Steeped in Evil (A Tea Shop Mystery)

by Childs, Laura

  “Gee, that smells nice,” Miss Dimple commented, once Theodosia had carried the candle up to the front counter.

  “It’s going to go in my tea basket,” she said. “For the silent auction at the Art Crawl Ball.”

  “I’ve seen those gorgeous baskets you put together,” said Miss Dimple. “A person would be lucky to get one.”

  “You think?” said Theodosia. “You’d bid on it?”

  “Sure, I would,” said Miss Dimple. “Drayton, wouldn’t you?”

  Drayton was busy measuring out tea. “Hmm?” he said absently. “What?”

  Miss Dimple chuckled so hard that little mounds of flesh all over her small body began to tremble and shake. “Don’t you just love Drayton when he pretends to be all fussy-busy? Isn’t he a stitch?”

  “That’s our Drayton,” said Theodosia. “A laugh a minute.”

  Then, just when the teashop was filled with luncheon customers, just as Theodosia was pouring tea for a tea group from Moncks Corner, the front door whapped open. And Pandora Knight strolled in, slick as you please, looking like the proverbial cat who swallowed the canary, with Mr. Tanaka on her arm.

  16

  “Pandora!” Theodosia gasped. She didn’t mean to gasp. She just hadn’t expected the woman to stroll in unannounced like this, looking so cool and collected.

  Pandora was dressed in a peach sundress, large-brimmed white hat, and bone-colored ankle boots. Tanaka was equally well dressed in what appeared to be a custom-tailored Italian suit that fit his narrow waist and torso perfectly.

  Inclining her head slightly, Pandora said, “Theodosia, darling, I don’t know if you’ve ever been formally introduced to my new business partner, Mr. Michio Tanaka.” She tossed off the words new business partner with breezy aplomb.

  Something felt amiss, but Theodosia managed a polite, “Nice to meet you,” shaking hands with a smiling Mr. Tanaka. “Let me see if . . . yes, we do have a table for you.” She led them to the small table by the window. When they were settled in, she said, “Can I start you off with some tea?”

  “Do you have Gyokuro tea?” asked Mr. Tanaka.

  “Yes, we do,” said Theodosia. “We even serve a first-flush Sencha if you’d prefer.”

  “Even better,” said Mr. Tanaka.

  Theodosia hustled back to the front counter and said to Drayton, “Break out the tetsubin teapot and the ceramic cups; we have a guest from Japan.”

  Drayton glanced over. “I see that. Pandora and Mr. . . .”

  “Tanaka,” finished Theodosia.

  “He was at the . . .”

  “Yes, he was,” said Theodosia. “And now Pandora is introducing him as her business partner.”

  “What!” said Drayton.

  “Strange, huh? I’m going to try to get to the bottom of this.” Theodosia grabbed two scones from the kitchen and quickly assembled a tea tray. Once Drayton had the Sencha brewing, she carried it all to their table.

  Pandora and Mr. Tanaka were whispering excitedly to each other. But when they saw Theodosia approach, they fell completely silent.

  “It looks like the two of you are busy doing business,” Theodosia observed. Though she had no idea what could be so private. After all, they’d come waltzing in, blithely announcing their partnership to everyone who was in earshot.

  “Are we ever,” said Pandora, a look of triumph lighting her face. “I’m happy to report that Mr. Tanaka and I have just arrived at a landmark agreement. His company, Higashi Golden Brands, is going to distribute Knighthall Vineyards’ red wine.”

  “That’s wonderful,” said Theodosia.

  “Cases and cases of red wine!” Pandora enthused. “And basically, it’s an exclusive contract!”

  Theodosia placed their tea and scones on the table. “All your red wine?” That seemed a little strange to her. “As in every single bottle?”

  “That’s right,” said Pandora.

  “Wow,” said Theodosia. “That really is an exclusive.” She thought it a bit strange to distribute all their wine in a single market. Besides, it must cost an arm and a leg to ship wine to Japan. And what kind of condition would the wine be in after such a long and bumpy journey?

  “I take it red wine is the preferred wine in Japan?” Theodosia said.

  Pandora giggled. “If it isn’t now, it will be soon.”

  “Red wine is extremely popular,” intoned Mr. Tanaka. “In fact, it’s a close second to traditional Japanese sake.”

  “Well, good luck to both of you,” said Theodosia. “I’m glad you worked out such a sweet deal.” As she hurried back to the counter, she was wondering why Tanaka was so willing to strike up an exclusive deal with a mid-tier South Carolina winery that wasn’t particularly profitable.

  “What’s a sweet deal?” Drayton asked her. “I couldn’t help but overhear a snippet of your conversation.”

  “Pandora’s just negotiated a major contract,” Theodosia told him. “Mr. Tanaka is going to distribute Knighthall’s wine in Japan. And apparently it’s going to be red wine.”

  Drayton looked puzzled. “Why just red when Jordan’s passion has been white wine? And what’s going to happen to the distribution deals that Jordan set up locally? With the various inns and restaurants and liquor stores?”

  “I have no idea,” said Theodosia. “Maybe they’ll be declared null and void now that Knighthall is putting all its efforts into shipping their wine to Japan.”

  “Still . . . that seems awfully strange. After all the work Jordan put in. And why wine from South Carolina? It’s not like we’re on a par with Napa or Sonoma.”

  Theodosia shrugged. “At least they negotiated a successful contract with a willing distributor. That’s a lot more than Knighthall had before. You said it yourself . . . well, Jordan implied it, too . . . they were struggling to stay afloat.”

  “Yes, I suppose you’re right,” said Drayton. “But it still seems awfully unfair. As if Jordan is taking a backseat in all of this.”

  “Maybe he’s not the savvy businessman you thought he was,” said Theodosia.

  Drayton nodded slowly. “I suppose that’s possible.”

  “Maybe he’s good when it comes to software, but not so good at running a winery.”

  “Excuse me,” said Miss Dimple. “I don’t mean to interrupt you two dears, but do we serve Moroccan mint tea? The ladies at table three are asking for it.”

  “We certainly do,” said Drayton, reaching for a tin. “Shall I brew a pot?”

  “Please,” said Miss Dimple. She nudged Theodosia with a chubby elbow. “That fellow at table six? The lovely Japanese man?”

  “Yes?” Theodosia said.

  “He’s so formal and polite,” said Miss Dimple. “I dropped a bowl of lemon curd at his table and he made a kind of bowing gesture. I guess that’s what they do in Japan, huh?”

  “I guess so,” said Theodosia.

  “I’ll have your Moroccan mint tea in two shakes,” said Drayton. “But in the meantime, can you deliver this pot of honey hibiscus to table two?”

  “Of course,” said Miss Dimple.

  “Drayton,” said Theodosia. She was leaning with her elbows on the counter, mulling things over. “Do you still want to go to Oak Hill Winery tonight? To their wine tasting?”

  “You know, I really do.” He gave a rueful smile. “I’m thinking maybe I can learn a thing or two from all these tough businesswomen who run wineries.” He gave her a slow wink. “And tea shops.”

  • • •

  Some thirty minutes later, Theodosia was just emerging from the kitchen when she saw Pandora shaking hands with Mr. Tanaka and bidding him good-bye.

  Then Pandora spun around, saw Theodosia, and held up an index finger in a slightly imperious gesture. “May I have a word with you?” she asked.

  “Certainly,” said Theodosia.

  Pandora smiled. “In private?”

  Wondering what this was all about, Theodosia said, “Why don’t you come on back to my office.” She led Pandora
past the kitchen and into her little cubbyhole. “As long as you don’t mind the mess.”

  “Not a bit,” said Pandora. “You should see my office; it looks like some kind of bizarre sinkhole. Where all the junk just kind of swirls around!”

  Theodosia seated herself at her desk and let Pandora take the overstuffed upholstered chair that faced it. The tuffet, as they always referred to it.

  “What’s up?” Theodosia asked. Did Pandora suddenly have a lead on someone? Or was this going to be another trumped-up accusation? Or maybe this was a discussion about her business deal?

  Turned out Theodosia was wrong on all counts.

  Pandora licked her lips and started in. “I know Jordan was the one who asked you to get involved in this whole sorry mess, and I truly thank you for everything you’ve done.”

  “You’re welcome,” said Theodosia. “But I don’t think I’ve done very much in the way of solving this case.”

  “Oh, you have,” said Pandora. “You’re too modest. You’ve done way more than you think you have.”

  Theodosia leaned forward. She knew there had to be a point to all of Pandora’s platitudes.

  “But I think you’ve done about as much as you can,” said Pandora. She cocked her head to one side and offered up a rueful smile. “I think . . . well, I think we should just let Sheriff Anson take it from here on.”

  “Seriously?” said Theodosia. She almost didn’t believe her ears. “Even though you’ve said repeatedly that you didn’t have any faith in him?” This was shocking! A complete about-face!

  “I suppose I’ve changed my mind,” said Pandora. Now she blinked rapidly and seemed to conjure up a wistful look. “Or maybe I’ve just accepted that Drew’s murder will never be solved.” She nodded, as if she liked her answer. “Yes, you could say I’ve come to terms with it.”

  But I haven’t. And I doubt that Jordan has, either.

  “Let me get this straight,” said Theodosia. “You’re asking me to back off from any sort of investigation, is that correct?”

  Pandora nodded. “Yes, I guess that is what I’m saying. But Theodosia, I’ll be forever in your debt. And so will Jordan.”

  “Sure,” said Theodosia, trying not to grit her teeth. “No problem.”

  • • •

  “Guess what?” Theodosia said to Drayton.

  “Now what?” said Drayton. He was fussing at the counter, mixing a pitcher of coconut iced tea for a group of women who’d driven in from the Isle of Palms for afternoon tea and treats. “Do you think Haley has any of those candied fruit scones left?”

  “I’m sure she does. But listen, I’ve got news. Pandora news.”

  He looked up. Now she had his attention. “What’s going on?”

  “I’ve basically been relieved of any and all investigatory duties.”

  Drayton carefully poured steaming hot water into a blue-and-white teapot, and then said, “No kidding. Really?”

  “Really.”

  He frowned. “That’s very strange. I wonder if Jordan feels the same way.”

  “Pandora made it sound like he did,” said Theodosia. “Like it was a joint decision.”

  “Do you think it was? A joint decision, I mean?”

  “Probably not.”

  Drayton fussed with the teapot, and then said, “Maybe, in the long run, this will turn out to be a good decision. The investigation wasn’t going all that well anyway.”

  “No, it really wasn’t,” Theodosia admitted. “We did kind of decide that earlier today.”

  “Then it was nice of Pandora to come and tell you herself. Instead of just sending you an e-mail or sticking a Post-it note on the door.”

  “Then why do I feel like I’ve just been scraped off the soles of her shoes?”

  “Do you?” said Drayton.

  “Kind of . . . yes, I guess I do.”

  “Maybe Pandora is just sick and tired of the whole thing,” said Drayton. “The investigation, the wrangling with Jordan . . . maybe she just wants out.”

  “Oh, I think Pandora is definitely sick of the whole thing,” said Theodosia. “Especially since there was no love lost between her and Drew.”

  “But Pandora didn’t kill him,” said Drayton. “She’d never do that. She’s a little strange, but violence just isn’t part of her nature.”

  Theodosia was about to say, But avarice is, then changed her mind. Instead she said, “No, I’m pretty sure she wasn’t involved. Pandora’s hot button seems to be money.”

  “That’s what it sounds like,” said Drayton. “Even though she wasn’t able to persuade Jordan to sell the winery to Tanaka outright, she still negotiated a deal to distribute their wine in Japan.”

  “So she really is controlling things,” said Theodosia. “Including shutting down the investigation.”

  “Well,” said Drayton, “it’s not completely shut down. Sheriff Anson is still pursuing things on his end, right?”

  “I guess so,” said Theodosia. “I sincerely hope so.”

  “Do you think I should still call Jordan and ask him about the silent partner?”

  “I think you should,” said Theodosia. “And I’m going to pursue another angle, too.”

  “Which is?”

  Theodosia hesitated. “I’ll let you know.”

  • • •

  Once Theodosia got her courage up, the rest was easy. She dialed the number for Jack Alston at Charleston’s local ATF office and waited while he came on the line. Alston had been involved in a cigar-smuggling case that Theodosia had been dragged into a couple of months ago. He was smart, decisive, and looked like Central Casting’s idea of an FBI agent. But Alston was ATF all the way. And with his piercing blue eyes, short, almost brush-cut gray hair, and high cheekbones, Theodosia had found the man to be devastatingly handsome. And there had been that little vibe of . . . what would you call it? Interest or tension between them.

  “Well, well,” said Alston in a low, baritone voice, “I was wondering if I’d ever hear from you again.”

  Theodosia had been wondering the same thing. Alston had been friendly, verging on flirtatious, the last time they’d seen each other. She’d had the distinct feeling he might be calling her for a date. No call had been forthcoming. Oh well, she probably would have turned him down anyway. Things were pretty serious with Max.

  “What can I do for you?” Alston asked. “Point you toward a hijacked semitrailer filled with Cuban cigars and French brandy?”

  “How about wine?” said Theodosia.

  “Hijacked wine,” said Alston. “We don’t see that too often. It would have to be very good wine.”

  “This isn’t,” said Theodosia. She paused, trying to collect her thoughts, feeling a little nervous about what she was asking. “Have you heard anything about a murder that took place at Knighthall Winery just outside of Charleston?”

  “No, should I have?”

  “Probably not. But I was there when it happened and kind of got dragged into the whole sorry mess.”

  “Wait a minute,” said Alston, “I’m looking it up right now on my computer. Running a quick search.”

  Theodosia heard the tip-tap of keys, and then Alston said, “Yup, here it is. Drew . . .” He mumbled a few words. “Son of a. . . Holy Shih Tzu, lady! You were there?”

  “Yes, unfortunately. It was kind of a fancy party for their big barrel tasting.”

  “And now they’ve got you over a barrel?”

  Theodosia hesitated.

  “Sorry,” said Alston. “Bad pun. So what can I do for you?”

  “That’s the weird thing,” said Theodosia. “I’m not really sure. Murder was committed, there are no suspects . . . but I feel like something strange is going on.”

  “Strange how?”

  Theodosia breathed a huge sigh of relief. He seemed to be taking her seriously.

  “Maybe because Knighthall just signed an exclusive contract with a Japanese distributor to sell their wine overseas,” she said.

  “
Nothing strange about that,” said Alston. “Happens all the time.”

  “I suppose.”

  “Look, would you like me to dig into this a little further? If I can, that is. I’m not promising anything.”

  “Would you really?” said Theodosia.

  “Hey, I just offered, didn’t I?”

  “Thank you,” said Theodosia. “I really appreciate it.”

  “No problem, pretty lady. You can pay me back later,” Alston said with a wicked cackle.

  Uh-oh.

  “So Knighthall Winery signed a distribution deal with who?” asked Alston.

  “Higashi Golden Brands in Japan.”

  “Got it. Okay. I’ll do some checking and get back to you.”

  “That’s it?” said Theodosia.

  “Sure,” said Alston. “Unless you’d like to—”

  “I appreciate this, I really do,” Theodosia cut in hastily.

  “I’ve got your business phone, but maybe you’d better give me your cell phone number, too. Us federal agents like to keep on top of things.”

  Theodosia gave him the number.

  “Thanks,” she said.

  “I’ll be in touch,” said Alston.

  That’s what I’m afraid of.

  • • •

  Drayton was suddenly standing in front of her. “Earth to Theodosia,” he said. “I’ve got that information you wanted.”

  “The liquor distributor . . . the silent partner?”

  “That’s right.” Drayton set a slip of paper down on her desk. “Alex Burgoyne. And a meeting’s already been set up.”

  “For . . .”

  “Today,” said Drayton. “At two thirty.”

  Theodosia glanced at her watch. “That’s, like, in twenty minutes.”

  “That’s right,” said Drayton. “We work fast around here.”

  “I should say.”

  17

  Theodosia headed east on Broad Street and found that traffic was light even for midafternoon. Turning left on East Bay Street, she stole a glance to her right and enjoyed a gorgeous view of Waterfront Park and Charleston Harbor. Several sailboats and catamarans sliced briskly through the smooth water, taking full advantage of favorable boating conditions. Just past the farthest sailboat, Theodosia could make out the white double-decked Fort Sumter Ferry, which was undoubtedly heading back to Sullivan Island with a full cargo of tourists.