by Laura Childs
Delaine pretended to look shocked. “Killer? I thought Parker’s death had been deemed an accident. At least that’s what the newspapers reported.”
“Well, they were wrong.”
“But you do have confidence that the police will solve this crime, don’t you?”
Theodosia kept a placid look on her face, mostly to keep peace. “I’m sure they’re doing their best.”
“Of course they are, dear,” said Delaine. “Now please try to relax, will you?”
“Delaine,” said Theodosia, “I am relaxed. You’re the one whose eyes keep darting every which way.”
Delaine’s brittle façade suddenly collapsed and she gasped, “Frankly, Theo, I’m an absolute wreck. When I got involved with Dougan I had no idea how many ex-girlfriends the man had! It’s like a veritable minefield out there. Every time we go to a restaurant or theater, some woman pops out of the woodwork and starts prowling after him like some kind of hungry alley cat. I don’t know what to do!”
“Only one thing to do,” said Theodosia.
Delaine gazed at Theodosia in desperation. “What’s that?”
“I’m paraphrasing Beyonce’s song ‘Single Ladies,’ but if he likes it he oughta put a ring on it.”
“Yes!” Delaine shrilled. “You’re probably right!”
“You two get along beautifully,” said Theodosia. “In fact, you’re pretty much two of a kind.” Were they ever!
“We are!” Delaine agreed. “Pooh Bear and I are soul mates of the first magnitude!”
“If that’s the case,” said Theodosia, “maybe you and Pooh Bear should think about taking the next step.”
“That’s an awfully big step,” said Delaine. She looked suddenly thoughtful.
“Entirely up to you,” said Theodosia.
“Yes, it is,” said Delaine.
“But like you said. There are ex-girlfriends everywhere…”
“To say nothing of all the potential girlfriends lurking in the wings!” Delaine groused. “Just waiting to jump out and dig their sharp little talons into him!”
“Think about it,” said Theodosia. “You might have to strike while the iron is hot.”
Making a quick trip back to the tea table, Theodosia encountered a tight cluster of men that she wouldn’t have imagined in her wildest dreams.
Lyle Manship and David Sedakis were standing there, chatting very matter-of-factly with Timothy Neville.
Why are they here? was Theodosia’s first thought. And then, a half heartbeat later, she knew exactly why. Manship had attended the Coffee & Tea Expo and, thus, had wandered over with the group. And Sedakis was a board member with the Heritage Society.
Timothy spotted her immediately and extended a warm invitation to join them. “Theodosia,” he said, sounding hale and hearty for such a small, elderly man, “come chat with us. I trust you know everyone?”
“Yes, I do,” she said, sidling up to the group.
“A charming demonstration,” said Manship, giving his barracuda’s smile. He was dressed in a black jacket with a mandarin collar, which made him look like he’d just stepped out of a bad Steven Seagal movie.
“And you’re wearing such a lovely kimono,” said Sedakis. His eyes burned into her and, for an instant, Theodosia wondered if Dougan Granville had already confronted him. Maybe. Hopefully.
“Drayton did a fine presentation,” said Timothy. He seemed oblivious to the tension that ran like an electric current between Theodosia, Manship, and Sedakis.
“Drayton was very much in his element,” said Theodosia.
“He obviously likes to proselytize on tea,” Sedakis said in a dry tone.
“Nothing wrong with having keen interests,” said Theodosia. “But you’re aware that Drayton is extremely well-rounded in all his interests. After all, Mr. Sedakis, you serve as a board member with him here at the Heritage Society.”
“Indeed I do,” said Sedakis.
Theodosia pretended to look puzzled. “But now that you’re executive director at the Neptune Aquarium and are frightfully busy with administration as well as the new restaurant, I imagine you’ll pretty much have to throw your heart and head into all of that. Which will leave you stretched awfully thin.”
“That’s true,” said Timothy, suddenly paying closer attention.
“In fact,” said Theodosia, “I can’t imagine you’ll want to continue serving on this board.” She let a couple of beats go by, then said, “A halfhearted board member might not be so…welcome?”
“We should discuss this further,” said Timothy, holding up an index finger.
Theodosia didn’t often harbor unkind thoughts. But these two men, Manship and Sedakis, brought out the worst in her. Scum and scummer, that’s what they were. However their little arrangement had come about, it stank. Stank to high heaven.
Theodosia turned away from them and sped across the patio. And ended up walking right into the open arms of…
“Max!” Theodosia cried. “You’re back!”
Tall and broad shouldered, with a tousle of dark hair, Max wore a slightly sardonic grin as he wrapped his arms around Theodosia in an enormous bear hug and gave her a kiss.
“And just in the nick of time, it looks like. I was just in the kitchen looking for you and Haley told me some crazy story about bees attacking your Aunt Libby?”
“It was awful,” Theodosia said. She grabbed Max by the hand and led him over to a low stone bench. They sat down together, still holding hands, shoulders and knees touching and bumping.
“Tell me everything,” said Max. “Wait, you have to give me another kiss first.”
In the shadow of a grove of rustling bamboo, they shared a longer, lingering kiss.
“Worth the wait,” said Max, pulling away reluctantly. “Okay, now tell me everything.”
And so Theodosia gave him the 411 on getting run off the road that afternoon. And then the story about somebody, at least she thought it was somebody, stirring up the bees, and Aunt Libby getting stung, and theirheart-stopping ride to the hospital.
“This all didn’t just happen out of the blue,” said Max. “This isn’t cause, it’s effect.”
“Yes,” said Theodosia. “I suppose it is.”
“So I’m going to have to hear your whole week’s saga from the very beginning.”
“Okay.”
“But first I need to kiss you again,” said Max.
“Okay,” said Theodosia. No objections there!
They kissed, nuzzled, and then grinned at each other like a couple oflong-lost lovers who’d finally been reunited.
“I love your kimono,” said Max.
“Drayton’s idea.”
“Of course. And your hair is cute, too.”
“My idea,” said Theodosia.
“So…” said Max. But he seemed to be suddenly swaying, even as he sat there talking, and was fighting valiantly to keep his eyes open.
“You know what?” said Theodosia.
“What?” said Max, sounding more than a little groggy.
“You need to go home.”
“Aww…I just got here. Besides, I want to hear…”
“And get some sleep,” said Theodosia. “You’re dead on your feet and about to pass out.”
“Sweetheart,” he pleaded, but he still couldn’t stifle his yawn.
“See what I mean?” said Theodosia. “Too many planes, trains, and automobiles. Besides, I can rehash the whole thing with you tomorrow.” She gave a quirky grin. “It’ll give us something to talk about when you go along with me on round two of the scavenger hunt.”
“I see your boyfriend is finally back in town,” Delaine called in a singsong voice.
Theodosia turned and grinned at Delaine, who was standing there, her arm linked with Majel Carter’s. Both of them were grinning like devilish little co-conspirators.
“What are you two up to?” Theodosia asked. Probably watching Max and me kiss. Or else Delaine has been plotting wildly as to how she’s going to
capture Dougan.
Delaine said, with mock seriousness, “I’ve been telling secrets of the heart.” She held a finger to her lips but couldn’t stifle her own merry laughter.
“Has she ever!” agreed Majel.
Theodosia decided they both looked like proverbial Cheshire cats. Lots of that going around tonight.
“And I’m making big plans,” Delaine tittered, “that just might include my two favorite BFFs!”
“I think Delaine’s going to try to get Dougan Granville to marry her,” said Theodosia. They were driving through thepurple-black twilight down Archdale Street, Drayton riding in the passenger seat and three of his prized bonsai loaded in the way back of Theodosia’s Jeep.
“Are you aware your car smells like rotten eggs?” he said.
“Sorry about that,” said Theodosia. “It’s from when I got run off the road. Weker-plopped into some swamp water and I haven’t had a chance to run it through the car wash yet.” She paused. “Drayton, did you hear what I said?”
“About Delaine?”
“Yes, about Delaine.”
“That she might be getting married,” said Drayton. He picked an imaginary piece of lint off his black trousers. “Excuse me, but Delaine falls in love every six and a half minutes. She’s got the mating instincts of a tsetse fly.”
“That’s not very nice.” They rolled past Timothy Neville’s palatial mansion, where lights twinkled from a bay window, then drove under a spreading canopy of oaks that closed in on them like a verdant tunnel.
“Apologies then,” said Drayton. “It’s just that I’m…skeptical.”
“Skeptical that Delaine’s truly in love or skeptical that she’ll really get married?”
“Yes,” said Drayton. He shifted in the passenger seat. “But let’s get back to this afternoon. The story you tell is…upsetting to say the least.”
“It really happened,” said Theodosia.
“I never doubted you,” said Drayton, “though I thought it might be possible that you overreacted a touch. Especially since you had Aunt Libby aboard as passenger.”
Theodosia pulled to the curb in front of Drayton’s small house. It was a small cottage, even smaller than hers, that had once been occupied by a rather famous Civil War doctor. “Someone clearly ran us off the road. And then, at the apiary, someone disturbed the bees.”
They sat in the dark of Theodosia’s car, the engine ticking down.
Finally, Drayton said, “That’s it, then. You have to stop investigating.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Of course you can. It’s like deciding to stop eating bacon or some equally unhealthy food. Or forgoing candy for Lent. You simply…quit.”
“No,” said Theodosia. “I’m not a quitter.”
“Someone, I have no idea who, is feeling decidedly threatened by you.”
“And so they’re threatening me back,” said Theodosia.
“That’s right,” said Drayton. “Only they have the advantage of anonymity and stealth.”
Theodosia thought about this. Drayton was right, of course. She had no idea who she was dealing with. While someone, possibly even someone rather close to her, held all the cards. Or did they?
“You know what?” Theodosia said to Drayton.
“What?”
“Whoever is making trouble for me does have one huge disadvantage.”
“What’s that?” asked Drayton.
“They’re crazy.”
Theodosia did three things when she arrived home. First she kissed Earl Grey on the top of his furry head and put him out in the backyard for a final romp. Then she called Aunt Libby at the hospital and determined that she was just fine, had to get back to her movie, in fact. And then Theodosia brewed a cup of chamomile tea and sat down at her kitchen table to think.
Because that’s where the real dilemmas are hashed out in everyone’s life. There’s never a plush boardroom where critical data can be analyzed, there’s never a White House situation room where hundreds ofwell-trained operatives feed you up-to-the-moment information.
When your life is in crisis, or you’ve hit some horrible, personal roadblock, you plunk yourself down at the kitchen table and try to work it out. You lay out your cards, the hand you’ve been dealt, and try to puzzle out the answer.
Or, as Drayton had said, you figure your next move. Of course, even better would be to strike a final declaratory blow and win. Just like that. Checkmate.
So, Theodosia wondered, how do I win? How do I beat this guy—or this person (because it could be Peaches or even Shelby) at their own game?
The answer drifted back to her. I don’t know.
Theodosia shook her head. Not good enough. She knew she had to figure this out. Or at least inch ahead and gain some insight.
She bent over her tea, inhaled the sweet, almostgreen-apple scent, and willed her brain to edge forward and explore the various possibilities. To be logical, non-emotional, and, hopefully, very, very clever.
Okay, she thought, what was the first inkling I had that somebody might be dogging my footsteps?
Closing her eyes, Theodosia tried to picture the one point in time over the last couple of days when she’d first been aware of being shadowed. She thought hard, trying to flip through her relatively mundane activities as if they were a stack of picture postcards. There wasn’t anything.
Or was there?
Theodosia’s eyes peeped open.
What about the truck parked at the oyster shack last night? The one with the smoked windows and muffled music?
Had the driver of that truck been following her?
Could it have been the same truck that ran her off the road today?
She took a gulp of tea, set her cup down, jiggled her foot, and considered this.
Maybe.
But she knew it was a big maybe.
A scary maybe.
Theodosia gritted her teeth, mustering up a little inner fire. If somebody had been following her, who was it? And what did they want? Had they intended to harm her? Or just throw her off the track?
Or was something else going on? Something peripheral that she’d somehow gotten herself involved in? Somehow stumbled into?
This last notion gave her pause.
Had her picture taking triggered someone’s paranoia about something?
If so, what?
She pondered this for a few more minutes as she finished her tea. Then, when she heard theclick-click of toenails coming across the patio, she walked to the back door and let Earl Grey inside. As she was turning the lock, Theodosia decided to take a quick look through her photos.
She pulled her cell phone from her bag and scanned through the mini gallery.
There was the Hobie Cat, the art gallery, the Angel Oak tree, a moody photo of a trawler off the coast, and the Hot Fish Clam Shack. All prettygarden-variety stuff.
No, she didn’t think there was a thing here that would get anyone riled up. Not a doggone thing.
26
Aunt Libby was just fine this excellent Saturday morning. In fact, it practically took an act of Congress to get her to leave the hospital. She chatted with the orderlies, hugged the nurses, kissed asecond-year intern, and blew air kisses to the lady who’d delivered her breakfast.
“You’re sure Margaret Rose is going to be at Cane Ridge?” Theodosia asked.
“I just spoke with her ten minutes ago,” said Aunt Libby. “She’s there now, waiting for me. She’s got DVDs of Steel Magnolias and Sex and the City, so we’re going to have ourselves a movie marathon. Popcorn included.”
“You’re going to watch Sex and the City?”
Aunt Libby gave a sly grin. “That language doesn’t shock me.”
“Glad to hear it,” said Theodosia, “because it shocks the heck out of most people.”
“I’m not most people.”
“No,” said Theodosia, “you’re certainly not.”
They walked out the front door of the hospital to where Theodosia wa
sdouble-parked.
“Listen,” said Theodosia, who was having second thoughts about Aunt Libby’s health. “I can stay with you today if you want me to.”
“No,” said Aunt Libby, as Theodosia helped her into the passenger seat, “you’ve got your scavenger hunt.”
“I know,” said Theodosia, “but I can blow that off.” She leaned in and gave her aunt a gentle squeeze. “You’re much more important to me than some little contest.”
“But you said you were doing it for charity?”
“That’s right,” said Theodosia. “At-risk youth.”
“Then you have to do it,” said Aunt Libby. “Besides, you always finish what you start. That’s one of your endearing qualities.”
“You think?” said Theodosia. She felt like she had loose ends strewn all over the place.
“I know,” said Aunt Libby.
Exactly one hour later, Theodosia pulled into the circular drive behind the Gibbes Museum. She hit Max’s number on her speed dial and, thirty seconds later, he came bouncing out the back door. He lookedwell-rested, adorable, and strangely intense.
“Hello, sweetheart,” he said, settling into the passenger seat, “I take it you’re still investigating?”
Theodosia had pretty much figured that, after sleeping on the information she’d given him, Max would want to know every niggling little detail. And to sort of manage things and keep him from going completely postal, she’d run through a couple of diversionary answers in her mind. But in the end she felt compelled to simply tell the truth. “Yes. Yes, I am.”
Max digested this for a moment, then said, “Because you still care about him?”
“Parker was a friend, but it’s not what you think. There was no romantic entanglement, I can promise you that.” She reached over and took his hand. “That was all…in the past. Ancient history.”
“Good.” Max did a little more digesting, then said, “I kind of hate to ask this, but are you getting anywhere?”
Theodosia sighed deeply. “Not as far as I’d like. There have been a few problems.”
Max squeezed her hand, then seemed to relax. He leaned back and pulled his seat belt across. “We’ve got a couple hours of driving and picture taking ahead of us, so maybe you’d better tell me all about it.”