Steeped in Evil (A Tea Shop Mystery)

by Childs, Laura

  “Different,” muttered Drayton.

  “When I barrel tested this wine,” said Georgette, “I picked up some lovely hints of cinnamon and pomegranate. And I can’t wait to hear your learned opinions. So please . . . raise your glasses and enjoy!”

  Theodosia sipped gently. While she couldn’t quite place the pomegranate, she did detect a wonderful, creamy nectarine flavor. “It’s awfully good,” she told Drayton.

  “Unusual,” said Drayton. “But you’re right, it’s really quite good.”

  • • •

  An hour later, after a few friends were greeted, more wine was imbibed, and some honey-barbecued ribs consumed, Theodosia and Drayton headed for the parking lot.

  “All in all an enjoyable evening,” said Drayton as they strolled through a garden gate beneath a wooden trellis that hung heavy with swirls of purple Clematis.

  “It was nice,” said Theodosia.

  The gravel parking lot, just a few steps ahead of them, was now practically half empty. The evening had drawn to a close, people had left. Still there were a heroic number of Lexus, Audi, and Mercedes automobiles left in the lot.

  “Take a look at all the high-end cars,” said Theodosia. “Georgette surely knows the right people to invite.”

  “Maybe even more than Jordan did,” said Drayton. “Besides, people who drive luxury cars are not exactly the type who buy three-dollar wine at Trader Joe’s.”

  “Maybe that’s the key to Georgette’s success,” said Theodosia. “Knowing the right people.”

  “I suppose it never hurts,” said Drayton.

  “Or maybe she prices her wine higher,” said Theodosia.

  As they climbed into the Jeep, Theodosia wished that Max had been able to join them. Oh well, some other time. This week he had his hands full with the Paint and Palette Art Crawl and, of course, the Art Crawl Ball. And from all indications, the Art Crawl had been wildly successful thus far.

  Off to her left, an engine roared to life, throaty and rumbling, breaking up the subtle night music of the crickets and tree frogs. A loud voice shouted out as the engine revved louder. Then tires spun wildly in the gravel and Theodosia heard little bits of gravel tick-ticking and pelting against the nearby cars, like a hail of buckshot.

  Suddenly, a red sports car burst past her, swerving madly as its tires struggled for purchase in the loose gravel. More cars were pelted with gravel and a tiny rock pinged off her own windshield.

  “Silly hot dogger,” Drayton muttered.

  But Theodosia had caught sight of the car just as it shot off into the darkness. It was a red Porsche! Just like Drew Knight’s car!

  “Did you see that?” she asked. “The car!”

  “Yes,” said Drayton. “A crazy person who probably drank too much wine. It’s a pity we didn’t catch his license plate number.”

  “That was a Porsche!” said Theodosia.

  Drayton gazed at her as they pulled away. “Yes?”

  “Drew Knight’s Porsche went missing. Remember? And Carl Van Deusen just mentioned that Drew had loaned him his car?”

  “Good heavens, you don’t think . . .”

  “I don’t know what to think.” Theodosia clutched the steering wheel as she rolled out of the parking lot and headed down the ribbon of road in the darkness. She thought about what Janet at Virtuoso Staffing had told her about Carl Van Deusen—that he’d been acting strangely that night at Knighthall. Was Van Deusen a drug user, too? Could he offer some insight into a possible drug deal that Drew had been involved in? Did he know who Drew’s dealer was? And could this drug dealer be the actual killer?

  Theodosia decided she definitely needed to have a one-on-one with Carl Van Deusen. And pretty darned soon.

  “Dark out here,” murmured Drayton. He’d been sitting quietly in the passenger seat not making a peep. “And getting foggy. Makes it difficult to see the road in spots.”

  “It is getting tricky,” said Theodosia. All around them the dark crept closer and closer, barely kept at bay by her halogen high beams. This was an area that had once been inhabited by rice plantations, back when Carolina gold had been the premier cash crop. So there were still plenty of old dams, swamps, hills, and twisting roads to be had.

  Theodosia tried to focus on her driving, not on problem solving. But as she climbed a slight rise, she caught sight of two bright lights coming up fast behind her. They crested a hill behind her, and then disappeared from view in her rearview mirror. Thirty seconds later, they were right behind her again. This time a little closer. She checked her speed and saw the needle hovering at sixty. Which meant the speed demon car behind her was flying along at perhaps seventy or eighty miles an hour.

  “What’s wrong?” Drayton asked, sensing something was amiss.

  “Just a crazy driver behind me. A speed demon.”

  “There’s somebody ahead of you, too,” he said.

  “I think it’s that Porsche that blew out of the parking lot just ahead of us. Maybe . . . Van Deusen.”

  “Maybe,” said Drayton. He turned his head. “That car behind you is coming up awfully fast.”

  “I see that,” said Theodosia as her heart skipped a little beat. Her instinct told her that the speed demon behind her wasn’t an intentional threat. Still, moving at such a super high speed, he was a hazard to anyone sharing this deserted stretch of road.

  “Goodness!” said Drayton, still glancing back over his shoulder. “Now he’s almost on top of us!”

  Theodosia didn’t need an announcement from Drayton to tell her that. The speed demon was a mere fifty yards behind her and closing at a very rapid rate.

  “I think he’s going to pass us,” said Theodosia. They were approaching a fairly steep hill and the solid yellow lines clearly marked a no-passing zone.

  That didn’t stop the speed demon car as it whipped past them, its overtaxed engine whining loudly.

  “Whoa!” said Drayton, gripping instinctively for a door handle.

  “It’s okay,” said Theodosia as they topped the hill. “He’s gone. He’s way past us now.” Theodosia tapped her brakes as they rolled down a gentle hill and boggy swampland stretched out on either side of them. “Gonna bug somebody else.”

  “Look!” said Drayton, pointing at the curving road ahead. “There he is. Gracious . . . I think he’s going to pass that other car, too!”

  “Pass that Porsche,” said Theodosia, peering ahead. “Yeah, looks like it.”

  But just as Theodosia’s nemesis rolled up alongside the Porsche, he jerked hard to the right and swerved directly into the Porsche, hitting it and sending it careening wildly.

  “Speed demon hit that car!” Theodosia yelped. She could barely believe her eyes!

  There was a mad flashing of taillights and then a horrendous squealing of tires.

  “Did you see that?” Theodosia cried. “Swerved right into him!”

  The car that had been hit was fishtailing wildly, its rear end shaking like crazy as it struggled to hold the road. It seemed to hover for a moment, trying hard to regain traction, then it bounced up and seemed to lift right off the ground.

  Theodosia and Drayton watched helplessly as the stricken car torqued and spun sideways in the air. Then it flew off the right side of the road and tumbled, end over end, down a steep embankment.

  Meanwhile, the speed demon had disappeared down the road.

  “Dear lord!” Drayton shouted. “That car was run completely off the road! Right into the swamp, I think.”

  Theodosia jammed her foot down on the accelerator and roared toward the scene of the accident. Someone could be hurt. Someone had to be hurt!

  “Mercy me!” Drayton cried. “I do believe we just witnessed a hit-and-run!”

  20

  Theodosia raced down the highway, desperate to reach the hapless car that had been sideswiped and run into the swamp. Drayton was chattering away in the seat next to her, but she was barely paying attention to him. She was totally focused on reaching the scene of the acci
dent as fast as humanly possible.

  She wondered if the driver was dead, immobilized, or struggling to get out before his car was swallowed up by the dank water. Could it be Van Deusen who’d been driving that car? And if so, were there any passengers?

  Ten seconds later Theodosia rocked to a stop. Skid marks on the pavement told part of the story of the collision, but there was no sign of the car that had been hit. It had vanished like a specter in a fevered dream.

  “Where’s the car?” Drayton screamed. “The one that got hit and bounced all over the place?”

  Theodosia flipped her hazard lights on and flung open her door. “It’s in the water,” she said. “I’m pretty sure it landed in the swamp.”

  “So . . . what are we going to do?” cried Drayton. He stared at her in horror. “Oh no, you’re not going in after it, are you?”

  “Do you see anybody else around here?” asked Theodosia. She paused long enough to rummage in her handbag. “Here.” She grabbed her cell phone and pitched it to Drayton. “Get busy and call Sheriff Anson.”

  Drayton fumbled the phone in sudden panic. “I don’t know how! I don’t know the number.”

  “Just hit 911.”

  “Oh.”

  “And tell ’em to send help! Lots of help! And an ambulance!”

  Theodosia didn’t stick around to see if Drayton could manage. There simply wasn’t a moment to waste. She jumped from her car and stumbled down the slippery bank. Standing in a sea of reeds, up to her ankles in mud, she gazed out across the dark swamp and quickly located the car. It was some fifteen feet out, sitting low in the water. She couldn’t see any lights or movement, but she was fairly sure it was the red Porsche that she’d seen earlier.

  Had Carl Van Deusen been driving it? She was about to find out! If only she could . . .

  Above the swamp racket of frogs and crickets, there rose a terrible sucking, gurgling sound. As Theodosia scanned the boggy landscape again, she was stunned to see that the car was starting to settle.

  Oh no!

  Stepping into the water, thinking she might call out to the driver, Theodosia immediately sank to her waist in dark and brackish water. And as awful as that was, the cold was even worse. It chilled her to the bone, causing her breath to come out in ragged gasps. Because despite the omnipresent Carolina heat, the icy aquifers deep below these swamps kept them glacially cold all year round.

  Theodosia took a single step forward as the cold water began to insidiously suck at her energy. She felt her muscles contract and tighten in protest.

  “Hello!” she cried out. “Is anyone there? Can you hear me?”

  There was no answer, save the sound of a soft wind easing its way through the cattails and rushes.

  “Carl?” she called again. “Try to hang on! We’ve called for help!”

  She was about to turn back, to make sure that Drayton had called for a rescue squad, when the strange burbling sound erupted again. She peered through the dark and saw the car beginning to go nose down.

  Oh no! Now what do I do? What if it slides all the way under the water? Then . . .

  Theodosia took about one second to make up her mind, and then plunged headfirst into the water. Summers spent at Folly Beach had made her a strong swimmer and honed her freestyle crawl. She pulled hard and straight as her arms flew through the air then dug deep into the brackish water. Her legs moved rhythmically in a hard flutter kick. She swam as hard and fast as she could until she reached a tangled mass of roots and cattails that blocked her route to the half-submerged car. Gathering all her strength, she pulled herself over the top of the brush and then slid down the other side. From now on, she would have to walk or crawl.

  The mucky bottom sucked off both her shoes as she struggled to find some sort of foothold below the water. A root, a submerged tree stump, anything to help propel her forward. Green duckweed clung to her clothing and the water reeked of rotten eggs. And every step, every few inches forward through the swamp, sapped more and more of her energy.

  She caught her foot on a hidden root and pitched forward, catching herself on the upright trunk of a half-rotted cypress. She tried very hard not to think about alligators or snakes or anything else that could be lurking in this dark water.

  But she knew how alone she was out here.

  Drayton was back on the bank, of course, but he was so far away he’d never reach her in time if she foundered and went under. And did he even have the strength to save her? To swim out here? Probably not.

  That thought triggered another jolt of fear inside her.

  No, I can’t think that way! I can’t let the fear take over!

  Theodosia ground her teeth together and fought hard to fight her rising tide of panic.

  I can do this! I have to do this! There’s nobody else.

  A few more stumbled steps and half-swimming strokes brought her eye to eye with the half-submerged car. She rapped her knuckles against the driver’s side window and peered in.

  She was pretty sure it was Carl Van Deusen who was sitting in the driver’s seat. But he was slumped over the steering wheel like a rag doll—not moving or twitching a single muscle.

  Knocked out cold? Has to be.

  Theodosia batted her fists against the window, trying to rouse him. But Van Deusen remained unmoving and unhearing, collapsed over the wheel.

  “Carl!” she shouted. “Carl!”

  There was no response. More bubbles broke the surface as the nose of the car dipped farther and farther down. Now the water level was right at the bottom of the driver’s side window. It would only be a matter of minutes before the dank water seeped inside, flooding the car and drowning poor Van Deusen.

  “Carl!” Theodosia called out. “Wake up! Try to wake up, Carl! We have to get you out of there! This car’s going to sink!”

  She pawed at the side of the car, fighting to find the door handle, which was well below the water line. Her fingers flailed at the side of the door helplessly.

  Where is it? I can’t . . . ah, here it is.

  But the minute her fingers touched the door handle, the entire vehicle seemed to shift again and settle dangerously lower into the murky water.

  Theodosia flipped up the handle and fought to wrench the door open against the press of water. No luck. It wouldn’t budge!

  She placed one foot against the side of the car, grasped the handle again, and put her full weight behind it. “Come on!” she groaned as she pulled on the door, feeling the strain between her shoulder blades.

  With agonizing slowness, the door began to creak open. Theodosia grasped the door handle with both hands and gave a final heave. The door released suddenly and she splashed backward into the water. The world went silent and dark as she sank below the surface. Thrashing around, feeling frightened and helpless, her lungs starting to burn, she struggled to right herself. Then her head popped above the surface of the water and she breathed in blessed air.

  Without a moment’s hesitation, she was back at the car, crawling halfway inside.

  “Carl, come on!” She tugged at his shoulder, trying to rouse him. “We have to get you out of here!”

  But all Theodosia’s pushing and wrenching was upsetting the exquisite balance of the car. The continuous, ominous bubbling sound meant the car continued to settle even lower!

  She’d heard horror stories about quagmires like this that had no bottom, or were composed only of mushy mud or quicksand. She’d heard tales about how people and animals had fallen in, foundered, and been sucked down to their deaths.

  She knew she had to pull him out—now!

  Theodosia grabbed his collar and tried to pull him, but he was stuck tight.

  “Come on!” she yelled again, and now it felt like the car was free-floating, bobbing like a cork. How long would it stay just barely above the surface?

  She reached a hand down and cupped Van Deusen’s chin. If she could just keep his head above the water. Then she could at least save him from drowning!

  “T
heodosia!” came Drayton’s voice, calling from the road. It sounded faint and filled with worry.

  “I’m here!” she called back. “I’m okay!”

  “How’s the boy?” called Drayton.

  Theodosia looked at Carl. His face was pale, his lips were practically blue, and he was barely breathing. “Not good,” she called back as she gave a mighty shiver. “Not good at all.”

  • • •

  It felt like an eternity, but was probably only five or six minutes before sirens erupted down the road.

  “Someone’s coming,” Theodosia whispered to herself. She was cold and exhausted. It was taking her full concentration to keep her shaking hand from letting Carl’s head drop down into the icy water.

  She couldn’t hear any voices or much of anything else beyond the blood hammering in her head. Her heartbeat felt like it had slowed to a crawl and she felt herself growing drowsy. Somehow, in her subconscious mind, she knew she might be descending into hypothermia. But she couldn’t do anything about it.

  So tired . . .

  A loud splashing suddenly sounded in her ears.

  What?

  Something pinged inside her brain. Help?

  “Help!” she called out, suddenly rousing herself. “We’re over here!”

  There was more splashing and then a man’s voice called out, “We’re coming, almost there.” His words floated toward her, sounding calm and reassuring.

  Another loud splash sounded behind her. Now something was coming up under the water for her.

  What is it?

  Theodosia felt a large object bump heavily against her legs. Then something black and shiny erupted from the water. Suddenly, two divers in wet suits were staring at her, concern etched on both their faces. One grabbed her under the arms and gently pulled her out of the car. A second one slithered in and grabbed Carl.

  Gratefully, Theodosia allowed herself to be towed back to shore.

  • • •

  Theodosia accepted a blanket that was put around her shoulders by a kindly EMT, but she refused any other medical treatment.

  “Are you sure?” said Drayton. He was anxious beyond belief.