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9
Tea kettles sang their chirpy songs and steeping teapots released puffs of aromatic steam as Theodosia bustled about the tea shop this Tuesday morning. It looked to be a busy day. Their regular morning tea service always kept them hopping, and they also had to get ready for their special Wind in the Willows Tea luncheon. Thanks goodness Miss Dimple was coming in to help.
But for now, Theodosia set the tables with pale yellow placemats, put out the Chantilly silverware, and added Dainty Blue teacups and saucers by Shelley. She grabbed tea lights and sugar bowls, then ran into the kitchen to grab plates of thinly sliced lemons and small pitchers of cream.
There. She gazed around the tea shop. What else to do? Well, she could tell Drayton about last night. Get his take on what she learned talking to Booker.
Theodosia inched up to the counter, where Drayton was busy pulling down tins of tea. He looked like an alchemist getting ready to brew up some magic.
“Do you remember when Holly and Jeremy were in yesterday and they mentioned an artist named Booker?” Theodosia said.
“The fellow they worried might have done something crazy?” Drayton said without looking up. He obviously did remember the conversation.
“Exactly. Well...” Theodosia hoped Drayton wouldn’t pop his cork over what she was about to tell him. “I ran into Booker last night.”
Now Drayton lifted his head and stared at her. “You ran into him? Pardon me while I step outside and scream at the universe.”
“No Drayton, hear me out.”
Drayton tilted his head in her direction. “Why do I think you’re going to give me an abridged version of the story? Let’s start with the actual facts. Such as perhaps you sought him out?”
“That’s one way to put it.”
Drayton’s brows knit together in worry. “Tell me you didn’t really talk to the man.”
“I did really.”
“Will you never learn?”
“Actually, I learned quite a lot. It seems that Booker despised Osgood Claxton because Claxton used his political power to yank an arts grant away from him. A grant worth eighteen thousand dollars.”
“Hmm?” Drayton looked slightly more interested now. “Therein could lie a motive I suppose.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Drayton measured six scoops of tea into a pink floral teapot and poured in a steady stream of hot water. “So Holly was right about this Booker character being a little crazy.”
“Booker was kind of drooling with glee over Claxton’s murder. He said it couldn’t have happened to a more deserving guy.”
“That’s dangerously close to a confession. I hope you shared that information with Riley.”
“I did and Riley said he’d look into it.”
“So now you don’t have to,” Drayton said.
Theodosia tapped a finger against the lid of a glazed green teapot. “That’s exactly what Riley said.”
Drayton smiled. “Great minds think alike.”
“But it’s still fascinating. To know that Booker had a grudge against Claxton and could have been the killer.”
“Actually, it’s terrifying. And if I never have to make the man’s acquaintance I’ll be deliriously happy.”
DING DING.
Theodosia and Drayton both glanced toward the front door at the same time.
“Customers,” Drayton said, while Theodosia was already speeding to the door, a smile on her face, to welcome them in.
