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Theodosia thought about this as she tidied up her kitchen, then took Earl Grey out for a short walk. The evening air was still warm as they tromped down her back alley, headed over toward the Cooper River, and watched a cruise ship, lights glittering, pull into one of the mammoth docks.
Back home and upstairs in her bedroom, Theodosia wondered about all the people who’d been on set today—the witnesses. But there had to be one stone-cold killer among them, right? One person with a motive, a person who hated Josh Morro or needed to get rid of him permanently. She took a shower, read a few chapters from a new Susan Wittig Albert book, and thought about Morro’s murder some more. Finally, she climbed into bed and drifted off to sleep—with images of darkened movie sets, threatening tea leaf fortunes, and red-hot sparking chairs spinning in her head.
4
Drayton faced Theodosia from behind the front counter of the Indigo Tea Shop. He was perfectly turned out this Tuesday morning in a Harris Tweed jacket, dove gray slacks, highly polished Church’s shoes, and his trademark bow tie. Today his Drake’s tie was a punchy canary yellow.
“We have to tell Haley about the murder yesterday,” Drayton said in a low voice. Haley was their young cook, baker, and occupant (with her orange-and-brown cat, Teacake) of the upstairs apartment.
“Agreed,” Theodosia responded. “But we’ve got to go easy. You know how sensitive she is.”
“Who’s sensitive?” Haley called out as she emerged from the kitchen, kitted out in her white chef’s jacket and toque, and carrying a baking tray heaped with slices of lemon bread and orange-walnut scones. The aromas ranged somewhere between delightful and heavenly.
“Oops,” Drayton said.
Haley studied him. “What were you talking about? What are you talking about?”
“There’s been a bit of a tragedy,” Drayton said in hushed tones.
“A death occurred on the movie set yesterday,” Theodosia said.
“Oh that,” Haley said. “Josh Morro.” She shook back her curtain of long blond hair and wrinkled her pert nose. “Yeah, I already know about it.” She set her tray of baked goods down on the counter nonchalantly.
“You do?” Drayton said. “How?”
“Who told you?” Theodosia asked.
“Your friend Delaine Dish stopped by the tea shop late yesterday afternoon. She’d just gotten word about the film director’s death and was wondering if you and Drayton had made it back here yet. When I told her no, she got that weird look on her face—you know the look…”
Theodosia nodded. She knew it well. You could always tell when Delaine Dish was bursting with news, good or bad. She pursed her lips and assumed a kind of pickle face. Dill, not sweet. Still, as a member of the Charleston Film Board—and the one who’d set them up with their catering gig—Delaine had good reason to be worried about Morro’s strange death.
Haley stepped closer and threw them a questioning look. “Yesterday. Was it very bad?”
“Hideous,” Drayton said.
“It’s always a tragedy when someone is killed,” Theodosia said.
“Not just killed, murdered,” Haley said, putting a special emphasis on the last word.
“Yes, and the police are on top of it,” Theodosia said. “They’re questioning everyone involved and I have high hopes they’ll come up with a suspect or two very shortly.”
Haley shifted from one foot to another. “What about you?” she asked. “You’ve earned a kind of reputation as Charleston’s own Nancy Drew. Plus, you were right there in the mix. What do you think?”
When Theodosia hesitated, Drayton spoke up and said, “Theodosia thinks, as do I, that we should put yesterday’s unfortunate circumstances on the back burner for the time being. We need to get cracking and make sure our tea shop is organized and ready to go. Since we weren’t here yesterday, I’m sure there’s been some serious disorganization.”
“No way,” Haley said. “Not in my kitchen and certainly not in the tea shop. In fact, we managed quite well. Miss Dimple was here to help serve and so was Beth Ann.”
Miss Dimple was their bookkeeper-slash-part-time-server and Beth Ann was Haley’s cousin from nearby Goose Creek who’d been tapped to work as a server this week.
“In fact, Beth Ann should be here any minute,” Haley said.
“Great,” Theodosia said, glancing about the tea shop she’d lovingly crafted. And even though she’d been gone for one whole entire day, the Indigo Tea Shop had seemingly withstood total collapse. In fact, the heart pine floors fairly gleamed, tables were carefully arranged, and Drayton’s floor-to-ceiling shelves of tea tins looked decidedly organized.
“What’s on the menu for morning tea?” Drayton asked.
“Oh,” said Haley. “My lemon bread and orange-walnut scones and then some apple spice muffins and banana bread for later.” She gave a mischievous grin. “With everything late-summer ripe for the picking from surrounding orchards it looks to be a fruit-filled week.”
“Let us hope it’s also fruitful,” Drayton added.
