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Yes!
“Stop!” Theodosia shouted as the dog, undaunted, circled back around, barking loudly. Then, as the man searched frantically for his gun, the dog dashed back in and nipped his pants leg for a second time.
Hindered by his mask, unable to locate his gun, the phony beekeeper spat out a single harsh word. Then his leg flew up and he kicked the offending dog right in the head, sending the poor mutt spinning.
“The police are on their way!” Theodosia shouted as she reached down and snatched up a piece of broken glass. It was the bottom of the vase and it made a dandy weapon.
The phony beekeeper ignored her and lumbered up a small hill where a stand of palmettos waved in the breeze. Once he’d reached high ground, he spun around to face her.
Theodosia stopped in her tracks.
Now what?
Was she tough enough to rush in and attack this jackhole? Try to wrestle him to the ground until law enforcement could arrive? Probably not. She could hear the faint drone of sirens off in the distance—answering Haley’s 911 call, thank heavens—but they wouldn’t reach her, wouldn’t find her, anytime soon.
Theodosia held up the hunk of glass and made a cutting gesture.
As if to retaliate, the phony beekeeper hoisted his smoker and pointed it at Theodosia. But when he flipped a lever with his finger, he was clean out of smoke.
Disappointed and frustrated, the phony beekeeper tossed the smoker on the ground, where it clattered and rolled away. Then he lifted an arm and pointed directly at her. It was a silent, ominous gesture. A clear message that said he wouldn’t soon forget this confrontation. Then the phony beekeeper turned and bounded across the grass into a copse of trees. Seconds later, he’d disappeared from sight. There was a loud revving sound and then... silence. A few birds, the wind through the trees.
Theodosia stood there, out of breath, scared, and frustrated. She was also shocked at herself for having sprinted after the man without benefit of a weapon or a serious plan.
She’d been motivated by... what? Just good old retaliation, she guessed. Hard-boiled anger had sunk its talons into her and almost gotten the better of her.
Not good. Not smart, Theodosia told herself.
As adrenaline continued to fizz through her body, Theodosia turned and slowly retraced her steps. On a path that was strewn with shattered glass and broken yellow jonquils.
2
Theodosia had never seen so many ambulances in her life. They came screaming in from the surrounding hospitals, one after the other, sirens blasting, red and blue light bars pulsing like crazy. Right behind them was a horde of black-and-white police cars as well as two fire-and-rescue squads from the Charleston Fire Department.
And all around her guests continued to cough, hack, sob, and wipe frantically at eyes that were bright red and stinging mightily. Some of the guests were sprawled on the grass, others slumped in chairs.
Respirators were quickly handed out; many guests were getting their eyes washed out by EMTs who’d arrived early on the scene.
One EMT hurried over to where Claxton’s body lay on the ground some forty feet away and bent down to check for life signs. When he found none, he covered the body with a black plastic tarp. But as more help arrived, no one looked at the body. Not a single person walked over there. It was like a smoldering puddle of nuclear waste that nobody wanted to acknowledge.
Theodosia grabbed a police sergeant she recognized and pulled him aside.
“Sergeant Walker,” she said. “There’s a gun.”
Walker beetled his bushy brows and stared at her. He had a hangdog face and looked weary, as if he’d already put in a good long day. But his eyes were still sharp and keen.
“The man—the one dressed as a phony beekeeper—after he spewed smoke all over, he shot Claxton.” Still trying to catch her breath, Theodosia pointed at the body.
“What about this gun?”
“The killer dropped it,” Theodosia said. “I chased after him until he... well, if you want, I can show you exactly where the gun was tossed.”
Walker bit his lip. “Show me.”
***
By the time Theodosia returned with Sergeant Walker carrying the dropped weapon as well as the abandoned smoker, the local EPA had arrived. Two men in white hazmat suits wandered through the area with some kind of mechanical sniffer. Trying to figure out what kind of fumes had been released, she guessed.
Then Theodosia looked around for Drayton and Haley.
