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“Crocs. And that’s not Haley,” Theodosia said.
“Then who? Our back door is supposed to remain locked.”
Haley suddenly parted the curtains, peeked out at them, and said, “I unlocked it. Ben’s here.”
Drayton’s eyebrows shot up again.
“Just who I wanted to talk to,” Theodosia said. She hurried into the back hallway and called, “Ben?”
Ben Sweeney was standing there munching a cream scone. He was blond with longish hair and a slightly scruffy beard that seemed to be all the rage among young twentysomething guys. The way he was dressed—black AC/DC T-shirt and ripped jeans—made him look more like a garage band freak than someone who was working toward his master’s degree.
“Oh hi” was Ben’s muffled reply as he continued to chew. “I just came by to pick up Haley.”
“I’ll be ready in two shakes,” Haley called to him from the kitchen. “Just gotta package up the leftover tea bread and flip the switch on the dishwasher.”
“Have the police talked to you?” Theodosia asked Ben. “About your motorcycle?”
Ben stuffed another bite of scone in his mouth and said, “Yeah. I told ’em it wasn’t me. That I was at the library.”
“Did you know Osgood Claxton?”
Ben swallowed hard, shook his head, and said, “Nope.”
“What about his political opponent, Lamar Lucket? Rumor has it you once worked on one of Lucket’s campaigns.”
Ben’s brows pulled together. “That jerk?” He let loose a derisive snort. “It was a couple of years ago and it was part of a volunteerism project for an undergraduate poli-sci class.”
“That’s it?” Theodosia said.
“Hey, I wouldn’t recognize either one of those guys if I ran into them on the street. If I ran over them.”
“I’m ready!” Haley cried as she squirted out the door of the kitchen and planted herself firmly between Ben and Theodosia.
Ben put an arm around Haley’s shoulder. “Then let’s bounce,” he said.
“Have fun, you two,” Theodosia said as they careened through her office and out the back door.
“That was Ben?” Drayton asked when Theodosia returned to the tea room.
“Yup. I asked him if he knew Osgood Claxton and he said no.”
“How about the fellow who was running against him, Lucket?”
“Ben claimed the only reason he volunteered on the man’s campaign was to fulfill a class requirement.”
“Do you believe him?” Drayton asked.
“About ninety-eight percent,” Theodosia said.
“And the other two percent?”
“Still up in the air.”
***
It was after four by the time Theodosia arrived at the Imago Gallery. From outside, she could see pinpoint spotlights shining through the windows. But when she pushed her way through the front door, the place looked deserted. Well, devoid of people anyway. Still, light cascaded down on colorful paintings that were hung on stark white walls, and a few good-sized metal sculptures—one resembling a strangled bird—were perched on blocks of white Lucite. At the same time, more than a dozen canvases were leaned up against a counter and narrow wooden crates were stacked nearby, as if paintings were about to be packed up and shipped out.
“Anybody home?” Theodosia called out as she walked across their uber-trendy gray industrial carpeting.
