Death by Darjeeling

by Laura Childs

  He extended his hand, and Drayton shook it even as his eyes roved over the drawings.

  “I like these,” Drayton declared. “I’ve not seen anything like this before. Most tea labels are flowery or carry coats of arms or clipper ships or drawings of tea leaves. These are like . . .” Drayton searched for the right words. “Like the wood-block prints I saw in Kyoto when I was there on a buying trip.”

  Tanner Joseph smiled. “I’ll admit Japanese prints were in the back of my mind. Indian manuscript paintings, as well.”

  Drayton’s eyes shone. “Well, that really makes it perfect then, doesn’t it?”

  “I’d say so,” agreed Theodosia.

  “And when will these be ready to go to the printer?” asked Drayton.

  Theodosia and Tanner gazed at each other.

  “Tanner thinks he can add the color in a matter of hours,” said Theodosia.

  Drayton half closed his eyes as he calculated the time frame. “The printer needs at least a week to do the adhesive-backed labels. Theodosia, did you order the tins yet?”

  “Yes,” she replied.

  “Gold or silver?”

  “Gold.”

  “Two more days to sticker the tins and fill them,” said Drayton. “So perhaps seven or eight working days at the outset.”

  “That’s right,” said Theodosia.

  Drayton smiled at Tanner Joseph. “I think you’ve done a masterful job, young man. You certainly have my blessing.”

  Tanner bobbed his head, looking pleased. “Great.” He smiled at Theodosia. “It’s been a labor of love.”

  The bell over the door rang again, and a half dozen people entered the tea shop. Four immediately seated themselves at a table, and two began oohing and ahing over a display of Russell Hobbs tea kettles. At that same moment, both phone lines began to ring.

  “Looks like your tea shop just got busy,” declared Tanner. He began to collect his art boards. “I’d better get out of here and let you folks tend to business.”

  “Theodosia,” called Haley from the counter, “telephone. A Mrs. Finster. Said she talked to you this morning. Something about Hughes Barron?”

  Tanner Joseph’s lip curled at the mention of Hughes Barron’s name, and his eyes fastened on Theodosia. “The infamous developer,” he spat out. “I wasn’t aware Hughes Barron had been a friend of yours.”

  “He wasn’t,” replied Theodosia evenly, “but you certainly seem to have a strong aversion to the man. Or at least to his memory, since he’s now deceased.”

  “Hughes Barron was a charlatan and an environmental pirate,” Tanner declared vehemently. “I’m delighted he came to a well-deserved end.”

  “I see,” said Theodosia, and a cold chill touched her heart. Their polite, enthusiastic meeting of a moment ago seemed to have rapidly deteriorated into a nasty go-round concerning Hughes Barron.

  “Excuse me,” said Theodosia. She rose from her chair and stalked off to take Mrs. Finster’s call.

  What an extraordinary woman, Tanner Joseph thought to himself as he quietly departed the Indigo Tea Shop. Confident, worldly, so full of energy. Since the moment she’d first walked into his office at the Shorebird Environmentalist Group, he had longed to learn everything there was to know about Theodosia Browning. Where had she grown up? What had she studied in college? What kind of man did she find attractive?

  He had always found the simplest way to obtain a reliable dossier on someone was through their friends and acquaintances. So he had invited Bethany, her employee, to the gallery opening the other night. Of the two young women he had met in the tea shop, she had seemed the most needful, the most eager to talk. So he had flattered the girl, plied her with a few questions, appeared interested in her problems and her work. It had been simple enough.

  Tanner Joseph glanced back at the brick-and-shingle facade of the Indigo Tea Shop and smiled to himself. What a fine joke that Hughes Barron had succumbed at the Lamplighter Tour’s garden tea with a cup of Darjeeling clutched in his money-grubbing hand. Now he, Tanner Joseph, was designing a set of tea labels. It was those little touches of irony that made life so delightful.

  Yes, he would keep an eye on this extraordinary creature, Theodosia. She was like some wonderful, rare tropical bird. But you couldn’t just walk up and grab something like that. You had to charm it, woo it, make it feel safe. Only then could you hope to possess it.

  CHAPTER 34

  HELLO, MRS. FINSTER.” Inwardly, Theodosia was shaking with anger from her conversation with Tanner Joseph.

  “Miss Browning,” said Mrs. Finster in her flat voice, “you asked me to call if I remembered anything that might pertain to the woman who lived with Mr. Barron.”

  “Yes,” replied Theodosia, her voice almost a whisper, so upset was she.

  “Well, I haven’t,” said Mrs. Finster.

  “Then why—” began Theodosia.

  “Because another detective came by after you.”

  “Tidwell,” said Theodosia.

  “That’s right,” said Mrs. Finster rather crossly, “and he showed me a badge. He had credentials.”

  Theodosia didn’t say a word, but apparently Mrs. Finster wasn’t that upset by her ruse because she continued after a moment.

  “This Tidwell character acted like a bull in a china shop,” she said. “At least you were polite. You showed concern for Mr. Barron.”

  “Did he ask many questions?” asked Theodosia.

  “A few. Wanted to know if the woman living with Hughes Barron was a much younger woman.”

  “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 some
thing 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 brain-storming 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.r />
  “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 the fireplace and hear light jazz as it poured from the CD player. Earl Grey lay under the table, snoring softly. It was hard to believe that just an hour ago they had been upset, angry, suspicious.

  “This was worth blowing off night school for,” declared Haley as she wound the creamy pasta around her fork and took a final bite.

  “Which class was it?” asked Bethany. Candlelight danced on her cheeks, and she certainly didn’t look as though she’d been sobbing her heart out earlier.

  “Abnormal psychology,” said Haley.

  There was silence around the table, then Theodosia spoke up. “I didn’t realize you were taking a psych course, Haley.”

  Haley nodded brightly. “It’s my second one.”

  “I thought you were majoring in communications,” said Drayton.

  “I changed my mind,” said Haley.

  “I’d like to propose a toast,” said Bethany. She held up her glass of wine, and the other three followed suit.

  “To friendship,” she said.

  “To friendship,” they repeated.

  “And solving mysteries,” added Haley.

  They all gazed at her quietly, not sure she was even being serious.

  “Hey, come on,” urged Haley. “We opened Pandora’s box. Or at least Theodosia lifted the lid and peeked in. Now we’ve got to see it through.”

  “Haley’s right,” agreed Drayton. “Let’s lay it all out on the table right now.”

  “You mean everything we know about the suspects?” said Theodosia.

  “Yes. If you shared the information you’ve been able to gather,” he said, “maybe working together, we could all add our perspective and come up with something.”