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“Theodosia’s been a real lifesaver,” Holly said.
Theodosia shook her head. “No, I must confess I’m feeling somewhat stymied right now. Just too many suspects, but not a whole lot of evidence that would single out one and lead to an arrest.”
“You’ll find something sooner or later,” Philip said. “I know you will.” He reached over, grabbed Holly’s hand, and squeezed it. “I can feel it, can’t you, sweetheart?”
“I can, I really can,” Holly said. She finally looked relaxed and almost happy.
Philip stood up. “And on that final note, I’m afraid I must step back into my lair. Besides preparing our regular Thursday night menu, I’ve been asked to create some light snacks for one of our regular customers over on Archdale Street. They’re hosting a small party tonight and asked me to cater what they’re calling a light supper buffet.”
“What will you be preparing?” Drayton asked.
“Grilled eggplant pizza, squash ravioli, sautéed rock shrimp, and, for the pièce de résistance, chocolate tiramisu.”
“Tiramisu? Be still my heart,” Drayton said as he stood up from the table, happily sated.
Theodosia, who had a ferocious sweet tooth, simply said, “Yum.”
Philip came around the table and pulled out Theodosia’s chair for her. “C’mon,” he said. “I’ll walk the two of you to the door.”
As they all strolled through the darkened restaurant, Drayton hung back, talking with Holly.
“She’ll talk an arm and a leg when it comes to art,” Philip said to Theodosia as he glanced back.
“Then she’s met her match in Drayton,” Theodosia said. “He’s crazy about art and antiques.”
As they pushed open the front door, light from an overhead streetlamp spilled down, spotlighting the two of them. Ten seconds later, Drayton and Holly emerged.
“Wow,” Holly said to Theodosia. “In this light your hair looks like it’s burnished with silver.”
Theodosia reached up to pat her hair. “Except when the humidity is on the rise, like it is tonight, it seems to have a mind of its own.”
“Still, it looks pretty,” Holly said.
Theodosia patted her hair again, this time a little self-consciously. “Pretty hard to deal with sometimes.”
24
On the way home, Theodosia rolled down her window and inhaled the sweet scent of magnolia in the air. They were driving down Legare, which was not only lined with mansions, but verdant with palm trees, magnolias, and jessamine. That was the thing about Charleston, so many homes had their own elaborate gardens filled with statuary, shrubs, ponds, flowers, and exotic greenery. Theodosia knew for a fact that the house on the corner, a fanciful Victorian, had a backyard filled with carefully tended Japanese bamboo as well as a small teahouse.
Then her fingers squeezed the steering wheel as her thoughts turned to the break-in at Mignon’s shop and the question that still sat heavy on her mind—had Booker been responsible?
“Drayton,” Theodosia said. “I have a favor to ask.”
“Ask away,” Drayton said. “While the night is still young and I’m in a good mood.” He’d had two fully topped-off glasses of wine and was feeling ebullient.
“You’re not going to like what I’m going to ask.”
“Try me.”
“Here’s the thing. I called my friend Danny Rivera and asked if I could borrow his motorboat.”
“I’m guessing this is directly related to the just-in-case phone call you made earlier?”
“Right. I was hoping we’d be done eating at a reasonable hour—which we are—and could take a run over to Little Clam Island, where Booker’s place is located.”
“In this so-called borrowed boat? You don’t even know how to find Booker’s place.”
“I’ve explored those islands before in a J/22. They’re like little specs just a few feet above the waterline. So I don’t think his place will be that difficult to find.”
