nate walked back onto the porch. “All set. I hope 7:00 works for everyone.”
“Sure,” said Mo. “It’s fine.”
“We need to change,” I said. “If we want to walk, we’ll need to leave here by 6:30.”
“Let’s just take the electric cars,” said Mo.
“All right,” I said. “I’ll call and arrange for two of them to pick us up at 6:45.”
Behind the closed door of room number five, I said, “It has to be them, right?”
“By process of elimination, has to be.”
“What was up with you offering them a table for two at McCrady’s?”
“I was testing to see if they really wanted company this evening. If they’d have gone for it, the table would’ve been snatched right out from under them by a pair of scallywags while we were talking.”
“I can’t believe Charleston Grill had a table available at 7:00. I was prepared to have to eat late this evening.”
“There’s a story there, but I can’t tell it. Wouldn’t be in my best interests. Best to let you think I pulled a rabbit out of a hat.”
“Well done,” I said.
“All in a day’s work.”
“Listen, you know Jenkins told them not to talk to anyone about what they saw. In particular, he probably said, don’t talk to any other investigators who approach you.”
Nate winced. “I know. They seem like such nice folks. I really hate to play them, but I think we’re gonna have to.”
“I can’t see any way around it either. The second we tell them who we are, they’re not going to talk to us at all anymore.”
Nate reached up, held my chin, and smoothed his thumb across my lip. “Stop biting that gorge
ous lip of yours. This can’t be helped. Darius’s life may depend on it. We have to do our jobs.”
His blue eyes went smoky. He kissed me once, slowly, then propped his forehead against mine. “You’d best get in the shower if you’re going. I’m happy to help if you need me.”
“If you help me, we’ll miss dinner.” I grinned, pulled away.
“There is that.”
I grabbed a quick shower, redid my makeup, then slid into my navy and white dot poplin shirtdress and navy sandals. A simple silver starfish necklace and a pair of medium hoops completed my ensemble. I ran a brush through my hair and fluffed it a bit with my fingers.
“I’m ready whenever you are.” I moved away from the bathroom mirror and walked into the bedroom.
Nate waited by the door in his traditional khakis and a soft blue button down with the sleeves rolled up. “You look gorgeous,” he said.
How had I gotten so lucky? I walked over and placed a hand on his chest. “So do you.”
TWELVE
The Scoops dropped us off just before the corner of King and Market. Mo, Jim, Nate, and I made our way across King and underneath the green awning into The Shops at Charleston Place. Nate held the door, then followed us in. Charleston Grill was just past the Louis Vuitton store on the left. Tall planters with greenery flanked the dark wood French doors, which both stood open in welcome.
The hostess greeted us warmly and led us to a corner table by the glass wall overlooking the courtyard. With rich paneling, white tablecloths, pear green upholstered chairs, and carefully set tables, the restaurant exuded elegance. A quartet in the bar area played atmospheric jazz that wafted through the restaurant but wasn’t so loud as to make conversation a challenge. I smiled at Nate. He had done well.
“This is lovely,” said Mo. “Thank you for suggesting it.”
The waiter introduced himself as Adam and asked about our water preferences. Nate and I asked for bottled flat. Jim looked a bit uncomfortable, like maybe he could see how this meal was going to cost more than his first car. He wasn’t wrong.
Mo asked for bottled water as well and gave Jim a look I’m sure Nate recognized. He and I exchanged a quick glance. We needed Mo and Jim relaxed, having a good time, and not shy of ordering the alcoholic beverages of their choice.
“Listen.” Nate spoke in a conspiratorial tone. “Now I know this is going to sound highly inappropriate, and the last thing I’d ever want to do is offend guests in our fair city, but Liz and I have just had a run of luck. We’re celebrating this evening. That’s actually why we’re staying downtown. We’d be honored if you’d be our guests for dinner.”
“Oh, we couldn’t possibly.” Mo looked slightly horrified. “That’s not necessary.”
When my husband set his mind to charm someone, they would be charmed. He leaned in. “Mo.” He met her eyes with his deep blue ones and deepened his drawl. “This is important to us. It’s a very special evening, you understand? Liz and I, we’re probably gonna go slap crazy, hog wild, off our rockers and order enough food for ten people. We’re gonna get downright sinful. We’re approaching this meal with wild abandon. We need you and Jim to come along for the ride without hesitation. We need this, Mo.” He turned to Jim. “Jim. Would you oblige me, please?”
Jim looked at Mo. “My dear, I think this may well turn out to be the most unusual trip we’ve ever taken.” He turned back to Nate. “Very well. If you insist.”
Nate smiled broadly. “That’s what I’m talking about. Thank you so much. This is going to be fun. Where’s Adam?” He looked around and motioned Adam over. “Adam, this is a special occasion. We’d like to start with a bottle of champagne.” Nate flipped through the wine list, ran his finger down the page, then tapped it when he saw what he wanted. “Bin number 498, please.”
Adam nodded. “Yes, sir.” Then he verified. “The 1985 Krug, sir?”
“That’s the one.”
Adam nodded again. “Right away, sir.”
I was reasonably certain Nate had just ordered a wine ten times more expensive than any either of us had ever had in our entire lives. He was setting the stage. To keep his momentum going, I said, “I think we all know we want the tasting menu, right?”
“Sounds good.” Mo wore an expression that said she thought we might both be crazy but seemed harmless enough.
“Let’s go for the eight courses and add the caviar,” I said.
“Perfect,” said Nate, “and we’ll get the wine pairings to go along. Y’all do like wine, don’t you?”
“Indeed we do,” said Jim.
“They do nice combinations here,” said Nate. “But if y’all would prefer, we can choose the wines ourselves.”
“No, the pairings sound fine to me,” said Jim.
“I assume the Scoop cars will come back for us?” said Mo.
“Absolutely,” said Nate.
“That’s good,” said Mo. “Because I don’t think we’ll be able to walk back to the bed and breakfast.”
“That’s the spirit,” said Nate.
“What are we celebrating?” asked Jim.
“Jim, my lovely wife has just been promoted. She works for a defense contractor. Now, I can’t say which one, and I can’t tell you what she does exactly. Hell, I don’t even know for sure myself. But she just got a damn impressive promotion, and I’m just so proud of her I can’t contain myself.”
“Congratulations.” Jim and Mo both smiled warmly.
“Thank you ever so much,” I said. “I’m pretty excited about it myself.”
“As well you should be,” said Mo.
A gentleman who introduced himself as Steve showed up with our champagne, and another server slipped champagne glasses into place and then disappeared so quickly it was like the glasses had just appeared on their own recognizance.
Steve went through the ritual of presenting the bottle for approval, opening it, pouring Nate a taste, and waiting for his go ahead before filling the rest of our glasses. Then Steve placed the bottle in an ice bucket on a stand near the table and slipped away.
Nate raised a glass. “To my beautiful, brilliant wife. Congratulations, sweetheart.”
Mo and Jim raised their glasses. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you all so much, truly.” I sipped my champagne. It was ridiculously good. I was going to have to be very careful. I dearly loved champagne. But I needed to keep my wits about me.
Adam returned to the table and Nate ordered the eight-course tasting menu with the caviar supplement for all of us. Adam went through a series of questions about food allergies and preferences so the chef could be certain not to send us something we wouldn’t enjoy. We were all eager for whatever she decided to send.
“We’ll have our champagne with the caviar,” said Nate, “and then the wine pairings after that, the top tier.”
“Yes, sir. Good choice. We’ll get the caviar right out.”
I savored another taste of champagne. “So tell us, what all have y’all done since you’ve been here? You got in…when did y’all get into town again?”
“We drove down from New Hampshire,” said Mo. “Took the scenic route. We spent a night in New York and another in Virginia Beach. Got here on Friday.”
“That your green BMW convertible in the parking lot at the B&B?” asked Nate.
“It is,” said Mo. “That’s my toy car. It’s a 1997 Z3. I’ve racked up 160,000 miles on it in the eighteen years I’ve had it. I love it.”
“Convertibles are so much fun,” I said.
“I wouldn’t take anything for mine,” said Mo.
“Is this your first time in Charleston?” Nate asked.
“It is,” said Jim. “We’ve traveled a good bit, but this is our first time here. Beautiful city.” Jim took a long drink of champagne. I was thinking he liked it as much as I did.
A serve
r approached the table with a tray and served us each a standing silver spoon with an amuse-bouche—perhaps two bites of watermelon salad with feta and mint. “From chef.” His accent was perhaps Russian.
We all picked up our spoons with interest.
“It’s certainly pretty,” said Mo.
It tasted bright and refreshing. We all murmured appreciatively. With impeccable timing, shortly after we’d all finished, Adam delivered the caviar. The inky black beads were mounded in a small oval crystal dish, with matching dishes of crème fraîche, chopped onion, and shaved egg whites on a crystal platter. Toast points and circles were artfully arranged around the dishes.
“Bon appétit, y’all,” said Nate.
I’d never had caviar in my life, and I wasn’t sure I’d like it. I sipped my champagne. To my surprise, my husband dug right in, seemed a bit nonchalant. But that was part of the role he was playing. I would play my part as well.
I smiled, took a toast point and scooped on some of the caviar, then dressed it with a bit of onion and some crème fraîche. With far more nonchalance than I felt, I took a bite. The Hallelujah Chorus started playing in my head. Good grief that stuff was good. No wonder it cost so much. I washed it down with a generous swallow of champagne.
“So y’all arrived Friday,” I said. “What’s your favorite thing you’ve done so far?”
Mo said, “I just love walking around the city. It’s like walking back in time. Well, if you ignore all the cars, anyway.”
“I know what you mean,” I said. “The old houses are truly lovely.”
We all paid attention to our caviar and champagne for a few moments, oohing and aahing. Why had I been convinced I wouldn’t care for caviar? Steve came by and refilled our glasses, and we toasted everything from the band to Scoop cars.
Like they were performing a perfectly rehearsed dance, the waitstaff delivered plates of a mixed vegetable salad with an olive-caper vinaigrette, fresh glasses, and a bottle of Pinot Grigio, which Adam left on the table in case we wanted more after he filled our glasses. Next came a South Indian fish in a curry sauce with a Riesling, followed by the best crab cake I’d ever put in my mouth and a bottle of a friendly, fruity Spanish white wine, the name of which I couldn’t pronounce. We were into the fifth course—halibut with brown butter and a Russian River Valley Chardonnay—and had asked so many questions about Mo and Jim’s activities since Friday that I was beginning to fear they felt like they were being interviewed.
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