Carefully pouring steaming water into the tiny teapots, Drayton nodded in agreement. "I know exactly how you feel. I've got to orchestrate another tea tasting, then hustle my old bones over to the Heritage Society after lunch to pick up the script Delaine left for me. Seems she doesn't own a computer, so she typed everything out at the Heritage Society."

  "Delaine wrote the narration for tomorrow's show?" asked Theodosia.

  "I'm afraid so," sighed Drayton. "Which means the script is likely to be a bit florid and flowery."

  "Delaine always did want to be a romance writer," chuckled Theodosia. "Any thoughts on a rewrite?"

  Drayton fluttered a hand to his chest and projected a look of sublime mock surprise. "Moi? Fiddle with someone's carefully penned prose?" He smiled to himself as he set a half-dozen tiny glazed Japanese teacups on the tray. Their cobalt blue, celadon green, and reddish-amber glazes glinted enticingly. "'There," he announced. "Pretty teacups and delicious teas."

  Theodosia peered at this lovely piece of handiwork. "Which Japanese green teas are you brewing?" she asked.

  "I've paired a nice bright Sencha with a slightly smoky Genmaicha, then added a Bancha blend accented with citrus flowers," Drayton told her. "Should make for an interesting tea sampler, don't you think?"

  "Drayton," said Theodosia, "it's beyond interesting, it's perfect." And Theodosia meant those words with all her heart. When it came to blending tea or creating a tea-tasting experience, Drayton seemed to possess an unerring instinct. And whether a customer was a longtime tea lover or a tea initiate, Drayton always seemed to intuitively choose the exact teas that made their tea drinking both pleasurable and memorable.

  Drayton ducked his head, obviously pleased by Theodosia's compliment. "Thank you kindly, ma'am."

  Theodosia was on her hands and knees, searching through the bottom cupboard, when Haley came swinging out of the kitchen, laden down with a large silver tray. Pausing in midstride at the sight of Theodosia half crouched on the floor, she asked, "What on earth are you doing down there?"

  "Looking for those tea candles in the tiny blue and white porcelain containers," Theodosia told her.

  Haley switched her tray from one hip to the other, kicked out her right foot to indicate the cupboard closest to her. "This cupboard," she told Theodosia. "They're in there." Theodosia retrieved the ceramics in a second.

  "I need to display those silver oyster pendants Brooke brought over," explained Theodosia, "and I thought these might work." Theodosia set a box of Chinese blue and white porcelain containers on the counter.

  "You're going to put the oyster pendants on top of the candles?" said Haley, clearly confused.

  "No," explained Theodosia. "I was going to put a tiny piece of moss atop each candle, then nestle the silver pendant on top of that."

  "Oh cool," said Haley. "I get it. The container looks like a miniature porcelain jewelry box, then when you remove the pendant, you still have the candle. Works for me."

  "Good. I was afraid you wouldn't approve," said Theodosia with a quick grin.

  "Awright, smarty," said Haley, "see if you get lunch today."

  "What's on the menu?" asked Theodosia.

  "While you were playing lady bountiful and dyeing snippets of lace and velvet in simmering vats of tea, I was sweating over a cold refrigerator," announced Haley, tipping her tray slightly for Theodosia to see. "Ta da!"

  "Oh my goodness," exclaimed Theodosia. "Country pâté?"

  "You got it," said Haley. "Served with a cup of chilled asparagus soup."

  "Heavenly," said Theodosia.

  "That's what I thought," said Haley, looking pleased. "Can I help you serve?" asked Theodosia.

  Haley gazed out across the tea room. Her first course of lemon scones had been eagerly consumed and Drayton was busy removing the used plates. It would appear that the soup and pate were ready to be served:

  "Let's do it," said Haley.

  At one-thirty Delaine's sister, Nadine, suddenly walked into the Indigo Tea Shop, turning up like the proverbial bad penny.

  Haley glanced up from where she was ringing change at the old brass cash register. "Uh, hi there, Nadine," she said somewhat awkwardly.

  Nadine flashed a hundred-watt smile that also dripped with condescension. "Hello, dear."

  "Something I can do for you?" Haley asked. One eyebrow rose slightly and quivered with disapproval. It was a little trick she'd learned from Drayton.

  "I'd like to speak with your employer," said Nadine. Shifting a straw bag embroidered with flowers and palm trees to her other arm, she gazed toward an empty table. "I shall sit down and wait for her," announced Nadine. "Could you please bring me a cup of tea?"

  "Any particular kind?" asked Haley grudgingly.

  "Surprise me," said Nadine in a flat tone.

  "Theodosia!" Haley lost no time in scrambling back to Theodosia's office. "Delaine's sister is here. She wants to talk to you."

  Theodosia, who'd been going over revisions to her web site, rose in her chair in surprise. "Nadine's here? Now?"

  "Yup," said Haley. "Acting like the queen of the May, too. Like nothing ever happened:"

  "Maybe it didn't," said Theodosia.

  Haley twisted the lower half of her face into a wry grin. "Yeah right."

  "Nadine," said Theodosia, joining Delaine's sister at the little table. "This is a surprise."

  "Hello; Theodosia," said Nadine, her voice dripping with honey. "So wonderful to see you again."

  "Can I get you something?" Theodosia asked. "A cup of tea? A scone?"

  "Your girl was going to bring me a cup of tea," said Nadine. "Lord knows where she's run off to."

  "She's right here," snapped Haley, setting the tea down in front of Nadine. "Care for lemon? Or sugar?"

  "Nothing, thank you," said Nadine as Haley flounced off.

  She took a quick sip of tea, then focused large, liquid eyes on Theodosia.

  "Theodosia, Delaine and I are desperately in need of your help."

  Oh Lord, thought Theodosia, feeling a slight prickle of panic. What's this going to be about?

  "Nadine," she said. "What's wrong?"

  Placing both hands flat on the table, Nadine cocked her head to one side in a piteous gesture. "Everything!"

  "Tell me," urged Theodosia. If this was about the shoplifting charge, maybe she could call Detective Tidwell and somehow convince him to pull some strings.

  "Lillian Lee Burton is a no-show," moaned Nadine. Theodosia stared at her. Who on earth is Lillian Lee Burton? And what's this about a no-show?

  Nadine continued with her cryptic delivery. "Lillian Lee was a size ten."

  Theodosia was beginning to get an inkling of what this conversation was really about. "She was a size ten," Theodosia repeated.

  "Yes," said Nadine. "Lord knows, I'd wear the shantung silk top and slacks, but I'm an eight. Plus I'm already modeling the power suit and the floral slip dress."

  Tension that had gripped Theodosia's chest suddenly released. "This is about the fashion show tomorrow," she said. Nadine sipped at her tea. "Yes. Of course. What did you think it was?"

  "Nadine, exactly what is it you want?" asked Theodosia. "Why are you here?"

  Nadine gazed up with a hurt expression. Obviously, she wasn't used to having questions fired at her point blank. "To implore your help, of course," replied Nadine. "Delaine was positive you'd want to pinch-hit for Lillian Lee. I mean, you two are best friends."

  Are Delaine and I best friends? wondered Theodosia. Hmm, the jury might still be out on that one. And after sending her sister in on this little reconnaissance caper, the jury might be out for quite some time.

  "Delaine wants me to model an outfit in tomorrow's show," said Theodosia. It was a statement, not a question.

  "Yes," gasped Nadine, as though her request had been a deep, dark secret, and the fact that Theodosia now understood it was a huge relief to her.

  Model a dress, thought Theodosia. Finish the tea baskets, package Brooke's oyster pendants, finish up here at the tea shop, huddle with Drayton and tell him about Lawrence March, help decorate tomorrow morning. Got a lot on my plate.

  "Since tomorrow's Fashion Bash is a fund-raiser for the Heritage Society, Delaine was positive you'd want first crack at modeling," said Nadine, suddenly smiling brightly.

  "All right," said Theodosia reluctantly. "Tell her I'll do it."

  “You can tell her yourself," chirped Nadine. "She wants you to stop by the store for a fitting."

  "Right now?" sighed Theodosia: It would have to be now.

  "Oh, absolutely," said Nadine. "In fact, it's quite imperative. You see, that particular outfit hasn't even been accessorized yet. I do hope this isn't inconvenient for you."

  Theodosia glanced about the tea shop. Only three tables were occupied right now and the customers all seemed settled in with tea and afternoon treats. "Let me run back to the kitchen and check with Haley," Theodosia told Nadine.

  "Of course, dear," said Nadine sweetly. "I'll be waiting."

  "Go," Haley told her. "It's not that busy. I can handle things."

  "Okay," said Theodosia slowly. "But maybe I'll wait until Drayton returns. It feels like I've been leaving you in the lurch all week long."

  "Not a problem," said Haley. "Besides, you've had a lot on your mind."

  "We all have," said Theodosia.

  Gathering up her long white apron, Haley wiped bits of dough from her hands. "Can you believe it's only been a week since we discovered Harper Fisk's body? Since you discovered it."

  "And we haven't come any closer to figuring out what happened to the poor man," said Theodosia. "I feel awful about that."

  "Good heavens, Theo," said Haley. "It's not that you haven't tried. It's just that ... well, maybe this is one mystery that will have to remain unsolved."

  "Not if I can help it;" said Theodosia as she pushed her way back through the green velvet curtain into the tea room. She was resolved to keep at this, no matter how long it took. "Nadine," said Theodosia.

  Nadine had abandoned her place at the table and was now standing in front of the counter, admiring Brooke Carter Crocket's silver oyster pendants. Theodosia had laid all the handmade silver pieces out on a piece of indigo blue tissue paper, until she could run next door to Floradora and cadge a bit of moss from Hattie Boatwright.

  "These necklaces are beautiful," Nadine crooned. "So whimsical and delightful."

  "Yes, aren't they?" said Theodosia in a matter-of-fact voice. "Tell Delaine I'll be over in a half hour, will you?"

  Nadine turned sad eyes on Theodosia. "You can't come right now?"

  “I'll be a half hour at the most," said Theodosia, grasping Nadine's elbow and walking her to the door. "And tell your sister I'm delighted to help."

  "You're delighted, really?" asked Nadine.

  "Absolutely," said Theodosia, thrusting a hand behind her back and crossing her fingers.

  "I thought she'd never leave," moaned Haley. "Plus she's always so snotty to me. Of course she gets this phony attitude of sweetness and honey whenever you show up," complained Haley.

  "I know she does," said Theodosia. "Don't worry about it. She's going back to New York on Monday."

  "Well, good riddance," fumed Haley. She stared down at the counter. "What the . . . ?" she began

  “Something wrong?" asked Theodosia.

  "Didn't Brooke bring over four pendants?" asked Haley. "Four. Yes, that's right."

  "Well, there's only three here now."

  "You're kidding," said Theodosia. The two women stared at each other. "She wouldn't dare . . ." began Theodosia.

  "I think she did dare," said Haley, her eyes widening in alarm.

  "Oh no," said Theodosia, pawing through the tissue paper and sliding around the blue and white ceramic jars that sat atop the counter. But Haley was right. There were only three pendants on the counter now.

  "Can you believe the nerve of that woman?" wailed Haley. "I've got half a mind to march over to Delaine's store and rummage through Nadine's purse."

  "Unfortunately, the law won't allow you to do that," said Theodosia.

  "What if I phone Detective Tidwell and ask him to come over here?" Haley shook her head angrily. "Whew! And I don't even like the man!"

  "What unfortunate devil is bearing the brunt of your wrath now, Miss Parker?" asked Drayton as he came up behind them. He'd obviously walked down the back alley, then slipped in the back door that led through Theodosia's off-ice.

  "We think Delaine's sister just stole one of Brooke's pendants," said Theodosia.

  Drayton's lined face crumpled into a look of concern. "Oh no," he said. "Are you quite positive?"

  "Nadine was standing right here and now one of the pendants is missing," said Haley. "That's pretty cut and dried in my book."

  Drayton glanced at Theodosia. "Theo?" he said, cocking his head at her.

  "It doesn't look good," Theodosia admitted.

  An hour later, when all the customers had departed and Haley was busy sweeping the floor, Theodosia and Drayton continued to ponder what Drayton had now dubbed The Case of the Missing Mollusk

  "Do you really think she made off with it?" asked Drayton.

  "Probably," admitted Theodosia. "Or maybe she just decided to borrow it."

  "Either way, it's a good thing she's going home soon," said Drayton. "This could lead to some very sticky problems."

  "Did you pick up tomorrow's script?" asked Theodosia, eager to change the subject. What with all the excitement, she'd almost forgotten why Drayton went dashing off to the Heritage Society.

  "I got the script plus something even better," said Drayton with a twinkle in his gray eyes.

  "What's that?" asked Theodosia.

  Drayton dug in the pocket of his tan slacks for a moment then, with a flourish, held up an old brass key.

  "A key," said Theodosia. "Don't tell me the Heritage Society finally changed their outmoded locks."

  "No, no, no," said Drayton. "Timothy's far too parsimonious for that. But I'll tell you something, Theodosia. This isn't just any key I have clutched in my hand. This happens to be the key to Harper Fisk's house!"

  "No!" said Theodosia, her face suddenly breaking into a delighted grin.

  "Yes!" said Drayton, pleased he'd been able to get such a rise out of her.

  "How on earth did you get it?" asked Theodosia in a hushed voice.

  "You're not going to believe this," said Drayton, "but the circumstances were incredibly simple if not downright fortuitous. Timothy Neville has actually had this key in his possession for several years."

  "Whoa. Explain please," urged Theodosia.

  "Judas Priest," said Drayton with a crooked smile.

  "Drayton!" said Theodosia, lifting an eyebrow.

  "No, no," said Drayton. "Harper Fisk had a cat. An old orange tabby cat by the name of Judas Priest. The cat's been dead almost a year now, but apparently Harper Fisk had given this house key to Timothy so he could run down the block and feed Judas Priest whenever Harper was out of town."

  Theodosia gazed at Drayton in utter disbelief. It was hard to imagine Timothy Neville, the very patrician-looking, somewhat cranky director of the Heritage Society, creeping into someone's home bearing a can of Fancy Feast.

  "So how did you get the key from Timothy?" asked Theodosia.

  "I happened to mention to Timothy that Harper Fisk's will seemed to be unequivocally locked in a frozen harddrive."

  "And ..."

  "Timothy, good man that he is, fumbled around in his desk for a few minutes and produced said key," finished Drayton.

  "Just like that? He didn't have a problem with your entering Harper Fisk's house?"

  "Apparently not. Timothy was quite cognizant of Harper's intentions to will some of his antiques to the Heritage Society, so he probably just assumed that same information could be gleaned from papers stored in Harper Fisk's house." Drayton paused. "And since Timothy had already been granted access, I'm sure he viewed that as tacit approval for me to go ahead in."

  "And it is, isn't it?" said Theodosia hopefully, almost gleefully.

  Drayton rolled his eyes. "Darned if I know, but I'm not about to telephone the Heritage Society's high-priced attorneys and run it by them. It's been my sad experience that attorneys always say no."

  Theodosia thought about Jory Davis. What would his approval rating be if he knew they were seriously considering a look-see inside Harper Fisk's house? As Summer Sullivan's attorney of record, he'd say absolutely not, stay out. Let this play out in legal proceedings. So ... was she going to run this by him? Nope. No way.

  "I've got lots to tell you, Drayton," said Theodosia.

  "About Lawrence March and the maps in his office and . . ." She stopped and grinned at him crazily. "But first, we better decide if we're really going to use that key tonight."

  "Absolutely we are," said Drayton. "We owe it to Harper."

  "Good. What time then?"

  Drayton considered this. "Let's say nine o'clock. We'll meet in Saint Philips Cemetery by the veep's grave," said Drayton, referring to the grave of John C. Calhoun, former statesman and vice president of the United States. "Then we'll cut through Gateway Walk and pop out on Archdale Street."

  Theodosia gave a shiver. Gateway Walk was a treeshrouded pathway that would take them on a ramble through four different churchyards filled with old marble tombstones. A little creepy, to be sure, but a good way to cut through the neighborhood if you didn't want to be seen. "You're on," she told him.

  CHAPTER 21

  TENDRILS OF FOG swirled around giant live oaks and crumbling gravestones as Theodosia hurried along the uneven cobblestone walk. An unexpected pocket of cooler air had pushed down from the north and collided with the warm air that hung over Charleston. The ensuing fog muffled footsteps, formed eerie halos around old-fashioned street lamps, and lent a spooky, soft focus quality to just about everything else.

  "Psst, over here," came a whispered voice.

  Theodosia relaxed. Drayton's already here, waiting for me. Bless him.

  "Hey, Drayton," she called. Tension had been building up inside her, and Theodosia was surprised at how relieved she was to hear the sound of his voice.

  "Shhh." Drayton emerged from behind the Calhoun monument with a finger to his mouth. "There are still a few people around," he told her.

 

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