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“Well, it was Glen Humphries, his assistant. But listen, I owe you big-time. Not just for this superb dinner, but for all the sweet things you do. How about I take you out to dinner this Saturday night? I’ll make a reservation at High Cotton.”
“Fancy,” she said. High Cotton was one of the trendiest, foodiest restaurants in all of Charleston.
“Only the best,” he said.
“You’re sure you have to leave?”
“I’m afraid so.”
But when Theodosia walked Riley to the door and snuggled up against him, it was a good several minutes before he actually left.
* * *
Theodosia cleared the dessert plates from the table and walked into the kitchen. Looked at the clock on the wall. Nine fifteen. Still early enough to take Earl Grey out for a run. She hurriedly cleaned up the detritus from her cooking, put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher, then ran upstairs to change. She put on a black hoodie, gray jogging pants, and her New Balance running shoes and snapped a leash on Earl Grey, who started to dance in anticipation. Then they went out the back door, through the gate, and headed down the alley. Running past the Granville Mansion next door, Theodosia looked up to see if Joe Adler had moved in yet. But the place looked completely dark. Nobody home.
Was Joe Adler out sampling Charleston’s nightlife? Sipping a cabernet at Bin 152? Or eating charbroiled oysters at Leon’s Oyster Shop? Maybe. Probably. On the other hand, she could have sworn she saw a pair of curtains move in one of the upstairs bedrooms.
Down the block they ran, and into the heart of Charleston’s Historic District. Here were large homes built by Charleston’s founding fathers, homes that had withstood wars, hurricanes, good fortune and bad. Homes that had entertained presidents, foreign dignitaries, old-name families, and newcomers as well.
Theodosia loved this part of town. It was gorgeous, charming, and still communicated a sort of Southern gravitas. Down every street, old-fashioned wrought-iron lamps with glass globes glowed like rosary beads. Historic brass markers announced the lineage of many of the homes. And if you ducked down the many tangles of narrow alleys and hidden walkways, you’d discover lush gardens overgrown with palm trees, magnolia, and jessamine, often accented with statuary, reflecting ponds, and pattering fountains.
Theodosia could hear the mournful toot of a tugboat over on Charleston Harbor a few blocks away. A gentle mist had begun to steal in, rendering everything in soft focus and creating a kind of dreamworld.
They’d run a good twelve blocks or so when Theodosia realized they’d just passed the Saracen Inn, where most of the cast and crew were staying. Which immediately brought her thoughts back to Andrea. The girl had seemed edgy and nervous this morning when she’d spoken to her. Or, Theodosia wondered, had she completely misread Andrea’s emotions—had she actually been fearful? Did Andrea know something but was afraid to tell the police? Had she been that little mouse in the corner who’d seen what happened to Josh Morrow? Andrea had been sitting at the tea table across from Theodosia that dreadful morning, and she’d been facing the camera…as well as Josh Morro.
Maybe if I approached Andrea a little more carefully, I could get her to open up?
Theodosia gave a tug on Earl Grey’s leash, turned, and headed back to the Saracen Inn. She’d once catered a tea here, so she knew the owners, as well as most of the managers. In fact…
Across a small lobby furnished with cocoa-colored leather sofas and Indian dhurrie rugs, she spotted Robert Jefferson Kay, the night manager. Known as Bobby Kay to all of his friends.
“Hey, Bobby Kay,” Theodosia sang out in greeting. “How’ve you been?”
Bobby Kay was a tall, thin, redheaded guy with a mask of freckles over almost translucent skin. He’d started as a bellhop at the Saracen Inn and had worked his way up to general manager.
“Not too bad, Theo,” Kay said. “I hear you’re working with the movie people we’ve got staying here.”
“Mostly handling their craft services table.”
When Kay gave her a questioning look, she added, “You know, snacks and stuff. Munchies for the cast and crew.”
“Ah, got it. Sounds like fun.” Then, realizing what he’d just said, he colored slightly and added, “Except for the murder.”
“That was…unfortunate,” Theodosia said.
“But I hear things are back on track with a new director?”
“Seem to be.” Theodosia paused. “I stopped by to have a word with Andrea Blair, one of the actresses. Do you know if she’s in?”
“Should be,” Kay said. He turned to his young assistant and said, “Jason, what room is Andrea Blair staying in?”
Jason hit a few keys and peered at his computer screen. “She’s in room 401.”
“Fourth floor,” Kay said. “What we call our Tower Suites. There are only two rooms up there but both are over-the-top charming. That’s if you don’t mind climbing all those stairs.”
“Good exercise,” Theodosia said. “Okay to take the dog?”
“Dogs aren’t generally allowed,” said Kay. “But who’s looking? Besides, I’m off in five minutes.”
