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“Finito,” Drayton said. “You’re officially off the clock.” He set his broom aside and made a dusting motion with his hands. “By the by, how was Delaine’s trunk show?”
“Trunk shows,” Theodosia said. “She brought in three different designers, so her boutique was pretty much jam-packed. Then again, Delaine’s shop is always a madhouse.”
“A fire marshal’s bad dream,” Drayton said.
“I love shopping at Cotton Duck,” Lois said. “But, hoo boy, is her stuff ever expensive.” Lois might have lusted for Delaine’s haute couture clothing and accessories, but she still subscribed to her tried-and-true grad school outfit of blue jeans, a colorful nubby sweater, and leather clogs.
“Tell me about it,” Theodosia said. “My budget prevented me from waltzing back here with a new evening gown or beaded jacket.” She glanced over at Drayton. “You’ll lock up?”
“Count on it. Are you going to pick up your car?” Drayton said.
“Did the dealership call?” Theodosia asked.
“They did and said it’s all done,” Drayton said. “Ready to roll.”
“Car repairs?” Lois asked as they walked out the door together.
“Something like that,” Theodosia said.
Antiquarian Books was down the block from the Indigo Tea Shop in a quaint little building with a yellow-and-white striped awning over a bay window that today had a display of Civil War books. Lois’s original shop had been destroyed in a fire, but she’d lucked out and found a smaller, newly available shop on the same block. Now she was moved in, packed to the gills with books, and almost open for business. Theodosia wasn’t sure if Lois went looking for used books or if they somehow managed to find her.
Lois stuck her key in the lock and pushed the door open. “Come on in,” she said.
That’s when Pumpkin, an adorable little long-haired dachshund, came barreling toward them.
“As you can see,” Lois said, “Pumpkin has already assumed the role of bookshop dog.”
“She’s perfect at it.” Theodosia knelt down and stroked the little dog’s soft dappled fur. “The perfect greeter.” Lois had adopted Pumpkin a few months ago, after she’d been rescued from an overcrowded shelter in Jasper County.
“Make yourself at home,” Lois said.
Theodosia smiled as she cradled Pumpkin in her arms and stood up. She was always at home around books. She’d grown up with her dad’s law books and history books stacked floor to ceiling in his home office. She’d also amassed her own horde of books, which she’d carried with her from school to her first apartment and now to her current home. Some of the books were old favorites like Pride and Prejudice, Beloved, and The Clan of the Cave Bear; others were newer, such as The Midnight Library. At any rate, her collection continued to expand.
Just being here in Antiquarian Books, smelling the leather and bookbinder’s glue, Theodosia had an urge to start poking through the floor-to-ceiling shelves that Lois had carefully labeled as history, food & wine, local authors, religion, fiction, and science. Of course, up a little winding stairway was a loft that contained mystery and children’s books.
Lois walked behind the front counter, grabbed an oversized book, and handed it to Theodosia.
“Here’s that cookbook,” she said.
“Wonderful,” Theodosia said. She set Pumpkin down on the counter and flipped through a few pages. Seeing recipes for Bath buns, quaking pudding, and Naples biscuits, she knew she’d be curled up with this book tonight. “How much do I owe you?”
“Not a penny. It was a donation from someone who was frantic to downsize their home library. Besides, Drayton has already promised me free tea and scones for life.”
“You deserve it,” Theodosia said, tucking the book under her arm.
Lois placed both hands on the counter and leaned forward. She eyed Theodosia carefully and said, “Drayton tells me you’re trying to solve another murder mystery.”
“He told you what I was up to?” Theodosia said.
“Some of it,” Lois said. “Most of it.”
“But you already knew that Osgood Claxton was murdered, right?”
“Only what I read in the newspaper. About your Honeybee Tea, the toxic gas that spurted everywhere, and then the shooting.” Concern shone on Lois’s face. “Drayton told me you single-handedly chased after the shooter.”
“Not one of my smarter moves,” Theodosia said. Pumpkin stared up at her with soft eyes, as if she understood. And maybe she did.
“You took an awful risk. But, Theodosia, why on earth are you letting yourself get pulled into something like this? Is it because you catered the tea?”
