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“You mean Carly was trying to flush out the real killer?” Drayton asked.
“For all I know, Carly’s working with the police.”
“If she is, do you think you can pry any details out of Riley?”
“All I can do is try.”
* * *
When Theodosia arrived home, a piece of paper fluttered from her back door. Figuring it was a menu from some nearby takeout restaurant, she pulled it off and started to crumple it. But when she stepped inside where the light was better, she discovered it was something else entirely. It was a page torn from a book and Theodosia recognized it as the final stanza of Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Lake.”
Heart starting to blip uncomfortably, she read the words:
Death was in that poisonous wave,
And in its gulf a fitting grave
For him who thence could solace bring
To him lone imagining—
Whose solitary soul could make
An Eden of that dim lake.
What the heck?
Theodosia read it again. Was someone trying to scare her? Or send her a coded message? Or was it just plain nonsense?
I think I can rule out nonsense.
Okay then, what? Still pondering the who and the why, Theodosia clipped a leash to Earl Grey’s collar and walked him outside. The moon was riding high in the night sky and a breeze had sprung up. It was tinged with just the faintest hint of salt from the Atlantic and the sweet scent of purple Chinese wisteria that hung freely over nearby fences. A heady combination.
As Theodosia and Earl Grey walked down the alley, her mind was doing its runaway thing. Worrying, wondering, thinking about the two murders, concerned over the strange poem, turning every last bit of information over and over as if polishing precious stones.
So fixated was Theodosia on her thought process, she wasn’t even aware that someone had stepped directly in front of her, silent as a ghost.
“Whoa!” Theodosia cried when she finally glanced up and skidded to a stop. At the same time Earl Grey sounded his unease with a low growl.
“Hey,” Quaid said, looking somewhat startled. Theodosia and Earl Grey had surprised him, too. “Your dog won’t bite me, will he?”
“Probably not,” Theodosia said. “As long as you remain on your best behavior.”
Quaid looked taken aback and a little angry. “Excuse me, but are you making some sort of reference about last night?”
Theodosia shrugged. “At least you weren’t arrested.”
“Because I didn’t do anything!” Quaid cried. He put up both palms, as if to deflect Theodosia’s words. “I swear to you I did not touch a hair on that woman’s head. I don’t even know her. You saw me when I showed up last night—I’d been tricked. Someone impersonating a board member sent me to that shop under false pretenses. Whoever it was wanted to make me the patsy, the fall guy. Thank goodness the police let me go when they realized I was innocent.”
“Good,” Theodosia said. “Let’s keep it that way.”
“Are you always this hypercritical?”
Theodosia smiled. “Only when it’s well-deserved.”
Quaid frowned. “Seems more like—”
“You’re living here, too?” Theodosia interrupted.
