by Laura Childs
But, in the end, Tidwell didn’t quite share her enthusiasm. And, much to Theodosia’s consternation, he never once cried out, “Aha, Krebs is definitely the culprit!”
But Theodosia was dogged in her argument. “Krebs is the killer,” she said, pressing her point. “I just know it. I can feel it.”
Tidwell was polite, but neutral. “We’ll interrogate him,” Tidwell promised, “and see if we can connect the dots.”
“Please try very hard!” Theodosia begged.
Ten minutes later, half the guests had departed Aubergine and Peaches was nowhere to be found. A scattering of guests, the half that didn’t embarrass quite as easily, remained at their tables, eating and chatting about the strange events that had just taken place.
Unfortunately for Theodosia, Max was one of the guests who now had to take his leave. It was time for him to dash off to his donor’s dinner.
She walked him to the front door and gave him agood-bye kiss.
“I’m sorry about your friend,” said Max. “It really does sound like this Krebs guy was the killer.”
“I think so, too,” said Theodosia. “And thank you.”
“You’re very good at this amateur sleuthing thing,” said Max.
“I’m not so sure about that. This thing with Krebs kind of came zinging out of left field.”
“But now it’s over,” said Max.
Theodosia heaved a sigh of relief.
With his arms still wrapped possessively around her, Max said, “But please realize, Theo, we never have, like, a normal date.”
Theodosia’s eyelashes fluttered and she said, “Define normal.”
But Max was dead serious. “I’m talking about a calm, relaxing evening wherein state troopers don’t come crashing through the door to arrest someone.”
Theodosia thought for a moment. “Oh, I see. You want calm and sedate. Okay, how about two weeks ago when we attended that concert of chamber music?”
Max held up a finger. “That was an exception to the rule. But, generally, our encounters tend to be marked by chaos and arrest warrants.”
“Don’t you think it keeps things interesting?” asked Theodosia. She was teasing him now, trying to defuse the situation a little bit.
“Interesting, yes,” said Max. “Romantic, no.”
“Oops,” said Theodosia. She liked romantic. Romantic was good, especially where Max was concerned. “Then what can I do to get things back on a much more romantic keel?”
“Ah,” said Max, “I thought you’d never ask.” He grinned. “I have a simple request.”
“Name it,” said Theodosia.
“You, me, dinner at your house tomorrow night.”
“Done,” said Theodosia.
“But I’m not,” said Max. “Because there are going to be some conditions imposed.”
“Okay,” said Theodosia, wondering where this was leading.
Max focused his gaze on her. “There will be no writs, warrants, or arrests. There will be no intrusion by police officers or SWAT teams. There will be no handcuffs. There will be soft music and…” He suddenly relented and gave a crooked grin. “Well, on second thought, maybe the handcuff part is okay.”
“Max!” Theodosia squealed. “Really!”
By the time Theodosia fought her way back through the departing crowd, feeling pretty much like a salmon swimming upstream, Drayton was the only one left at their table.
“What happened to Delaine? And Dougan?”
“Gone,” said Drayton. “She and Granville bolted like a couple of frightened jackrabbits.”
Theodosia looked around the room. “Some people stayed.”
“Probably because they paid good money for all this fine seafood.” In her absence, Drayton had gone back to the raw bar and helped himself to a pile of crab claws and a ramekin of melted butter.
“I see this brouhaha didn’t put a curb on your appetite.”
“Not when I’m eating seafood,” said Drayton. He glanced left, then right, as if making sure he wouldn’t be heard. “Even if it is illegal.”
Theodosia plopped down in the chair next to him. “I don’t think I could eat a bite now,” she told him. “When I think about that horrible man murdering Parker, I feel sick to my stomach.”
“You really think Krebs killed him?”
She nodded. “I do. And I think it was over something as stupid as Parker giving him a warning or threatening to turn him in.”
Drayton put an arm across Theodosia’s shoulders and gave her a quick hug. “Poor dear. You’ve been so upset over this.”
“I don’t…” began Theodosia. Then she heard a faint tinkling in her purse. “Cell phone,” she said. Maybe it was Tidwell calling to tell her they’d sweated a confession out of Krebs? Or Krebs had suddenly confessed in a mighty purging of his soul.
But, no, it was Majel Carter. Sounding a little rattled.
“Theo? Theo!” cried Majel.
“Yes?” said Theodosia, sensing apprehension in Majel’s voice. “Sweetie, what’s wrong?”
Majel was practically beside herself. “You’re not going to believe this,” she said, a rising note of panic coloring her voice, “but your team is missing a photo! The City Charity organizers just called me!”
Oh no.
“My gosh, what is it?” asked Theodosia. She opened her purse and pawed through the contents, searching for the scavenger hunt list. But it wasn’t there.
“What was the item, Majel? What did I miss?”
“The front gate of Angel’s Rest!”
“Your summer camp?”
“Yes,” bawled Majel. “Out on Hopper Road.”
Ouch.
“Oh, my gosh, I guess I seriously screwed up,” said Theodosia. “I’m so sorry!”
“Is there any way you can still get to it?” Majel pleaded. “I mean, I know it’s late, but there’s ten thousand dollars at stake for Tuesday’s Child!”
“Don’t worry,” Theodosia assured her, “I’ll get the photo and send it in, okay?” She paused. “When’s the deadline?”
“Ten o’clock tonight,” said Majel.
Theodosia stole a quick glance at Drayton’s old Patek Phillipe. “I’m going to try my best,” said Theodosia. “So…don’t worry.”
“Theodosia,” said Majel, “you are a total dear!”
29
“You see?” said Drayton, “I said you had a kind soul and you do. This extra effort proves it.”
“I also have a scattered brain,” said Theodosia. “I can’t believe I missed one of the shots on the scavenger hunt list. The money shot, at that!”
They’d been driving a goodforty-five minutes and had just passed through the sleepy little town of Early Branch. It waspitch-dark now and quiet, no houses, no nothing in sight. Onlyblue-black flashes of woods and water, as they whipped by. Stands of alder and straggly pine and turgid little streams. Overhead, a thin sliver of moon shone down amid a faint scattering of stars.
“You’ve had a lot on your plate this past week.” Drayton smiled. “Besides oysters.”
“No, that’s your plate,” Theodosia told him, as she goosed her speed up to sixty, in a hurry to get to Angel’s Rest.
“Touché,” said Drayton.
“Thanks for coming with me,” said Theodosia.
“It was the least I could do,” said Drayton. “I figured you could use a little company tonight.” He hesitated. “I know how upset you’ve been. How upset you are.”
Theodosia gritted her teeth. “Krebs killed him, Drayton. Krebs pushed Parker into that fish tank and held him under water until he drowned.” Her hands gripped the steering wheel so hard her knuckles turned white. “That slimy Krebs was fishing and dredging where he wasn’t supposed to, probably taking out hundreds of thousands of dollars’ worth of illegal seafood. And Parker, God bless his honest soul, was somehow on to him.”
Drayton shook his head. “Another senseless murder for profit.”
“It’s not the first time, it won
’t be the last,” said Theodosia. “Today people kill for nothing. Sometimes for a few dollars. A pittance,” she spat out.
They drove along in silence for a good five minutes.
“But don’t you feel slightly vindicated?” Drayton asked. “Maybe even hopeful about Krebs being brought to justice?”
“Tidwell played his cards close to the vest,” said Theodosia, “but I’m fairly confident he’ll sweat a confession out of Krebs. Or get one of Krebs’s crew members to spill his guts. You know Krebs didn’t work his boat alone.”
“Good point,” said Drayton. “It had to be a fairly large operation. Certainly more than just one trawler.”
“And if the seafood was harvested in international waters or was transported interstate,” said Theodosia, “then I think the feds get involved, too.”
“One never wants to mess with federal agents,” said Drayton. “They’ve got thosesuper-security prisons with cameras and razor wire and concrete walls that are fifteen feet thick.”
“Don’t you love it?” said Theodosia. “Our tax dollars at work.”
They swung through a series of S-turns, and suddenly low swampland spread out on either side of them.
“I haven’t been out this way in a long time,” observed Drayton.
“I’m not sure I’ve ever been out this way,” said Theodosia.
“We’re a far enough piece from Charleston now,” said Drayton, “that’s for sure.”
Theodosia reached into the bin between the seats and grabbed her cell phone. “I entered our destination address, but it feels like we’re somehow off course.”
“You think?”
“No,” said Theodosia, “I’m still hopeful. But my confidence would be seriously boosted if I could find Hopper Road.”
“Could have been that last turn back there. We flew by it kind of fast.”
“Maybe,” said Theodosia. She eased off the accelerator and crept along a little slower, as they both stared ahead into the darkness.
“It does feel like we’re in the middle of nowhere,” said Drayton. “I haven’t seen a house or yard light for miles.”
“Just pristine wilderness out here,” said Theodosia. “Probably the perfect setting for a children’s camp.”
“Get the kids out of the big bad city,” said Drayton, “so they can marvel at God’s creations.”
“That’s a lovely, poetic thought,” said Theodosia. She suddenly perked up, said, “Whoa, wait a minute, there’s a signpost up ahead.”
“Easy, easy,” said Drayton.
Theodosia slowed to a crawl. “Ah, here it is. Hopper Road. Whew. Looks like we’re still on course.”
“So now what?”
Theodosia squinted at the green screen of her cell phone. “Directions say turn left.”
“Okay, then.”
They bumped off the blacktop road and down a gravel road.
“Definitely out in the boonies,” said Drayton.
“Pristine,” said Theodosia, as she swung around a curve and a pair of yellow eyes glinted at them from out of the darkness.
“What was that?” said Drayton, as they rumbled past.
“Not sure. Maybe a fox or raccoon? Something nocturnal.”
“What else is out here?”
“Deer, opossum, wild boar?” Theodosia smiled. “You were the one who said the kids could marvel at God’s creations.”
“I just didn’t think the creations would look so spooky at night,” said Drayton.
“It is spooky out here,” said Theodosia. “And this road is getting worse. Even the ruts have ruts.”
“Torturous,” said Drayton, reaching forward to brace his arms against the dashboard. “But we must be almost there.” He jumped slightly. “What did we just go by?”
“Relax,” said Theodosia, “you’re letting your imagination get the best of you.”
“I thought I saw…” Drayton began.
“There! Up ahead!” said Theodosia. They rounded a turn, overhanging branches and tall grasses swishing against the sides of the car.
“Thank goodness,” said Drayton.
Out of the gloom rose a pair of stone pillars and a rusted gate.
“Bingo,” said Theodosia, “I’m pretty sure this is it.”
Except it wasn’t. Not by a long shot.
Theodosia and Drayton sat staring at the crumbling stone pillars for a few moments, completely taken aback. Then Drayton said, in a squeaky, almost quavering voice. “This looks more like a cemetery.”
Theodosia frowned, trying to make sense of it, trying to figure out where they went wrong. “Yes, it does,” she said, slowly. “But…that can’t be right, can it?”
“It says Angel’s Rest,” said Drayton. He pointed toward the rusted iron gates that hung lopsidedly off their hinges. A twisted archway snaked across the top, with Gothic script that scrolled out ANGEL’S REST.
“I know what it says,” said Theodosia. But this place doesn’t jibe with what it’s supposed to be.” She drummed her fingers against the steering wheel, thinking. “Do you suppose there could be two places with the same name?”
Drayton hunched up his shoulders a notch. “It wouldn’t surprise me. After all, there are dozens of places named Indigo. Indigo Tea Shop, Indigo Gallery, Indigo Gardens Nursery.”
“I guess,” said Theodosia. Her frustration was building and she was feeling a little jittery. They were running out of time, after all. Ten o’clock was the deadline and she was nudging up hard against it.
In times of confusion, Drayton tended to resort to logic. He pulled a road map out of the glove box, unfolded it, turned it one way, then the other. “You’re positive you have the correct address?”
“I thought so.” Theodosia pushed back a hank of auburn hair. “But maybe I screwed up. I could have screwed up.” She patted her hair, which in the humidity seemed to be taking on a life of its own. Drat those frizzies.
“Maybe it was that asp thing. On your phone,” said Drayton.
“App,” said Theo. “It’s a driving directions app. I suppose it could be wrong.” Actually, just last week she’d been taken down a road that ended at the Cooper River.
“So now what?” asked Drayton.
“Not much choice,” said Theodosia. “I guess I have to check it out.”
Drayton looked askance. “You’re going in there?”
“Just for a quicklook-see,” said Theodosia. “Because there’s definitely something fishy going on.” She pushed open the driver’s-side door and was immediately struck by the thickness of the night air. It was so humid out here, surrounded by woods and water and swampland, you could almost knead the moist air with your fingers. “But you stay put, okay? Just stay in the car and sit tight.”
“You’ll get no argument from me,” said Drayton.
“But if anything weird should happen…” Theodosia glanced at the cemetery then back at him. “Come running.”
“What do you mean by weird?” asked Drayton. Now he didn’t just appear nervous, he was edging into unease.
“I don’t know,” said Theodosia. “If you hear horrible screams or I get kidnapped by zombies or something.”
“That’s nothing to jest about,” said Drayton.
“Relax,” said Theodosia. “I’ll be fine. Just one quick look.”
Theodosia may have sounded confident, but that confidence quickly eroded once she stepped through the gate and entered the cemetery. Ghostly tombstones, their names and dates long since melted into oblivion, lurched up frommoss-covered humps. Kudzu covered an old obelisk, and tilted gray tablets and weathered crosses were barely discernible in the thick underbrush. A trickle of fear ran down Theodosia’s spine. It looked like the kind of place where Freddy Krueger or Jason in his hockey mask would be right at home. No doubt about it, Angel’sRest—thecemetery—was spooky, unsettling, and deserted.
But it’s not a deserted cemetery, Theodosia told herself. It’s an abandoned cemetery.
That realization was en
ough to raise the tiny hairs on the back of her neck and chill her to the bone. Were there really such things as abandoned cemeteries where old graves were simply forgotten? Or was that only in spooky British movies? Or vampire movies?
But a film of ground fog was seeping in, rolling across tilting markers and vague humps like a living, squirming thing. And it would appear no one had brought flowers or tended these graves for a good many decades.
So, clearly, this place was abandoned!
Theodosia clenched her jaw and bounced on the balls of her feet, trying to dissipate her nervous energy. Now what? She was running out of time and tiny little spurts of adrenaline were being insinuated into her bloodstream, triggering even greater feelings of unease.
Standingstock-still in the middle of this overgrown graveyard, with Spanish moss hanging down like rotting cloth, Theodosia decided there was only one thing to do. Call Majel.
Luckily, Majel answered on the second ring.
“Hello?”
“Majel,” said Theodosia. “Thank goodness I got you.” And good reception, too. She drew a deep breath. “Believe it or not, I’m a little lost. I passed through Early Branch and made it as far as Hopper Road. I thought I’d ended up at Angel’s Rest, but the directions didn’t quite work out. So now…believe it or not…I’m standing in the middle of an old cemetery!”
“Oh, my gosh!” exclaimed Majel, “it sounds like you took a really wrong turn and came in the back way.”
“There’s a back way?” said Theodosia. Her voice sounded squeaky and small among the ghostly, moldering tombstones. “You mean there’s another road?”
“Absolutely,” said Majel, “Hopper Road also winds around to the front gate of our camp.”
“Oh dear,” said Theodosia. “That explains it. So I really did miss a turn.” Her front teeth nibbled at her lower lip. “And the deadline’s in something like ten minutes!”
“Listen,” said Majel, “I’ve got an idea. If you’re not entirely creeped out, just continue walking straight through that old place. Go for like another sixty or seventy yards and you’ll come to a tall wooden fence…”
“Uh-huh,” said Theodosia, not liking the idea, but willing to go along with it.