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Twenty minutes later, the Indigo Tea Shop was once again filled with customers. Lunch was in full swing and Theodosia got busy seating guests and taking orders. Today, Haley’s menu included Tuscan soup, chicken salad on pumpkin bread tea sandwiches, roast beef and cheddar cheese on rye tea sandwiches, a chef’s salad, and a chanterelle mushroom and Brie cheese quiche. For desert there was hazelnut tea cake with Moscato poached pears.
Theodosia ran orders back to Haley and happily picked up tea orders from Drayton. He’d outdone himself today by brewing pots of cardamom tea, Nilgiri, and vanilla spice tea.
“The vanilla spice seems especially popular,” Theodosia told him.
“That’s because it reminds everyone of sugar cookies,” Drayton said.
“Oh, and table three is wondering if they could get a pot of Japanese green tea.”
Drayton reached up and pulled down a tin of tea. “I believe I have a Gyokuro that should be to their liking.”
At one fifteen, Theodosia stood behind the counter, munching one of Haley’s just-baked lemon scones.
“You’re eating the merchandise,” Drayton joked.
“If that’s the worst thing that happens today I’ll be quite content,” Theodosia said. Then the front door opened and Riley walked in. “Or maybe not,” she added.
“Hey,” she said, hurrying to greet him. “What brings you in? Taking a break for lunch?”
“Don’t I wish.” Riley pulled Theodosia aside. “You remember that Booker guy, the artist?”
“Sure.”
“Well, he’s disappeared off the radar.”
“You’re kidding,” Theodosia said. And then, without giving it a second thought, added, “But I just saw him last night.”
Riley did a slow reaction. His brows puckered, then pulled together, his mouth worked soundlessly for a few moments. Then he said, with more than a tinge of curiosity, “I thought you weren’t going to get involved in this case. That you and Drayton attended some arts thing last night.”
“Right.” Theodosia knew she’d better think fast. “The silent auction at the Arts Alliance. Booker happened to come in just as Drayton and I were leaving.” She kept her tone light, hoping Riley wouldn’t get suspicious and start asking more questions. But he did.
“How did you know who he was?”
“Um, I guess I must have been introduced to him once upon a time at the Imago Gallery.”
“And that’s it?”
“If you’re asking did I get in a fight with Booker or have words with him because I think he’s a prime suspect, the answer is no,” Theodosia said. She touched a hand gently to the back of her head in the guise of patting her hair, and told herself, No, I’m not going to blurt out what happened last night. That’s going to remain a deep, dark secret.
Riley lifted a hand in a gesture of surrender. “Okay, I hear you. Don’t shoot the messenger.”
Now it was Theodosia’s turn to be curious. “Why are you trying to find Booker?”
“Because it turns out he has a record of sorts.”
“No kidding. What kind of record?” Theodosia asked.
“He’s been arrested for a couple of minor offences. Recreational drugs, driving without a license. That kind of thing.”
“That doesn’t exactly point to Booker being a murderer.” Even though Theodosia had serious doubts about Booker, she wanted to hear Riley’s take.
“There’s more,” Riley said. “It turns out your Mr. Booker once worked at Apple Springs Orchard.”
“Which means... what?”
“That particular orchard is also an apiary,” Riley said. “They raise honeybees there.”
Theodosia stared at him, letting his words sink in.
