by Laura Childs
In a fast-moving blur of hot pink, Nadine, Delaine’s sister, suddenly appeared on the arm of a tall, good-looking man. The same man who’d accompanied her to the tea shop this afternoon.
“Who’s the guy?” Haley asked under her breath.
“No idea,” said Theodosia. “He was at the tea shop earlier today and, for some reason, Nadine chose not to introduce us.”
Haley nudged her with an elbow. “I’ll bet five bucks you can finagle your way around that.”
Theodosia grinned and decided it might be fun to try.
“Good evening, Nadine,” she called. “Looks like you and your friend are the first ones to arrive.”
Nadine tossed her head, her crystal earrings flashing and reflecting the color of her hot-pink dress. “Not quite,” she said. “We just spoke with Delaine as we came through. Along with a few of the organizers and the ushers or security people or whoever those rather large gentlemen are.”
“Then let’s just say you two are the first to tour the garden area tonight,” said Theodosia. “And enjoy our tea and treats.” She sidled closer to Nadine’s date and offered what she hoped was a winning smile. “Hello, I’m Theodosia Browning. You were in my tea shop this afternoon? I’m not sure we were ever properly introduced.”
“This is my fella,” Nadine blurted hastily. Even though she was draped possessively on the man’s arm, she snuggled even closer. “He’s quite the catch if I do say so myself.”
Theodosia continued to smile at Nadine’s date as she said, “How about if I pour you a cup of tea, er . . . ?” She gave an inquisitive cock of her head, a visual prompt for him to fill in his name.
But he never did. Or at least he never had a chance to.
“We’d adore some tea!” Nadine squealed. “And something to eat, too. We’ve been so busy running around that we pretty much breezed past dinner. Never did stop to eat.”
“Okay, then,” said Theodosia, giving up. “On second thought, maybe you should just help yourself.”
* * *
The evening unfolded rather magically. Guests drifted in, exclaiming over the house, the tea table, and, finally, the elegant gardens. Mostly, Theodosia hung out in the kitchen, ready to restock desserts or hustle outside with more tea.
“I think we might be running low on that spice tea,” said Haley, as she eased her way in through the butler’s pantry.
“Good thing I’ve got two more pots brewing,” said Theodosia.
“You know, it really is a madhouse out back. Tons of people are milling around and wandering through the garden.”
“I guess that’s why they call it a garden tour,” said Theodosia.
“Yeah . . . whatever,” said Haley. She began to unpack another basket stacked with plastic containers. “Oh, and that guy Allan Grumley is outside. He was looking for you.”
“Interesting,” said Theodosia. She grabbed her two pots of tea. “I’ll have to go see what he wants.”
Outside, Theodosia refilled the samovar and glanced around, on the lookout for Grumley.
She didn’t have to look far. He was standing on the patio some ten feet away from her talking to, of all people, Frank and Sarah Rattling. Not wanting to intrude but curious as to what they were talking about, Theodosia busied herself with straightening out one of the dessert trays while she cocked an ear toward their conversation.
“This really is a great house,” said Frank Rattling. “And in a far better location than we have now.”
What you had, Theodosia thought to herself. You don’t own Ravencrest Inn anymore. The owner foreclosed on you. With a little help from Dougan Granville, of course.
“And I took a peek in the kitchen!” Sarah Rattling rhapsodized. “So modern and spacious! What I couldn’t do in there. This place could be much more than just an inn, it could be an ultra luxe bed-and-breakfast.”
What? The Rattlings are talking to Allan Grumley about buying this place? Oh my goodness! Please no!
Theodosia hurried over to insinuate herself into the conversation.
“Excuse me. I didn’t mean to listen in,” she said to Frank Rattling. “But, am I right? You and your wife are thinking about buying this place?”
Rattling turned to her, an earnest look on his hawkish face. “It would be a dream come true. We’re head over heels in love with this house.”
“I didn’t think it was for sale,” said Theodosia. She focused her gaze on Grumley, who gave an offhand shrug.
“Never say never,” said Grumley.
“That’s right,” said Frank Rattling. “For the right price . . .”
Theodosia was amazed at Rattling’s bravado. He and his wife had been foreclosed on for not making monthly payments on Ravencrest Inn. Now they were talking about buying an even more expensive piece of property? Was this just big talk, or was it some kind of weird payback against Granville? Even though the man was dead.
Grumley aimed a finger at Frank Rattling. “Toss out a number,” he said, as he moved away. “You never know.”
“Are you two serious?” said Theodosia. Her heart was fluttering and she was on the verge of panic.
“Absolutely,” said Frank. “I get a feeling that, for the right price, Grumley really might be amenable to selling.”
And then you’d be my next-door neighbor, Theodosia thought to herself. Wouldn’t that be a funhouse chock-full of monkeys?
Theodosia forced herself to calm down. “I suppose it never hurts to float him a number.”
“We’re going to do just that,” said Sarah.
“Good luck,” Theodosia said without much enthusiasm. She knew in her heart that if the Rattlings put in a serious offer, she was going to have to consider moving. No way did she want them as neighbors. No way could she tolerate them as neighbors.
When she returned to the kitchen, Nadine and her boyfriend were fussing about, talking to Haley.
“All I need,” said Nadine, “is a scissors. I have this teensy little thread on the hem of my dress that’s driving me crazy. Tickles every time I move.”
Haley had pulled open a couple of cupboard drawers and was pawing through them. “I thought I saw a scissors here somewhere. Sorry. I’m just not used to this kitchen. I’m afraid I don’t know my way around here.”
“You really don’t, do you,” said Nadine.
Nadine’s boyfriend tugged at her arm. “Come on, I think there’s one in the drawer of that pine chest in the dining room.”
“Thank goodness, somebody who knows something,” said Nadine, as they hurried out.
“What’s the problem?” asked Theodosia. She was still distracted by the Rattlings’ big talk.
“Nothing,” said Haley. “Just Nadine drama. Kind of like Delaine drama only with a touch more sarcasm.”
“Nadine’s a real character.”
“Her guy seems nice enough, though,” said Haley. “Nicer than she is, anyway.”
“Nadine still hasn’t introduced him,” said Theodosia. “Somehow I find that strange.”
“I just chalk it up to bad manners,” said Haley.
Theodosia grabbed a cookie. “You’re probably right.”
“So did you find Grumley?”
“Yes, and he was talking to the Rattlings, who were tossing out innuendos about buying this place.”
“No way!” said Haley.
“I don’t think there would be a way,” said Theodosia. “Not with a conventional bank loan, anyway. If they couldn’t make the payments on Ravencrest Inn, I don’t see how they could get bank financing and trade up to this place.”
Haley digested this bit of information for a few moments, then said in a quiet voice, “Not unless they had a partner.”
Haley’s remark caught Theodosia completely off balance, causing her to practically choke on her cookie. “What do you mean?” she stammered. “Wh
at are you talking about?”
26
“Sorry,” said Haley. “I didn’t mean to get you all upset.”
“You didn’t,” said Theodosia. “Now tell me what you’re talking about.”
“You know,” said Haley. “Like a silent partner. That’s a fairly common business practice, wouldn’t you say?”
“Yes, I suppose it can be,” said Theodosia. “But I honestly don’t know who in their right mind would trust the Rattlings at this point, given their rather sour track record.”
“You never know,” Haley said with a sharp bark. “Maybe Allan Grumley would give them a deal in exchange for a piece of the action.”
“Haley!” Once again Theodosia was stunned. “You mean as an investor? Do you know something I don’t?”
Now it was Haley’s turn to look surprised. “No, of course not. I’m just saying . . .”
But like a grain of sand implanted in an unsuspecting oyster, Theodosia was suddenly turning this notion over and over in her mind. “What would be Grumley’s reason?” she asked.
Haley waved a hand. “No idea. It’s not based on anything concrete, I just kind of blurted it out.”
“Okay.”
“Mostly because of what you said about Frank and Sarah Rattling. How they sounded . . . kind of serious.”
Theodosia was still alarmed. “You really haven’t heard any gossip about this?”
“No, of course not,” said Haley. “If I had, you know I would’ve told you.” She gave Theodosia a look of concern, then said, “No offense, but I think you’re being a little paranoid.”
“I know I am.”
“Is it the prospect of having the Rattlings as your next-door neighbors?”
“In part,” said Theodosia. “But mostly because I trust Allan Grumley about as far as I can throw him.”
“He’s one of those cagey lawyers who’s slippery when dry,” said Haley. “Hey, did you ever think that Grumley might have plans to turn this place into some kind of fancy B and B by himself and that he’s just using the Rattlings? You know, pumping them for information and ideas. Do you think he’d do that?”
“I don’t think he’d hesitate to do that,” said Theodosia.
“Huh,” said Haley, snapping the lid off a plastic container. “I guess it takes all kinds.” Then, “Theo, I’m going to put out these sugar cookies. Do we have any more large trays?”
“Um . . . sure. If you need one, I can probably grab something from the dining room.”
“I need one.”
“Hang on, then,” said Theodosia. She pushed her way through the swinging door, still thinking about how Allan Grumley was now the owner of this house.
Gosh, I hope he doesn’t decide to move in here. That’s all I need. An idiot neighbor like him. And I don’t think Earl Grey would take kindly to him, either.
When Theodosia hit the living room, she was momentarily stunned. There were so many people queued up in line that she didn’t know how they’d ever accommodate them all. Still, she understood this was what the Summer Garden Tour was all about. Throwing open the doors to six of Charleston’s finest homes and inviting tourists and the local populace in for a look-see. And considering that the proceeds from ticket sales went to charity . . . well, it probably was a wonderful, worthwhile event.
Theodosia also saw that the two security guys were doing a masterful job. They were polite yet firm as they answered questions and kept the line moving. Even Delaine was doing her part, chatting with guests, shaking hands, and administering elaborate air kisses to a select few.
When Delaine saw Theodosia paused in the doorway, she hurried over to talk.
“This evening is a huge success!” Delaine chirped. “Hillary and Marianne just told me that we’re well on our way to having the largest attendance ever!”
“That’s great,” said Theodosia. She hesitated. “But do you think there’s also a curiosity factor involved? Owing to the fact that, you know, Granville was recently murdered?”
Delaine looked pained. “Well, it didn’t happen here! And, no, I absolutely do not believe that’s a factor. I think we’re a success because we did our jobs smashingly well. Really, Theo, you can be such a pessimist.”
“That’s funny, most people think I’m a realist.”
They wandered through the dining room together over to the pecan credenza.
“Haley wants to put out some more desserts, so we need another tray,” said Theodosia. She knelt down and pulled open the bottom cupboard. “I guess there’s a reason she made quadruple batches of everything.”
“Use whatever you want,” said Delaine. “I have a feeling some of this is going to end up being mine.”
As Theodosia slid out a heavy silver tray, she happened to glance downward. And her eye caught the flash of something gold. A strip of something curled up on the plush carpet, halfway under the cabinet.
She frowned. What was it? Something the cleaning crew had missed? Or something recently dropped or discarded?
“I don’t know if it’s worth keeping all this silver,” Delaine prattled on. “Although I thought there was more . . . still, silver’s at an all-time high right now.”
Balancing her tray on one edge, tuning out Delaine, Theodosia reached down and let her fingertips brush the object. It was a scrap of paper. Gold metallic paper. She scooped it up and stared at it carefully as her heart gave a sudden thump. It was a cigar band. She could just make out the word Alejandro.
What? Who was smoking a cigar in here?
Better yet, who had been rummaging around in the dining room, outside the boundaries of the cordoned-off area?
The answer clicked into her mind almost immediately.
Nadine and her boyfriend.
“Excuse me,” she said to Delaine, as she raced back into the kitchen.
* * *
“Oh, good,” said Haley, reaching a hand out. “You found a tray.”
“Haley,” said Theodosia, “when Nadine and her boyfriend were in here a couple of minutes ago, what were they doing?”
Haley, who’d grabbed the tray and was already arranging cookies and bars, didn’t look up. “Nothing much. Looking for a scissors. Gosh, these lemon bars turned out great if I do say so myself. There’s a reason all the top chefs use Meyer lemons.”
“That’s it?”
“Yeah, well, I never found a scissors, but Nadine’s boyfriend said there was probably one in that chest in the dining room. In one of the drawers.”
Theodosia stiffened. “Really.” How strange was that? Theodosia thought to herself. Nadine’s boyfriend knew exactly where to find a scissors. In a drawer. Yet, to her knowledge, the man had never set foot inside this house before tonight.
Or had he?
Theodosia fingered the cigar band and reread it. Alejandro. And underneath in smaller script, Primo Cubano. So, a Cuban cigar. She wondered if Nadine’s boyfriend had dropped this? She wondered if he knew his way around this house? And if so, how had he come by that knowledge?
Theodosia stood stock-still for a few moments, practically holding her breath. Was Nadine’s boyfriend the burglar from the other night? Could he be the same guy she’d chased down the alley?
At that exact moment, Delaine breezed into the kitchen. “Excuse me, ladies, but we need . . .” Delaine stopped midsentence and stared at Theodosia. “What on earth is wrong now, Theo? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”
Theodosia rolled the gold paper in the palm of her hand. “Do you know if Nadine’s boyfriend is a cigar smoker?”
Delaine leaned in and peered at her so closely her eyes practically crossed. “Why, yes,” she said finally. “Now that you mention it, I believe he is.”
Theodosia was faced with a dilemma. Should she spell out for Delaine the possibility that Nadine’s boyfriend might have ransacked this house two
nights ago? Or should she stay mum? She could be completely mistaken, of course. In which case Delaine would probably stomp off in a snit and never speak to her again.
Theodosia quickly made up her mind, deciding on a more oblique approach.
“Delaine, I know this is going to sound strange, but there’s a very real possibility your sister might be in danger.”
Delaine looked perplexed. “Whatever do you mean?”
“Do you know how Nadine met her boyfriend?”
Delaine shrugged. “Just . . . through mutual acquaintances. Friends.”
“Good friends?”
“Really, Theo, I don’t recall. And truth be told, you’re starting to scare me. Always being such an alarmist.”
“And you’re being evasive.”
Delaine reared back. “I don’t mean to be.”
“You know what?” said Theodosia. “I need to speak to Nadine. Right this minute.”
“Must you really?” huffed Delaine.
Theodosia slipped past her. “You’ll thank me later, Delaine!”
* * *
Rushing outside, Theodosia came up against a wall of people. The tea table was mobbed, every table and chair was occupied, the patio was filled with a jostle of guests, and the night was alive with the sound of laughter, conversation, the clink of teacups against china saucers, and the sweet swell of harp music.
So where was Nadine?
Theodosia’s eyes swept the patio, searching for Nadine in her hot-pink dress. And didn’t see her. Determined now, she dodged through the crowd, smiling brightly but inwardly feeling her tension ratchet up. She was still trying to figure out what role Nadine’s boyfriend might have played this past week. Had he been at the wedding? Had he ransacked Granville’s house? Was he the one who’d sent the note? If so, had this boyfriend, for whatever reason, murdered Dougan Granville?
In a panic now, Theodosia backed down one of the garden paths, hoping to get a more panoramic view of the gaggle of visitors. She scanned the crowd again, hoping to see Nadine. But, no, the woman was nowhere in sight.
Could Nadine have left? Could her boyfriend have lured her away from the group, cutting her out of the safety of the crowd like a wolf separating a lamb from the flock?