Pekoe Most Poison

by Laura Childs

  “I’ll give it a try,” Theodosia said.

  “What else have you got?” Delaine asked as Sally poured the iced chai into a tall glass for Theodosia.

  “We also have what we’re calling our blueberry crush,” Sally said. “It’s fresh blueberries blended with protein powder, a scoop of frozen yogurt, and almond milk. Really terrific.”

  Delaine wasn’t impressed. “No, I think I prefer champagne.”

  “How do you like the iced chai?” Sally asked Theodosia once she’d had a taste.

  “Not bad,” Theodosia said. And it wasn’t.

  “You know,” Sally said, “I still feel bad about Big Reggie. He was a pretty good guy.”

  “Even though he was always yelling at you?” Theodosia asked. And will probably be convicted of murder?

  “I know,” Sally said. “People are whispering terrible things about him. And particular aspects of Big Reggie’s personality aren’t so great. But it always felt like the man had a good heart. I know he worked very hard to make a lot of this happen tonight. He hired the musicians and put together the fashion show and even merchandised the gift shop. It’s a pity he can’t be here to mingle with the guests and enjoy some of the fruits of his labor.”

  “Perhaps sitting in a jail cell will make him reconsider his motivation,” Delaine said, helping herself to a second glass of champagne from a passing waiter.

  “You think so?” Theodosia asked. She didn’t think so. Big Reggie had proved himself to be a cold-blooded killer. Which probably meant he was unrepentant.

  “And I suppose there’ll be lots of changes now,” Sally said. “With Opal Anne running the show.”

  “How could there not be?” Delaine said.

  “What some of us are thinking,” Sally said, “is that, on the positive side, she’ll bring a younger perspective to Gilded Magnolia Spa.”

  “Youth can be so overrated,” Delaine said.

  “When we spoke with Opal Anne earlier,” Theodosia said, “she seemed extremely upbeat. Maybe a little dazed because all of this is happening so fast, but excited at the prospect of being a spa manager.”

  “I’m happy for her,” Sally said. “Especially since she just broke up with her boyfriend.”

  “Men can be overrated, too,” Delaine said.

  “You know what?” Sally said. “You ladies should run down to the spa and get a free pedicure. If you go right now, before they make a big announcement about free treatments, you won’t have to wait in line.”

  • • •

  Sally was right. When Theodosia and Delaine walked into the spa treatment lobby, there were only a couple of ladies ahead of them.

  “You’re here for a pedicure?” the woman behind the front desk asked.

  “That’s right,” Delaine said. “And maybe a manicure, too?”

  “We’re not doing manicures right now,” the woman said. “But our pedis include an exfoliating sea salt rub.”

  “Be still my heart,” Delaine said.

  “And my toes,” Theodosia echoed.

  “If you’ll come this way?” the spa worker asked.

  Theodosia and Delaine followed her down the hallway and into a plush treatment room.

  “Make yourself at home,” the woman said. “I’ll send in one of our technicians as soon as she’s free.”

  “Oh,” Delaine said. “You only have the one Pedi Lounger?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Not to worry,” Theodosia said. “You can go first.”

  “You don’t mind?” Delaine said. She had already crawled into the chair and kicked off her gold, high-heeled sandals.

  Theodosia sat in a small leather club chair opposite her. “Not really.”

  “Knock knock.”

  Theodosia glanced up with a smile, expecting to see the nail technician. Instead Opal Anne was standing in the doorway.

  “I come bearing gifts,” Opal Anne said. “At least gift bags anyway.”

  “Ooh, I absolutely adore swag,” Delaine cooed.

  “Now, don’t tell anybody,” Opal Anne said, “but these are special gift bags.” She handed a red-and-gold gift bag to Theodosia and a blue-and-gold gift bag to Delaine. “Along with the perfume samples and spa socks and rubber exercise bands that everybody else is getting, I loaded up these bags with lots of extra goodies.”

  “Thank you,” Theodosia said.

  “Very kind of you,” Delaine said as she immediately dug a hand inside her bag.

  “As you can see,” Opal Anne said, “I tossed in some makeup, a bunch of handmade soaps, and a pair of flip-flops.”

  “Rubber flip-flops?” Delaine asked. She looked horrified. As if she’d been asked to surrender her Manolo Blahnik heels and wrap dead animal skins around her feet.

  “The flip-flops are just to wear temporarily,” Opal Anne explained, smiling, and slightly amused by Delaine’s reaction. “You know, post-pedicure. So you don’t smear your freshly polished toes.”

  “Of course,” Delaine said. But she still looked unhappy.

  “Well, enjoy,” Opal Anne said. “I’ve got to go mingle with the guests and introduce myself to a whole bunch of people.”

  “Good luck,” Theodosia said. “Have fun.”

  Then the nail technician arrived in a flurry of towels and loofahs, turning on the water to fill the basin, handing them a color chart to show which polishes were available.

  “I’ve got one more pedicure to finish,” the technician said, “and then I’ll be right back. In the meantime, maybe you ladies could choose your color.”

  “Sure thing,” Theodosia said. But Delaine was already busily perusing the color chart.

  “I’m going for the Paradise Peach nail polish,” Delaine declared. “What about you, Theo? What color are you going to choose?”

  Theodosia glanced at the chart. “Maybe the Nearly Nude?”

  Delaine made a face. “Don’t you think that’s awfully safe and boring? Why not live it up and pick something with a little more pizazz?”

  “Then you pick,” Theodosia said.

  “Okay, I will. How about . . . Red Raspberry?”

  “Perfect. It’s exactly what I wanted but didn’t realize it.”

  Delaine stuck her feet in the bowl of sudsy water and leaned back. “You know,” she said, trying to sound casual, “your swag bag looks a lot more interesting than mine.”

  Theodosia gazed at Delaine, thinking, Now, there’s the Delaine I know and love. “Do you want to switch bags? Is that what you’re really asking me?”

  “If you don’t mind, Theodosia,” she said in a small voice.

  “I guess not.” It was probably all the same stuff, right? She handed her bag over.

  “Thank you.”

  And now another person was peering into the treatment room. Only it wasn’t the nail technician, it was Starla Crane!

  29

  “Starla!” Theodosia cried out. All the while thinking, Oh dear, what does she want? Is she going to come sashaying in here and make a great big stink?

  “I suppose you’re happy as a pig in a pit full of mud,” Starla said. She hovered in the doorway, halfway in, halfway out, delivering her words in a grudging tone of voice.

  “What are you doing here?” Delaine snapped. “Have you come to spread your vitriol once again?”

  But Theodosia held up a hand. She was going to let Starla say her piece. Whatever that might be.

  “I dropped by Doreen’s house this afternoon,” Starla said. “To try to do some damage control. Hopefully retain her as my PR client.” Starla shrugged as she stared at Theodosia. “But all she did was talk my ear off about you. Bragging about how you figured everything out about Reggie Huston. And how you even got her money back from some venture capital guy.”

  “Don’t you wish you were as clever as Th
eodosia?” Delaine asked.

  Theodosia silenced Delaine with a loud shush. Then said, “It wasn’t just me, Starla. The police were on Reggie’s trail, too.”

  “Sure they were,” Starla said. “Just like they were on my trail.” She stood in the doorway, shifting from one foot to the other. She was obviously here for the grand opening, but it was clear that her role had been severely marginalized.

  “I’m sorry things turned out the way they did,” Theodosia said. And for some reason, she really meant it.

  “Yeah, whatever,” Starla said. “Still, I suppose I at least owe you a grudging nod. Thank goodness the police aren’t breathing down my neck anymore.” She shook her head, looking pensive yet distracted. “It’s hard to believe that Big Reggie was the killer all along.”

  “A double murderer,” Delaine said, smiling. “He poisoned Beau Briggs and hanged that poor boy, as well.”

  “I guess you never know what secrets are buried deep within the human heart,” Theodosia said.

  Starla made a motion to leave and then turned back. “I’m still having trouble wrapping my head around Reggie. He always struck me as being a fairly levelheaded guy. I mean, Reggie was completely crackers, of course. He was totally ADD and was always yelling his head off at people. But he was good with finances. And he always seemed decent.”

  “I guess looks can be deceiving,” Theodosia said.

  Starla remained perplexed. “I’ll say.”

  • • •

  “Okaaay,” the nail technician said as she hustled back into the room. “Let’s get started with your sea salt scrub and then move on to a hot stone massage.”

  Delaine slid down in her chair even more. “A massage, too? That sounds positively blissful.”

  “You know what?” Theodosia said. “While you’re getting your pedicure and massage, I’m going to take a walk out to the pool.” She pulled her flip-flops out of her gift bag and slipped them on. They were bright pink and felt soft and spongy. Kind of nice after wearing high heels, even if it had only been for less than an hour. “I’ll see you in a little bit, Delaine.”

  Delaine barely lifted a hand to wave good-bye.

  Theodosia padded down the hallway, headed in the direction of where she remembered the pool was located. She turned left, saw a locker room on her right, and figured she was definitely in the vicinity.

  She was. But it was for the indoor pool.

  Hot steam and the smell of chlorine drew her closer. And so did the sound of jazzy music.

  What’s going on here?

  As Theodosia stepped through another door onto a damp, tiled floor, all was revealed. A crowd of people were watching some sort of pool demo. Blue swimsuit–clad ladies were bouncing around with paddleboards, mimicking the antics of a playful otter. Or maybe they were re-creating the sinking of the Titanic.

  A woman moved in close to her as she watched.

  “Do you think you have the stamina for that kind of exercise?” the woman asked in a low voice.

  Theodosia glanced to her right and found that Honey Whitley was standing next to her, favoring her with a slightly snarky smile.

  “I don’t know,” Theodosia said. “It looks awfully high energy.”

  “Water exercise is always tough,” Honey said. “Lots of resistance to get your heart rate up and burn off a good ten calories a minute. But it’s easy on the joints.” She eyed Theodosia with suspicion. “Though your joints still look pretty good.”

  “I hope they are.”

  “You’re a runner, aren’t you?” Honey said. “I see you going by all the time with that big floppy dog of yours.”

  “We try to log two or three miles a couple of times a week.”

  “Running is hard on the knees,” Honey said.

  “Hasn’t bothered me so far.” Sometimes Theodosia’s knees were sore after a run, but she wasn’t about to admit her aches and pains to Honey.

  “What do you think about Opal Anne stepping in to run Gilded Magnolia Spa?” Honey asked suddenly. “Do you think she’ll be able to keep this place from going off the rails until she can hire a good general manager?”

  “You think she needs a manager?” Theodosia asked.

  “Most definitely,” Honey said. “This is a brand-new business, after all. One that’s still trying to attract clients and gain traction in the market.”

  “I realize that,” Theodosia said. “But Opal Anne should have some practical know-how. After all, she graduated with a major in business.”

  Honey frowned and shook her head. “No, I don’t think she was a business major.”

  “Excuse me?” Theodosia said. She’d been busy watching the ladies in the pool. Now they were doing some kind of bouncing exercise that looked like a cross between drowning and jumping jacks.

  “It seems to me that Doreen was always yapping about what a brainiac Opal Anne was,” Honey said. “How she excelled in math and science.”

  “But that wasn’t her major,” Theodosia said.

  Honey gazed at her. “I’m fairly sure Opal Anne’s major was chemistry.”

  “Chemistry?” Theodosia said. Without fully realizing why, her stomach suddenly dropped out from under her. “Are you sure about that?”

  “I’m almost positive.”

  Theodosia didn’t respond. Her head was suddenly filled with images of periodic tables, molecular structures, chemical compounds, and an insider’s know-how about toxicity. Without a word to Honey, she turned and ran.

  “Theodosia,” Honey called after her. “What’s wrong? Why are you running away? Theo-do-sia!”

  Theodosia sprinted through the locker room, past a row of bright-pink lockers, and then down a hallway. As she ran, her flip-flops made loud thwack thwack thwacks against her heels.

  Chemistry? Opal Anne was a chemistry major? That meant she knew all about organic matter and chemical reactions and how they might affect the human body.

  But, no, Theodosia thought as she huffed along. Maybe Honey had gotten it all wrong. Honey was a ditz who talked way more than she listened.

  On the other hand, Opal Anne had admitted that she spent almost all of her free time here at Gilded Magnolia Spa. So it would have been no problem at all for her to grab Reggie’s car keys. And steal his car. And then . . . oh no!

  Doreen had said that Opal Anne had just broken up with her boyfriend? The idea felt far-fetched, but what if her boyfriend had been Marcus Covey, one of the rat servers? What if he’d been in on Beau’s murder, but Opal Anne hadn’t trusted him completely? Feared that Covey might spill his guts to the police?

  Of course, the final kicker was that Opal Anne hadn’t really had much of an emotional connection with Beau Briggs at all. He wasn’t even her father, for goodness’ sakes, he was her stepfather!

  • • •

  Theodosia crashed her way through the lobby of the treatment area. Somehow, with all the subdued lighting and plush corridors, she’d gotten hopelessly turned around.

  “Delaine!” she called out. “Delaine, where are you?” She was in such an excited state that she couldn’t remember which room Delaine was in.

  She peeked into a room on her right. Nothing.

  Finally, in the third room down, she found Delaine sitting in her lounger. The technician was bent over her feet, about to begin a hot stone massage.

  “Delaine,” Theodosia said, practically out of breath. “I think I just figured this out. We’ve got to call . . .”

  Delaine glanced up at her. “Isn’t it strange?” she said blithely. “Jemma never mentioned to me last night that Glam Baby Cosmetics changed their packaging. But look at this.” She held up a bright-red lipstick that she’d just uncapped. “Their lipstick tubes were originally square-shaped copper tubes, but now they’re silver and round.” She swiveled the lipstick up and aimed for her lips.

  �
�Delaine!” Theodosia screamed. “Don’t! Stop what you’re doing immediately!”

  Delaine stopped, the bloodred lipstick hovering a mere inch from her lips. “Why?” she asked querulously, a tiny wrinkle suddenly intersecting her forehead. “What’s wrong?”

  Oh no, that gift bag had been intended for me. Opal Anne still wanted to stop me from investigating.

  “Give me that lipstick,” Theodosia said. “And for goodness’ sakes don’t touch it to your lips!”

  Delaine looked perturbed as she screwed the red lipstick back down into its tube and handed it to Theodosia. “Why not?” she demanded. “What’s wrong?”

  “That lipstick is . . . it’s tainted.” Theodosia decided that tainted sounded better than telling Delaine it was probably dripping with poison.

  30

  Lipstick clutched firmly in hand—the lipstick that had surely been intended for her—Theodosia stormed back down the hallway. A nearby door stood partially open and she could see some kind of warming stove in the room, similar to a sauna box. It was where the masseuses heated the flat, black stones they used for hot stone massages. Theodosia grabbed a black mesh bag and tossed in a dozen of the hot stones. Then she took off again.

  Theodosia figured she looked like a crazy lady as she loped down the corridor, flip-flops thwacking as she clutched a lipstick in one hand and a bag full of hot stones in the other.

  She didn’t care.

  She had one goal in mind.

  Find Opal Anne.

  She darted past the juice bar, where a gaggle of people barely gave her a second look. Then out through the lobby, where two spa employees in matching gold jackets, kind of like an upscale Chinese waiter might wear, were handing out pink gift bags. The real gift bags.

  But there was no Opal Anne in sight.

  Theodosia raced into the lounge where the fashion show was enjoying a second showing. Marilyn Manson’s cover of “You’re So Vain” was blasting from the speakers as the models strutted and bounced their way along the makeshift vinyl runway. At least fifty people were crowded into the lounge, enjoying the spectacle.