by Laura Childs
“Thank you, Mrs. Finster,” said Theodosia. “I really appreciate your calling.”
Theodosia replaced the receiver in the cradle and glanced at the door. Drayton was shepherding his tea-tasting ladies outside, bidding them farewell. Theodosia tried to stifle the rising tide of anxiety inside her. She knew Drayton’s good-byes were always prolonged.
When he finally approached the counter a good five minutes later, she beckoned him to follow her into her office.
“Drayton.” She closed the door softly. “I fear I’ve made a terrible mistake.”
“What is it?” he said, instantly concerned.
“With Tanner Joseph.”
His face had started to mirror her anxiety, but now it relaxed. “Oh, no, the labels are going to be perfect,” he reassured her. “True, they are a trifle beyond the realm of traditional, but that’s what makes them so charming. They’re—” Drayton stopped midsentence and peered at Theodosia. Amazingly, he had detected a quiver to her lower lip, and her eyes seemed to sparkle a little too brightly. Could those be tears threatening to spill down her cheeks? He couldn’t remember ever having seen Theodosia quite this upset. She was always so strong, so spunky.
“You weren’t referring to the labels, were you?” Drayton asked.
Theodosia pursed her lips and shook her head. “No,” she said hoarsely, finally getting her emotions under control.
He pulled out her desk chair. “Sit, please.”
She did, and Drayton sat on the edge of her desk, facing her. “Now tell me,” he said quietly. She looked up at him, worry clouding her blue eyes.
“Drayton, Tanner Joseph is hiding something. Every time Hughes Barron’s name is mentioned, he gets this hard, calculating look.”
Drayton stared at her for a moment and stroked a hand across his chin. “I thought you were casting your suspicions toward Timothy Neville. Or Hughes Barron’s awful partner. What was his name again?”
“Lleveret Dante. Yes, I have been,” Theodosia said. “But that was before Tanner Joseph reacted so oddly.”
“Oddly like a murderer?”
“I’m not sure,” answered Theodosia. “But my main concern right now is with Bethany.”
“She went out with him,” Drayton said, suddenly catching on to why Theodosia seemed so upset.
“Yes, she did,” said Theodosia.
“Then let’s talk to her,” Drayton urged. “See if we really do have something to fret over.” He rose from the desk, moved swiftly to the door, and opened it. “Bethany,” he called.
Haley appeared in the doorway. “We just sold two of those Hobbs teakettles, isn’t that a scream? Two of them!” she announced delightedly. “One stainless steel, one millennium style.” She paused, staring at the grim faces on Drayton and Theodosia. “What’s wrong?”
“Everything,” snapped Drayton.
“For gosh sakes, Drayton, lighten up a little,” said Haley. She smiled brightly at Theodosia. “Hey, don’t quote me on this, but I think business is turning around.”
“We’re not pulling our hair out over business,” said Theodosia. “It’s about Bethany. And Tanner Joseph.”
“Oh,” said Haley. She frowned quizzically and stared at the two of them.
“Theodosia thinks there’s something a trifle off about Tanner Joseph,” said Drayton.
“More than a trifle, Drayton,” interjected Theodosia.
“In particular,” said Drayton, “his attitude toward the late Mr. Hughes Barron.”
Haley sobered immediately. “I think Bethany really likes that guy Tanner.”
“What time is it?” asked Theodosia.
Drayton consulted his wristwatch. “Four-twen... four-thirty.”
“Let’s close early,” suggested Theodosia. “Haley, would you latch the front door? And send Bethany back.”
Haley glanced from one to the other, knowing something was up. “Sure.”
Bethany had gathered her notes from her earlier brainstorming session on the teddy bear tea, fully prepared to present what she thought were some fun, innovative ideas. But the moment she set foot inside Theodosia’s office, she knew the conversation was going to be a serious one.
“We want to ask you a few questions, Bethany,” Theodosia began.
“Okay,” said Bethany. She awkwardly shifted from one foot to the other.
“Do you want to sit down?” offered Theodosia.
“I’m fine.” Bethany tilted her chin up, preparing for whatever was about to come her way.
Theodosia fumbled about, trying to figure out just where to start. Finally she plunged right in. “When you were with Tanner Joseph the other night, did he ask questions about Hughes Barron’s death?”
“Not exactly,” said Bethany slowly. “I mean, Tanner was already aware Hughes Barron had died. And we did sort of chat about it, but I think he could see it made me uncomfortable.”
Bethany’s eyes sought out Theodosia’s and silently appealed to her. See, her eyes pleaded, this makes me uncomfortable, too. This makes me relive that terrible night.
“Did Tanner Joseph ask probing questions?” asked Drayton.
Bethany frowned. “No. At least they didn’t feel probing. We talked, that’s pretty much it.” She stared unhappily at the two of them. “What is this really about?”
“We think Tanner Joseph had a slightly unhealthy interest in Hughes Barron’s death,” said Theodosia.
“Theodosia,” returned Bethany, “I think you have more than a passing interest in Hughes Barron’s death.”
“Tell Drayton about the frogs, Bethany.”
Now Bethany just looked confused. “The frogs?”
“You know, the rain forest frogs,” prompted Theodosia.
“Oh, God,” said Drayton.
“Tanner Joseph just told me about his work in the Amazon rain forest. Studying the ecosystem up in the canopy.”
“And he told you about poison frogs, Bethany. Frogs that exude toxins. Tanner Joseph knows all about toxins,” said Theodosia determinedly.
Haley had suddenly appeared back in the doorway, anxious to know what was being said. Each time Theodosia’s voice hit hard on the word toxins, she grimaced.
“There have to be dozens of plants and animals in the Amazon that are toxic,” countered Bethany. “So what! To even think that Tanner Joseph had something to do with Hughes Barron’s death is so unfair!”
“No, Bethany,” said Theodosia. “Unfair is Bert Tidwell thinking you killed Hughes Barron.” Tears streamed down Bethany’s face, and Haley quickly went to her side and put an arm around her.
“There, there,” Haley tried to reassure Bethany. “Don’t cry,” she cooed softly. She gazed up at Theodosia. “You don’t need to do this!” Her voice was strident, defensive.
Drayton’s face blanched white. “Please!” he cried out. “I cannot stand to have us all squabble and argue. This terrible thing is wrenching us apart!” His hands were outstretched, as if imploring them all to calm down.
“Drayton’s right,” said Theodosia finally. “I’m so sorry, Bethany. I truly didn’t mean to upset you.” She slipped out of her chair and squeezed around her desk. Putting her hands on Bethany’s glistening cheeks, she stared raptly into the girl’s troubled eyes. “Know this, Bethany. I did not mean to push this so far.”
Tears continued to stream down Bethany’s face, and she hiccuped softly. Haley continued to pat her back and murmur, “There, there.” Drayton twisted his hands in anguish at this display of feminine angst.
Finally, Bethany was able to stem her flow of tears and blow her nose. She took a deep breath, held her head up high. “I’m not upset that you think Tanner Joseph might be a murderer,” she declared.
The three stared at her in stunned surprise.
“You’re not?” said Theodosia.
Bethany stared at Theodosia. “I’m upset because he asked so many questions about you!”
Chapter 35
While spaghetti noodles bobbed and swirled
in a pot of boiling water, Theodosia heated butter and olive oil in a large skillet. “How are you coming with the pancetta, Drayton?” she asked. He was bent over the cutting board, knife in hand, chopping the pancetta into thin strips. “Done,” he said, stepping away. “Want me to add it to the skillet?” Theodosia checked the wall clock. Everything seemed to be timing out just right. “Yes.”
Through the arched doorway they could hear Haley and Bethany talking quietly, setting the table. Ever since Theodosia had made the suggestion that everyone come upstairs for dinner and all had enthusiastically agreed, the mood had been considerably calmer and more copacetic.
Theodosia popped the cork on a bottle of Vouvray and measured out a third of a cup.
Drayton peered at the label. “You use this for cooking? This is awfully good wine.”
Theodosia interrupted her stirring to reach overhead for two wineglasses. She poured each of them a half glass. “That’s the whole idea,” she said. “Salut.” Drayton tipped the glass toward her, took an appraising sip. “Excellent. Love that dry finish.” Theodosia poured her one-third cup of white wine into the skillet and watched it hiss and bubble.
“Now reduce it to half?” asked Drayton.
Theodosia nodded as she stirred the mixture that was beginning to exude an enticing aroma. “And you really use eggs instead of cream?” She nodded again. “Egg yolks.”
“I think I’m going to adore this spaghetti carbonara,” said Drayton. “Of course, it’s not exactly the cholesterol-buster’s version.”
“That’s where the wine comes in,” said Theodosia. “Supposed to have a neutralizing effect. Well, at least we hope it does.”
“You mean like the French paradox,” said Drayton. He was making reference to the staple diet in France that consists of bread, rich cheeses, eggs, cream, and lots of chocolate desserts. Yet, because of their almost daily consumption of wine, the French have an extremely low incidence of heart disease.
“My God,” declared Haley as she tasted her first bite of the creamy spaghetti carbonara. “This is incredible!”
“It’s amazing how far a little cheese, butter, olive oil, pancetta, and egg yolks will go toward making mere noodles palatable,” said Drayton as he passed a loaf of crusty French bread across the table to Haley.
“That’s what’s in this?” asked Bethany. “Yikes! I’m going to be on lettuce and water for a week.”
“Two weeks,” said Theodosia.
“Isn’t it worth it?” grinned Drayton.
The four of them, their squabbles put aside and forgotten, sat around Theodosia’s dining table. They were dining on Theodosia’s good china, the Picard, with tall pink tapers glowing in the center of the table. Looking through the French doors, the diners could observe a fire crackling in be a unique thing to offer! If you can do bridal shower teas and teddy bear teas and Valentine teas, why not mystery teas?”
Theodosia had to chuckle. Right in the middle of a serious conversation, Bethany had come up with a terrific marketing idea. Themed teas. And why not? Why not mystery teas or book lovers’ teas or chamber music teas? Such catered affairs—downstairs at the tea shop, in local inns, in people’s homes—would open up whole new directions for profitability.
“I positively adore the idea, Bethany,” said Theodosia. “And I cheerfully pass the torch of marketing director along to you!”
“Oh, no! When all this is cleared up, I’m going back to the museum world. It’s a lot quieter than a tea shop.”
“A lot safer, too, I’ll warrant,” said Haley. “Now, Theodosia, fill us in on what you’ve found out about Hughes Barron. Share your suspicions concerning Timothy Neville and Tanner Joseph, too. And who’s that weird partner again?”
“Lleveret Dante,” said Drayton, carefully enunciating every syllable. “Anyone for a cup of Chinese Hao Ya?”
Everyone nodded, and Drayton scooted into the kitchen. Measuring four teaspoons of the smoky black Chinese tea into a teapot, he splashed in hot water and returned to the table.
Theodosia leaned forward and, in her quiet voice, shared her suspicions as well as the subsequent discoveries she’d made during the past few days. She spoke uninterrupted for at least thirty minutes. When she finished, the group was wide-eyed with wonderment, literally sitting on the edge of their chairs.
“Wow,” whispered Haley. “You actually went to the morgue?”
Theodosia nodded.
“And you snooped in Timothy Neville’s medicine cabinet?” asked Bethany.
“I can’t say I’m proud of that,” said Theodosia.
“How brave you were,” Bethany replied. “I would have been scared to death.”
“Lleveret Dante is really the wild card in all this, isn’t he?” said Haley.
“What do you mean?” asked Theodosia.
“He’s the one we don’t know all that much about.”
“I suppose you’re right,” said Theodosia.
“How do we go about changing that?” asked Drayton.
“Spy on him,” piped up Haley matter-of-factly. “Run a background check, ask around, follow him if need be. Try to put together a profile.”
“You go, girl,” urged Bethany.
“Haley,” said Theodosia, “are you sure you’re not taking classes in criminology?”
“What about Tanner Joseph?” said Drayton. He gazed evenly at Theodosia. “He’s still working on our tea labels.”
“Leave him to me,” said Theodosia.
It was eight o’clock when they all trooped down the stairs, a yawning Earl Grey padding after them. Everyone still felt sated from the rich dinner, talked out, yet heartened by a renewed sense of camaraderie.
“Someone’s pinned a note to the door,” remarked Dray-ton.
“I bet it’s for me,” said Haley as she slipped her sweater on. “One of the delivery services probably arrived late and found us closed.”
Drayton pulled the paper from the door, where one corner had been stuck into the wood trim that framed the small window. “Let me put on my spectacles.” He pulled wire-rim glasses from his jacket pocket, hooked the bows behind his ears, and studied the note. “Oh, no,” he said, his face crumpling in dismay.
“What is it?” asked Theodosia, instantly on the alert. She snatched the note from Drayton’s hand and scanned it quickly. When she looked up, she was white as a sheet.
“Someone’s threatened Earl Grey,” she said softly. “What!” exclaimed Haley. “Threatened ...How do you mean?”
“The note,” said Theodosia in a strangled voice, “threatened him with...” But her throat had closed up, and she wasn’t able to finish.
“With poison,” whispered Drayton.
“Oh, God!” Haley put a hand to her mouth, shocked.
Theodosia dropped to her knees and pulled Earl Grey close to her, placing her head against his own soft head. “I can’t believe it,” she murmured softly. “I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to Earl Grey.”
“Theodosia.” Above her, Drayton’s lined countenance was grave. “This threat has hit too close to home. I know what we talked about... agreed to... earlier, but now... Well, perhaps the prudent move is to bow out of the investigation entirely.”
“Drayton, we haven’t really been in the investigation,” Theodosia shot back. “Up till now, we’ve only been on the periphery.”
“You know what I mean.” Drayton dropped his large hand to gently touch Earl Grey’s sleek head reassuringly. “We would all be heartbroken should something happen to this fine fellow.”
“Something’s already happened,” said Theodosia tightly. Her fingers kneaded at the dog’s soft fur.
“But, Theodosia—” Haley began.
“When someone threatens anyone close to me, people or pet, they’re threatening me,” continued Theodosia, her voice shaking. “I take it personally. However, I do not take it well. So this will end. And I shall be the one who brings it to a crashing conclusion.”
“My God, Theodosi
a, you can’t be serious,” implored Drayton. “After this terrible note—”
“I’ve never been more serious, Drayton,” she said in a hoarse whisper. She stared up at him, fire smoldering in her eyes, her breath coming in short, choked gasps, her cheeks flushed with color.
Drayton gazed back at his beloved employer, knowing the depth of her emotions and the firmness of her resolve.
“All right, then,” he said finally. “Good for you. Damn good for you. You know we’re all in this with you.” All hands reached down to touch Earl Grey, a silent acknowledgment of solidarity.
Upstairs in her apartment, alone with Earl Grey, Theodosia shook with rage. She had promised everyone she would lock the door and set the alarm. And, yes, she had done exactly that. But she had another idea cooking in her head. A good idea that would insure Earl Grey’s safety and allow her to focus all her energy, once and for all.
Take Earl Grey to Aunt Libby’s. Tonight. Right now.
Then, tomorrow morning, when she could think with a clear head and a lighter heart, she’d figure something out. Maybe even get in touch with Burt Tidwell. Who knows.
But she knew she had to do something. She couldn’t just sit idly by, feeling scared and impotent. If some sick individual had threatened an innocent dog with poison, what would they do to a person?
Of course, she already knew that answer. They’d already done it once before. To Hughes Barron.
Chapter 36
Bundled in a wool sweater, sipping a cup of tea, Theodosia sat on the wide wooden porch, enjoying the warmth of the early-morning sun. Secure in the knowledge that Earl Grey was safe, feeling comforted by the familiar old surroundings of Libby’s house, she had slept well last night, had enjoyed deep, restful sleep for the first time in two weeks.
Now, her body refreshed and spirits slightly buoyed by the sun peeping over the trees, Theodosia gazed contentedly at the golden woods and fields spread out around her. Birds chirped dozens of melodies and darted about. Some even fluttered hopefully just above Aunt Libby’s head as she poured thistle and cracked corn into large ceramic dishes set on the lawn.
