Plum Tea Crazy

by Laura Childs

  “Did you run my employee down?” Theodosia shot back. “Are you the one who attacked my friend Alexis?”

  “No!” Garver screamed. Then, “Are you completely out of your mind? You concocted every bit of this ridiculous fairy tale and then had the nerve to send the cops after me!”

  “I didn’t make anything up—those attacks really happened.”

  “Maybe so, but I had nothing to do with them,” Garver said. “Nothing!” He shook his head, spun around in a circle on the sidewalk, then said, “Lady, I don’t even know those people.”

  Theodosia wasn’t about to give Garver immediate absolution, just because he was apoplectic about his innocence. Just because he’d been questioned by the police and then released.

  “Where were you last night?” she asked. “Do you have an alibi? Did you tell Detective Riley where you were?”

  Garver stared at her, his mouth working furiously. “Of course I did.”

  “And your alibi was . . . ?” Theodosia wanted to hear it for herself. Wanted the satisfaction of knowing exactly where Garver had been when Jamie was hit, when Alexis was grabbed.

  “Like I told the cops, particularly that Detective Riley, I was at a meeting with three of my contractors.”

  “And these are witnesses, credible people who’ll vouch for you?”

  “Absolutely.” Garver pulled his mouth into a feral snarl. “What is it with you, anyway? I mean, who are you and why are you trying to railroad me?”

  Theodosia thought about the description Alexis had given her. It had been vague, but to her it had sounded like Garver. So much so that she’d begged Riley to take a careful, serious look at him!

  Well, obviously, Riley had.

  Now it appeared that Theodosia, helped along by the urging of Betty Bates, had been wrong, had jumped the gun. Garver might be mixed up in crooked real estate financing, but it looked as if he wasn’t the person who’d engineered the hit-and-run on Jamie or attacked Alexis.

  “What’s wrong?” Garver shouted at her. “Cat got your tongue? Are you even remotely sorry that I got jerked around by the cops?”

  Theodosia stared at him. “When you act the way you did just now . . . coming into my tea shop and making a ridiculous scene . . . then no. I’m not one bit sorry.”

  And with that Theodosia turned her back on him and went inside.

  * * *

  • • •

  But, of course, she knew she owed something to her guests. Not exactly an explanation, but certainly an excuse for the bizarre interruption. But when she stood in the center of the tea room and cleared her throat, hoping she’d be able to find the right words, Drayton stepped in with a silver tray held high.

  “Plum crisp,” Drayton announced in his hale, hearty, oratorical voice. “Plum crisp is one of the signature desserts that we make from scratch at the Indigo Tea Shop using fresh-picked plums from the nearby Perdeaux Fruit Farm.”

  There were oohs and aahs and nods of approval.

  “Theodosia,” Drayton continued in his breezy patter. “Would you please tell our guests about the special topping?”

  “We top our plum crisp with a special cinnamon whipped cream,” Theodosia said. “We use fresh organic cream and imported Ceylonese cinnamon.” She glanced over, saw Haley standing in the doorway, all kitted out in her white chef’s jacket and tall mushroom-shaped hat. “In fact, here’s our head chef right now. Haley’s the one who sourced all the ingredients and prepared your lunches.”

  “Then, she’s the one with the recipes,” Midge Binkley said.

  * * *

  • • •

  As soon as all the desserts were served, Theodosia went over to speak with Alexis.

  “The man that just came in,” Theodosia said. “That was Bob Garver.”

  Alexis didn’t respond, but her eyes widened slightly and she looked pale.

  “Did you recognize him? Because there seemed to be a flicker of something on your face.” Had it been recognition? Or fear? Theodosia wasn’t sure.

  “I . . . I don’t know,” Alexis stammered. “Like I told you last night, it was dark as pitch and the guy, whoever the jerk was, jumped out of the bushes and grabbed me from behind.” She gave a slight shudder. “But I have to say, the man who just stormed in here looked very frightening. I’m glad you dealt with him outside.”

  “So you really couldn’t identify your attacker either way?” Theodosia pressed. She knew Garver had been questioned and released, but deep in her heart she still harbored a strong feeling of suspicion.

  “Think hard, dear,” Aunt Libby said. She was filled with concern for her tablemate. “Take your time.”

  Alexis shook her head slowly. “Sorry . . . but no. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that man before.”

  “Okay,” Theodosia said. Alexis looked like she was getting upset all over again, so it was time to drop the subject. Theodosia drew a calming breath, looked around, and said, “Aside from Garver’s nasty outburst, I’d have to say the tea is going well.”

  “It’s been a rip-roaring success,” Aunt Libby said. “And I think your blip of excitement added just the right dash of panache. Showed your guests that you’re a woman who’s not afraid to take charge.”

  “You were cool under fire,” Alexis said to Theodosia. “I wouldn’t have stayed that calm. Heck, you saw me last night. I melted like a faulty nuclear reactor.”

  Theodosia just smiled. Deep down, she hadn’t been particularly calm at all.

  * * *

  • • •

  By two o’clock, the Plum Blossom Tea was declared a hit and all four courses had been served, consumed, and raved about. But still Theodosia’s garden club ladies made no motion to leave. In fact, they were wandering around, exclaiming over the décor, and shopping their little hearts out. They grabbed tins of tea, scone mixes, tea towels, and jars of honey from the shelves in Theodosia’s gift area.

  “Do you have any more of this Palmetto Peach tea?” a woman asked her.

  “That’s one of Drayton’s house blends,” Theodosia said. “So I’m sure we do.”

  “And what about these T-Bath products?” another woman asked.

  So Theodosia gave a quick rundown on her private label T-Bath products that included green tea lotion, ginger and chamomile facial mist, lemon verbena bath oil, and green tea feet treat.

  Another guest, Candace Jordan, grabbed a package of seeds off a bottom shelf. “What is this, please?” she asked.

  “That’s something new to our retail area,” Theodosia said. “A hummingbird scatter mix. They’re flower seeds you scatter in your garden to grow nectar-producing blooms and blossoms that are particularly attractive to hummingbirds.” And it had worked for her, too. She’d scattered some of the mixture in her garden last spring and, a couple of months later, all sorts of ruby-and-emerald-green hummingbirds had flown in to sip delicately from the flowers.

  When there was a lull, Aunt Libby slipped into the group and touched Theodosia lightly on the arm. “I’m taking off now, dear,” she said. “Thank you for a lovely lunch.”

  “You’re leaving so soon?” Theodosia said. “I was hoping we’d have time for a good gab.”

  “Perhaps later?”

  “I have an idea,” Theodosia said. “Why don’t you come with me to the Carolina Cat Show tonight?”

  “Oh, probably not,” Aunt Libby said.

  “Then how about the Rare Weapons Show tomorrow night?”

  Aunt Libby looked slightly more amenable to this idea.

  “A weapons show isn’t exactly my cup of tea,” Aunt Libby said. “Mind you, I’m not opposed to hunting—or dueling over a lady’s honor—but I think I’d just be a burden to you and your . . .” Her eyes sparkled. “You do have a date, don’t you?”

  Theodosia nodded. “Yes, but . . .”

  “Perhaps you’d
allow me to escort you,” Drayton said, cutting in.

  Aunt Libby took a careful look at Drayton. “Is that a serious offer?”

  “Absolutely,” Drayton said. “And I can guarantee you a highly amusing evening. You’re well acquainted with Timothy Neville and . . .”

  “Is he still so cranky?” Aunt Libby asked.

  Drayton glossed over her question. “Timothy is always under fire where funding is concerned. But I’m sure there’ll be lots of other folks in attendance that you know. Heritage Society donors and whatnot.”

  “I’ve got half a mind to take you up on your offer,” Aunt Libby said.

  “Then I consider the matter settled,” Drayton said. “You’ll come along with us tomorrow night.”

  “You know,” Theodosia said, “there’s a fancy black-tie ball afterward. If you’d like, you could . . .”

  Aunt Libby smiled even as she shook her head. “The weapons show sounds interesting. Not so much the fancy ball.”

  “What’s wrong?” Drayton asked. “Didn’t you pack your dancing shoes?”

  Aunt Libby patted his arm. “I haven’t for a while, dear.”

  * * *

  • • •

  Midafternoon and Theodosia, Drayton, and Miss Dimple were busy cleaning up. Haley was rattling around in the kitchen, packing up leftovers, putting things right in her personal fiefdom.

  “Knock knock,” said a voice.

  Theodosia glanced toward the front door. She hadn’t heard it snick open, hadn’t heard anyone come in. But there was Detective Pete Riley looking inquisitive and (she had to admit) awfully cute.

  “Are you busy?” Riley asked.

  Theodosia set down a tub of dirty dishes and walked over to greet him.

  “Not too busy for you,” she said, just this side of flirtatious. In his khaki trench coat she thought he looked like a modern-day Columbo. But cuter, much cuter.

  Riley looked at the half-cleared tables, the candles guttering in their holders, the plum blossoms just beginning to wilt. “Looks like you had a big shindig here today.”

  “That’s not the half of it. We also had a guest of honor.” When Riley just lifted an eyebrow, Theodosia continued. “Bob Garver—the slimy real estate guy, remember?—dropped in to yell at me.”

  “He was here?” Riley looked positively gobsmacked. “But I was just questioning him a couple of hours ago.”

  “Well, he was here in the flesh and making a terrible fool of himself.”

  “Why? What did he say?” Riley asked.

  Theodosia shrugged. “He blamed me for putting you on his tail. For having him hauled in for questioning.”

  “Doggone it,” Riley said. “I didn’t physically haul Garver in. I just kind of suggested we talk.” He stroked a hand against his chin. “Ah, I should have figured him for a hothead.”

  “You should see him in action.”

  “Oh, I saw enough. We didn’t just question Garver about his whereabouts last night; we were trying to get a handle on those low-interest loans, too. He got pretty upset when we peppered him with questions.”

  “Garver claimed he had an alibi for last night,” Theodosia said. “That he had nothing to do with Jamie’s hit-and-run or the attack on Alexis.”

  “He was alibied up the wazoo, all right,” Riley said. “But when we drilled him about those loans, he wasn’t quite so glib.”

  “So you think something crooked is going on?”

  “I’d put money on it. Just not the city’s money.”

  “Say, now,” Drayton called to them. “How would you both like to taste a new Japanese tea?”

  “Why not,” Theodosia said. She felt bushed and the back of her neck was sore. Tension, she figured. She could use a pick-me-up because the day wasn’t over yet.

  “I’ll give it a shot,” Riley said.

  Drayton walked over to them carrying two small ceramic cups filled to the brim with steaming amber-colored tea. With great care, he handed a cup to Theodosia, and one to Riley.

  “These cups don’t have any handles,” Riley said.

  “Esoteric Japanese design,” Drayton said over his shoulder.

  Theodosia took a sip of tea, swallowed quickly, and said, “I have to tell you something. And it’s kind of tricky.”

  “What now?” Riley asked. He looked as if he was prepared for bad news.

  “I’ve been doing some investigating on my own.”

  “Well, I knew that.” Riley relaxed some, took a sip of tea, and wrinkled his nose.

  “No,” Theodosia said. She didn’t really want to tell him about her foray into Harker’s apartment, but what she’d discovered was too hot to keep quiet. “I mean I’ve done some hard-core investigating and I found something very dark in Jud Harker’s past.”

  “The man who’s been number one on your suspect list. Is he still?”

  “I’m not sure,” Theodosia said. “But I did discover a deep, dark secret.”

  Riley made a rolling motion with his hand. “Come on, spit it out.”

  “I found out that, a number of years ago, Jud Harker accidently shot his ten-year-old brother.” There, she’d gone and dropped the A-bomb.

  “Uh—what?” Riley said.

  What? He didn’t hear me? “I found out that . . .”

  Riley made a hasty stopping motion with his free hand. “Whoa. Rewind, please. Um . . . seriously? Harker shot his own brother?”

  “That’s right.”

  “How exactly did you find this out?”

  “You don’t want to know,” Theodosia said. She figured his brains would explode in his skull if she came completely clean.

  “What is this?” Riley said. “Don’t ask, don’t tell?”

  “Something like that.”

  “No, you’ve got to tell me,” Riley said. “You can’t just dole out heavy-duty information like this in a casual manner.”

  “Okay. I found a clipping in his scrapbook.” Theodosia stopped and offered him a rueful half smile. A look that said, Yup, I messed with his stuff.

  “In his what?” Riley was unsettled, but fought to recover his composure. “You see, since I’m an actual detective, I am detecting the fact that you might have entered Harker’s domicile illegally.” He peered at her. “Just how far off am I in making this assumption?”

  “Not too far,” Theodosia admitted.

  “You’re absolutely positive about this shooting?” Riley asked.

  “I read the newspaper clipping from, like, twenty years ago. Harker wasn’t charged because his brother’s death was ruled an accident.” Theodosia was slightly breathless now. She was also weak with relief that Riley wasn’t going to strangle her. “You can see how this might be pertinent to the Carson Lanier case.”

  “Because of Harker’s nasty threats and the gun collection, yes,” Riley said slowly. “This new information does shade things a bit.”

  “But which way?” Theodosia asked, trying to read Riley’s expression. “That Harker might be innocent, or . . . ?”

  “Not necessarily innocent at all,” Riley said. “In fact, I’m sufficiently bowled over by this new information that I’m going to pick Harker up for questioning. If we can hold him for twenty-four hours, maybe we can sort a few things out.”

  “Can you do that? Hold him, I mean.”

  “My dear, Detective Tidwell has been trying to do exactly that for almost a week. So I’m about to make his fondest wish come true.”

  “What about Bob Garver?”

  “We’ll keep an eye on him, too.”

  “Good. Great. Thank you.” And thank you for not going ballistic.

  “I have one more question,” Riley said.

  “Yes?”

  “What is this tea? It tastes like some kind of weird broth you’d feed to horses.”

  “Ba
rley tea,” Drayton called from behind the counter. “Known as mugicha. It’s a traditional Japanese drink that is, in fact, made from roasted barley. Delicious, no?”

  Riley shook his head. “No.”

  27

  First Drayton wanted to stop at the Opera Society to pick up some tickets at the will-call window, then they had to stop by Cousin Livonia’s house and drop off some leftover scones and tea sandwiches that Haley had packaged up. So by the time Theodosia and Drayton made it to the Carolina Cat Show in Charleston’s massive Gaillard Center, it was late afternoon, almost five o’clock. So they’d missed the early judging.

  But just being there was an absolute stitch. Because it was, to put it mildly, cataclysmic. Cats were everywhere. In show rings, in wire crates, cuddled in their fawning owners’ arms and, yes, a few of them were running around the enormous auditorium where the show was being held. Free-range cats, Theodosia decided.

  “It’s amazing how many different breeds there are,” Drayton said, as they walked down a narrow aisle between piled-up crates, where cats preened as their owners wielded blow-dryers on fur. “Look at that beauty, a Manx. And there’s a Burmese cat and a Russian blue.”

  “I don’t know which ones I like best,” Theodosia said. “The elegant, sleek ones or the rapturously furry ones.”

  “They’re all quite lovely,” Drayton said. “If I were a judge I’d award them all blue ribbons.”

  “You see, that’s why you’re not a judge,” Theodosia said. “In fact, you’d probably go out on the street and give blue ribbons to the strays.”

  “Of course. And I’d feed the little darlings, too.”

  “Okay, we’ve got to find Delaine. She made me pinky swear that I’d stop by, so I have to show the flag.”

  “There she is.”

  “Where?” Theodosia peered around, but didn’t see Delaine anywhere. Which was odd, since she was one of the organizers. Which meant she should be prancing around, shouting out orders to everyone. In other words, being Delaine.

  “Next aisle over.”