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“Oh, holy Hannah,” he cried. “You almost hit the devil!”
32
The devil was indeed a devil. A bronze statue of a devil playing a violin that had stood at the far end of Stoll’s Alley for decades. He was not a frightening devil, more like a longtime guardian whose head had been buffed to a high gleam by the many tourists who’d walked past him, been fascinated by his presence, and given him a pat and a polish.
Explaining their situation to the police? Now that was a devil of a time for Theodosia. The surprised resident’s 911 call brought two police cruisers screaming in. And once Theodosia related their peculiar circumstances to those officers, Detectives Tidwell and Riley were immediately called to the scene.
In his blue FBI T-shirt and baggy pants, Tidwell surveyed the stuck SUV and its captive inhabitants. Then he rocked back on his heels, turned to Theodosia, and said, “You did this?”
“Kind of,” she said. “But mostly it was Drayton’s idea.”
Tidwell surveyed a bedraggled Drayton, who’d climbed off the motorcycle and was standing there, looking a bit winded, and said, “Nice suit.” Both pockets on Drayton’s jacket were missing.
“Say now,” Drayton said, his brows puckering together.
Theodosia tried to defuse the situation by telling Detective Tidwell their saga of going to the Sea Witch, calling Usher, and making a tentative connection concerning stolen marine artifacts. And then she had to repeat a good part of it once Riley showed up.
“And how exactly did you end up here?” Tidwell asked as Riley stared at her with something akin to fascination.
So Theodosia related the second part of their story, starting with the search at the boat docks, then concluding with their capture, escape, and wild motorcycle chase.
“So you see,” Theodosia explained, “it was Lewin Usher and his henchman who killed Josh Morro and Helene Deveroux. And it was all on account of valuable marine artifacts.”
“And where are these so-called artifacts now?” Riley asked, looking a little shaken. He was still getting used to the fact that Theodosia and Drayton had led two dangerous felons on a life-and-death chase through Charleston’s Historic District, then had the presence of mind to lure them into the narrow alley and mousetrap them.
“Some of the artifacts are being stored in the Granville Mansion right next to me, some are at Usher’s storage locker in North Charleston,” Theodosia said.
“You know where that storage locker might be?” Tidwell asked.
Theodosia glanced over at the SUV, where Lewin Usher, red-faced and angry, still battered at his windshield from inside, like a moth trapped in a jar. “No,” she said. “But I bet Usher is about ready to make a deal with you.”
Then a shiny red van with a satellite dish on top and the letters W-BAM painted on the side screeched to a halt. Ken Lotter jumped out, followed by his cameraman. The cameraman immediately switched on his light and began recording.
“What have we got? What happened?” Lotter cried. He was wild-eyed and excited as he stuck a microphone in Tidwell’s face, where it was immediately swatted away. Lotter looked at the trapped SUV, then turned to Theodosia and said, “You did this?”
“You might say I’m partially responsible,” Theodosia said.
“No,” Tidwell said. “Go ahead, take all the credit.”
“Say now,” Lotter said. “That guy in the SUV—isn’t he one of the producers for that movie, Dark Fortunes?” When nobody answered, he said, “This is about those two movie murders, isn’t it?” He was jumping up and down with excitement.
“We’ll be calling a press conference in the morning,” Tidwell said.
“We gotta get some of this footage for the eleven o’clock,” Lotter cried to his cameraman. “Keep shooting. Get as much as you can. Any video of this wedged car is golden. It’s gonna send our ratings sky-high.”
Tidwell watched as Lotter and his cameraman danced around the stuck SUV, trying to interview the two angry men inside. Then, bemused, he reached up and scratched his head. “We’re definitely going to need a tow truck—if we can even get one in there.”
“Going to be a tight squeeze,” Theodosia said.
“Or we could call the fire department for one of their hydraulic tools that cuts and spreads metal,” Tidwell said. “You know, the jaws of life.”
“Such a shame to ruin a nice vehicle like that,” Riley said as he stared at the hopelessly wedged Lexus.
“Has to be done,” Tidwell said. “It’s probably totaled anyway.”
Riley sidled over to Theodosia and said, “What I want to know is—what made you decide to trap those two clowns in Stoll’s Alley?”
“It was Drayton’s quick thinking,” Theodosia said.
Riley turned toward Drayton. “How’d you get the idea to turn in here like that?”
Drayton flashed an impish grin. “You might say the devil made me do it.”
