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“It’s all they’re talking about. I’m getting tons of questions, some not all that subtle.”
“Just be noncommittal,” Drayton said. “This will all be forgotten in a day or two.”
“That’s exactly what I told Haley.”
“Right. I mean the man’s deceased. What more could possibly happen?”
A loud CLUNK rattled the tea room, then a sharp WHAP sounded as the front door opened and bounced hard against the inside wall.
“I say,” said an exasperated Drayton. “There’s no need for...”
That’s when Holly Burns and Jeremy Slade burst into the tea shop. They glanced about, twitching with anxiety, fairly jittering on the balls of their feet. Neither one appeared to have slept last night and both looked as if they were carrying the weight of the world on their back.
“Theodosia!” Holly quavered when she spotted her friend standing at the front counter. It was such a sad, plaintive cry that every head in the tea shop turned to look.
5
“Holly?” Theodosia’s footsteps snapped like castanets on the pine floor as she hurried over to intercept Holly and Jeremy. “What’s going on?”
“You won’t believe it,” Jeremy said. The expression on his face was one of pure anguish.
“We’re in big trouble,” Holly said. Her eyes blazed, her teeth practically chattered with pent-up anxiety.
“By that she means the gallery,” Jeremy echoed.
“Wait one,” Theodosia said. She quickly delivered her pot of tea, then came back, grabbed Holly’s hand, and guided them both to a nearby table. Once Holly and Jeremy had collapsed into chairs, Theodosia did a quick check of the tea room. When it appeared she had a few moments to spare, Theodosia sat down and said, “Start from the beginning. Tell me everything.”
“Things couldn’t be worse,” Holly said. Her shoulders sagged, the corners of her mouth twitched. “Several of the big-name artists we signed have suddenly decided to pull out.”
“Not only that,” Jeremy said, “but three major customers canceled their orders and are demanding full refunds.”
“This could ruin us,” Holly cried. “Yesterday the Imago Gallery was starting to gain some much-needed traction in the community, today we’re making headlines and losing business because of a murder!”
“It’s guilt by association over a murder we had nothing to do with,” Jeremy said.
Theodosia listened as they spun out their tale of woe. And the more they talked, the more serious the situation at the gallery sounded. Artists were abandoning them in droves, fearing their little gallery would be deemed culpable in Claxton’s murder.
“And your financial investment?” Theodosia said, turning to Jeremy. “The money you put in, that’s in jeopardy as well?”
“Absolutely,” Jeremy said. “When I invested in the Imago Gallery it was to help relaunch it. To try and attract a higher caliber of artist as well as more upscale and qualified buyers.”
“And to stage events and jazz up our marketing and PR campaigns,” Holly added.
“Who knew that a single disruptive act could throw our gallery into complete and utter chaos?” Jeremy said. “I mean, the press has been having a field day with Claxton’s death.”
“And with us,” Holly cried.
“You can’t let the media define you,” Theodosia said. “You need to take charge and do immediate damage control. Figure out a strategy to mitigate all the bad press.”
“That’s why we thought of you,” Holly said. “You have a background in marketing. You must have had clients who needed crisis management at one time or another, right?”
But Theodosia was shaking her head. “Not a worst-case scenario like this. I’m afraid I don’t have that kind of hard-edge experience.”
Jeremy shot Holly a nervous look. “Ask her,” he hissed.
“Ask me what?” From the looks they’d exchanged, Theodosia knew something was brewing. And it wasn’t a pot of tea.
There was a pregnant pause and then Holly said, “Even if you can’t help us media-wise, we still need your smarts.”
