Steeped in Evil (A Tea Shop Mystery)

by Childs, Laura

  “Would you hire him?”

  Georgette’s eyes slid away from her just as the lights dimmed and a riff of music filled the air. And Theodosia realized that Georgette had indeed talked to Grady. In fact, Grady had probably confided to Georgette that she was the one looking into things. Okay, so a direct pipeline to Georgette. She’d have to be a little careful here.

  “Grady’s a good manager,” Georgette said as she leafed nonchalantly through her program. “He understands viticulture inside and out. I could probably find a place for him at Oak Hill.”

  Sudden applause drowned out anything more Georgette had to say. Then a spotlight flicked on, the music dipped low, and Delaine walked out onto the runway. She paused in the bright circle of light, looked around, and put a microphone up to her mouth.

  “Friends,” Delaine began, “I’m absolute thrilled that so many of you turned out for my annual Clothes Horse Races. As you know, many of your favorite designers have donated some amazing fall preview items for you to appreciate and bid on. So enjoy the show, pick out a few garments, and please be generous. All of the money earned here today will go to the Loving Paws Animal Shelter. So remember, there are sweet dogs and kitties who are counting on you!”

  With that, the room went dark. The crowd seemed to hold its collective breath until the music crashed on and the lights came on. They were colorful and incredibly bright, focused directly on the Mylar runway. The music was the DJ’s mash-up of Marilyn Manson’s version of “You’re So Vain” and Beyoncé’s “Run the World.”

  And then the dizzying parade of models began. The first few models wore filmy, flimsy cottons and silks, the kind of flowing slacks and dresses that you could enjoy and wear right now. Then the show segued into a more autumnal theme, with gilded jackets, skintight pants, flowing skirts, and lightweight suede. The models pranced their way down the runway like Tennessee walking horses, lifting their knees unnaturally high as they remained aloof and unsmiling.

  The next grouping of fashion featured evening wear. Black lace gowns, burgundy and dark green dresses, and even some smoking jackets, all worn with multiple strands of beads and opera-length pearls.

  To Theodosia’s eyes, the fashion show was glitzy, high-energy, and fast-paced. Lots of expensive clothes showed off to perfection by a bevy of attractive, underfed young women.

  “Will you look at that ruffled cocktail dress,” said Georgette. “Really amazing.”

  Theodosia turned her attention to the waves of blue ruffles that made up the short flouncy skirt, and then was stunned beyond belief when her eyes traveled upward and she suddenly recognized the model! It was Tanya Woodson. Drew’s girlfriend. Or ex-girlfriend, as matters now stood.

  Sitting through the rest of the show was difficult for Theodosia. She squirmed and fidgeted, thinking about how strange it was to run into Georgette Kroft and then to see Tanya walking the runway!

  When the show came to its grand conclusion, lights blazing and music blasting, all the models came back out and took their final walk down the runway and back. Then Delaine reappeared to make a final plea. She was carrying a little white dog with a curly coat and shiny oil spot eyes.

  “Please,” she said, holding the wiggling little dog up for the crowd to see, “fall in love with some of the amazing pieces you’ve just seen here and fall in love with this little guy, too. Then dig deep into your pocketbook and buy. And remember, every penny goes to charity!”

  “I just have to have that ruffled cocktail dress,” Georgette enthused as she jumped to her feet. “What about you, Theodosia? Did you pick out a few things that you just have to have?”

  “Absolutely,” said Theodosia, though she really hadn’t. She had one eye trained on the runway, watching the models—Tanya in particular—and saw that they were all now carrying little order sheets. Instructed, no doubt, by Delaine to circulate through the crowds, which were surging back toward the champagne bar and all the racks of clothes.

  “In fact, I’m going to put my order in right now,” said Theodosia.

  “You go, girl,” said Georgette.

  Theodosia jumped up on the runway, ran to the end of it, and jumped down, pretty much heading off the surging crowd. “Tanya! Tanya!” she called after the waiflike model.

  Tanya heard her name called, glanced around, and saw Theodosia. A frown flickered across her face. Not anger, just annoyance. As if Theodosia were a pesky mosquito buzzing about her head.

  “What?” Tanya mouthed.

  Theodosia continued to push her way through the crowd until she was face-to-face with Tanya. Well, at least face-to-collarbone, since the girl was so doggone tall.

  “I need to talk to you,” said Theodosia.

  “Now what’s your problem?” said a petulant Tanya. “Look, I really can’t talk right now. I’m supposed to be working, can’t you see that?”

  But Theodosia wasn’t about to take no for an answer. “This won’t take long. I just need to ask you a couple of questions.”

  Tanya’s mouth twisted into an unhappy pout. “What?”

  “What does green alien mean to you?”

  Tanya’s eyes widened slightly, but she kept her calm. “I have no idea.”

  “Think hard.”

  “It’s means nothing to me!”

  “Think harder.”

  Tanya started to turn away.

  “Had Drew been using drugs?” Theodosia asked.

  Tanya hesitated, and then turned back. Her face had the harried, frightened look of a trapped animal.

  “He was, wasn’t he?” said Theodosia. Then, before Tanya could say anything, she added, “It must have been heartbreaking for you. I know you loved him very much.”

  Now tears sparkled in Tanya’s eyes. “Drew tried to . . . managed to . . . clean up in treatment. But then he . . . stumbled.”

  “Drew started using again?”

  Tanya gave an imperceptible nod. “I loved Drew, but he was struggling. He went through drug treatment two separate times.”

  “Recently?” said Theodosia.

  Tanya nodded again.

  “Do you think he was using drugs last Sunday? The day he was . . . um, the day he died?”

  “I don’t know, maybe.”

  “You lived with him,” said Theodosia. “So you must have known if he was still using.”

  “He . . .”

  “Excuse me!” said Delaine. “Theodosia, you haven’t bid on a single item of clothing yet. And you . . .” She turned blazing eyes on Tanya. “You need to circulate, young lady, and help hustle up some serious sales. I know someone’s going to want to purchase that lovely cocktail dress you’re wearing!”

  Theodosia watched as Tanya eased away from them and melted into the crowd. A smile was pasted back on her face but she still looked achingly sad. As if she’d lost the love of her life. Which she probably had.

  And who had been responsible? Theodosia wondered. A disgruntled drug dealer who hadn’t been paid? Or something a whole lot more sinister?

  “Theo!” said Delaine, a reprimanding tone in her voice. “Are you even looking at the clothes? Have you even heard a word I said?”

  “I like the dress you’re wearing,” Theodosia blurted out. She figured she had to say something.

  “You do?” Delaine squealed. “That’s fantastic. In fact, it might be the perfect dress for you to wear to the Art Crawl Ball this Saturday night! Of course, I’m wearing a sample size, while you’re . . . shall we say a size or two larger.”

  “Thanks a lot,” said Theodosia. Just because she ate carbs and didn’t starve herself with juice fasts and master cleanses . . . well, she didn’t need to be pilloried for it!

  “But you are so in luck!” Delaine simpered. “I have that dress in another size and I’m positive it will fit you perfectly. Of course, I can’t go rummaging through my inventory right now, dear, because my guests are still here and my poor head is buzzing with a hundred different things that I simply must do. But I promise I’ll find your gown and d
rop it by your house tonight.”

  • • •

  “Theodosia.” Theodosia was trying to make her escape, but now Georgette was at her elbow. “I was wondering . . . I’m having a small wine-tasting party Thursday night at Oak Hill and I was thinking you might like to attend.”

  “Really?” Theodosia was completely taken aback. This invitation had come zooming out of left field. After all, they’d only met.

  “Yes, really,” said Georgette. “You seem like a very nice person. And I’d like you to come to an understanding that I am, too.” She smiled broadly. “Besides, I have an ulterior motive.”

  “What’s that?” Theodosia couldn’t imagine what it could be.

  Georgette’s eyes danced with mirth. “One of these days perhaps you and I could put our heads together and plan some sort of joint tea and wine tasting.” She hesitated. “Tea and wine. Twine.”

  “Twine,” said Theodosia. “That’s an interesting idea.” She wasn’t sure it was, but she figured she owed Georgette a polite response.

  “Then you’ll come?” asked Georgette.

  “Sure. I’d like to very much.”

  “Bring a friend if you want. A date, a plus one, or whatever people are calling it these days. Of course, my wine tasting won’t be as fancy-shmancy as the one at Knighthall. Just a few friends and neighbors drinking wine and enjoying some barbecued chicken and ribs. No beautiful people, no paparazzi.”

  And hopefully no murder, Theodosia thought to herself.

  • • •

  After retrieving her car from the valet, Theodosia drove back to the Indigo Tea Shop, dodging down a few back alleys, trying to avoid the late afternoon traffic. When she arrived, she was pleased to find that Drayton was still there. He was wearing a long black apron and wielding a broom, poking at an insignificant amount of crumbs under one of the tables. When he heard her come in through the back, he stopped his cleaning, and looked a little startled.

  “You’re back,” he said.

  “Yes, I am,” Theodosia told him breathlessly. “Because I have news. News with a capital N!”

  “What’s up?” said Drayton.

  Theodosia tossed her bag onto one of the bare tables. “Number one, your good friend Jordan Knight failed to disclose some critical information about his son.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  She kicked off her shoes. “Drew Knight did a stint in spin dry.”

  Drayton’s face went completely blank. “What on earth is that supposed to mean?”

  “Translation,” said Theodosia. “Drew went through drug treatment. In fact, he scooted through twice.”

  Drayton’s brows shot up. “Seriously? Just recently?”

  “I got the impression that . . . yes. That his last stint in rehab was fairly recent.”

  Drayton looked stunned. “I had no idea. How on earth did you find this out?”

  “Tanya the stick woman told me.”

  “The model?”

  “Yup,” said Theodosia. She was more than a little worked up now. “She was one of the models at Delaine’s show today. And you know what else? Haley found out that green alien is slang for heroin.”

  “Seriously?” said Drayton. He looked dumbfounded.

  “Anyway, the crux of the matter is, Jordan and Pandora haven’t been giving us all the facts. How on earth are we supposed to solve this murder if we don’t have all the facts!”

  “Well, we technically weren’t supposed to solve it,” Drayton said slowly.

  But Theodosia was on a tear. “Hear me out, please, because I’ve been noodling this around.” She rose up on her toes and came down. “What if Drew’s murder had nothing at all to do with Pandora or Jordan or their silly winery? Or even the golf course people or Georgette Kroft at Oak Hill? What if Drew was killed because a drug deal went bad?”

  Drayton cocked his head at her. “How so?”

  “What if Drew absconded with some drugs or stiffed his dealer or something like that? And then the drug dealer wanted to, had to, kill Drew to make an example of him!”

  Drayton stared at her. “That sounds utterly preposterous.”

  “No,” said Theodosia, shaking her head. “It sounds like reality. Sadly, that’s how the world operates these days. That’s the kind of story that’s blasted at us in newspaper and TV headlines all the time!”

  Drayton leaned his broom against a chair and faced her, sadness evident on his face. “You’re telling me I live in the bubble of this perfect little tea shop and don’t always consider that real evil can intrude.”

  “None of us want to think about it intruding,” said Theodosia. “Because it’s always painful. But now, knowing what we do . . .” She shrugged. “Really, Drew’s death . . . it could be as simple as that. As stupid as that.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” said Drayton. He was slowly coming around to her way of thinking.

  “So the important thing,” Theodosia continued, “is to get Jordan and Pandora to really truly level with us. That’s if they still want our help.”

  “I think they do,” said Drayton. “No . . . I know they do. Jordan called me a couple of hours ago, right after you left. He was in agony—I could hear it in his voice.”

  “What did he want?”

  “I think he mostly wanted to talk, to hear a friendly voice. Of course, we were busy and I was barely able to give him two minutes. But I did ask him about the golf course people. And interestingly enough, it turns out that I know one of them.”

  “Who is that?”

  “Donny Hedges.”

  Theodosia thought for a moment. “I think Jordan might have mentioned that name to me when I was out there yesterday.”

  “Well, I’m acquainted with Hedges because he used to serve on the board of directors at the Opera Society.”

  “Do you know Hedges well enough to go talk to him?”

  “I think I do. Although he might not be very happy when he finds out why we’re there.”

  “Still,” said Theodosia, “if we’re going to be thorough, we should go see him.”

  “Maybe we could drive out to Plantation Wilds tomorrow afternoon, after we finish with the Downton Abbey tea. Miss Dimple will be here helping out, so she can stick around for the cleanup, too. Yes, I think we have to talk to Hedges, if only to clear our mind.”

  “Or clear him as a suspect,” said Theodosia. “Okay, I’ve also got a kind of surprise invitation for you.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I ran into Georgette Kroft today at Delaine’s show. And Georgette invited me to her wine-tasting party Thursday night at Oak Hill.”

  Surprise lit Drayton’s face. “No! Just like that?”

  “No, not just like that,” said Theodosia. “First we circled each other like a pair of Komodo dragons ready to snap each other’s heads off, then we decided to make nice.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Actually, it wasn’t all that dramatic. But strangely enough, I found Georgette to be a rather reasonable and respectable person. Which is another reason why I think we should accept her invitation.”

  “You don’t think she’s a killer?”

  Theodosia hesitated. “I suppose there’s an outside chance. I mean . . . nothing about this case is crystal clear.”

  Drayton swiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “Going to Oak Hill and snooping around really could be construed as part of our investigation, don’t you think?”

  “It really could,” agreed Theodosia. “Along with drinking wine.”

  “In that case,” said Drayton, “I think we should go.”

  10

  Theodosia loved her little cottage. When she approached it from the street, the gabled roof, cobblestone walk, and tumble of ivy always set her heart to racing. When she was cozied up inside, her heart slowed to a warm and satisfied pitty-pat.

  The living room featured a rustic beamed ceiling, polished parquet floor, and brick fireplace set into a wall of beveled cypress panels. Tuc
ked around a small coffee table, her chintz sofa and damask chairs made for a cozy seating arrangement. In the small but adequate foyer, hunter green walls were hung with antique brass sconces and the floor was red brick.

  Her kitchen, however, left something to be desired. The appliances were old but adequate, the linoleum floor not so good, and the cabinets just plain awful. Unfortunately, the kitchen wasn’t something that could be corrected piece by piece. Two general contractors had told her that the kitchen renovations should really be done in one fell swoop and she believed them. Max was of the same opinion, so there you go.

  Still, as Theodosia sat at her kitchen table, picking through a stack of photos, thinking about creating a couple of scrapbook pages of past themed teas, the overall feeling in the kitchen was one of hominess and comfort. Her collection of teapots helped foster that impression, of course, as well as her perfect little kitchen table. She’d found it in an antique shop over in Goose Creek. A lovely traditional-style mahogany table that had some real age on it. She’d teamed it with a pair of Hepplewhite chairs that still needed refinishing. Of course, the grandness of the ensemble was tempered somewhat by the presence of Earl Grey’s enormous dog bed stuffed beneath it. Still, it was his house, too. So what could you do?

  Bang, bang, bang!

  Earl Grey stuck his head out from what he considered his dog cave and gazed up at her. He wanted to know who on earth was banging away at their back door. Should he get up and woof, do his homeland security routine, or just stay curled up and chill?

  “It’s Delaine,” Theodosia told him. “She said she’d drop by tonight with my evening gown.”

  Bang, bang, bang!

  “Yup, that’s definitely Delaine,” Theodosia said again. Always impatient, always in an all-fired hurry. She decided she’d better let Delaine in before she tried to bundle up her gown and stuff it through the dog door.

  Theodosia hurried to her back door and pulled it open.

  “Good heavens!” cried Delaine. “What on earth are you doing cooped up inside your house on a gorgeous night like this? Do you know there’s going to be a full moon tonight? Really, you should be outside on the patio enjoying the soft twilight and your lovely garden.”