Shades of Earl Grey

“Sit a moment, will you?” he invited. “Join me?”

She turned back to the counter, grabbed the first teacup she could lay her hands on, a Delvaux porcelain. She balanced it atop a Spode muffin plate, another antique piece from her collection, and went back to join Tidwell at his table. Sliding into the chair across from him, she watched as Tidwell poured out a stream of the pale amber tea into her teacup first, then his.

“This is nice,” he said with another quick twitch of a smile.

She wasn’t sure if Tidwell was referring to her company or the tea. It didn’t really matter. The sentiment didn’t feel genuine.

“You’ve been busy,” Tidwell began. His large fingers skittered across the plate of madelaines, stopped on one, gathered it up.

This time she knew exactly what he was referring to. And it had nothing to do with the increase in business at her tea shop.

“Saint Anne’s Hospital the other night. Not a smart thing to do,” he told her. Tidwell cocked a furry eyebrow, waited for a response.

That man can convey reproach with just the quiver of an eyebrow, Theodosia marveled to herself. How must a true criminal feel when Tidwell focuses his beady-eyed gaze upon them? Nervous, probably. That’s when they know the jig is up.

“I wasn’t aware I had to obtain your permission in order to visit people in the hospital,” Theodosia told him, her manner deliberately cool.

“Visitation is not what I was referring to,” said Tidwell. “Far be it from me to criticize you and your canine friend from bringing cheer to small, needful children. I was referring to the fact that you gave chase to someone.” Tidwell took a sip of tea, then gave her yet another look of stern reproach. “I warned you not to get involved.”

“I wasn’t involved,” said Theodosia. “I went into a hospital room to pay a visit. It wasn’t my fault someone was lurking there. I wasn’t looking for trouble.”

Now Tidwell fixed her with a steady gaze. “I get the feeling, Miss Browning, that you don’t ever go looking for trouble. It comes calling on you.” His eyes bore into her. Then, just as quickly, flicked down to scan the plate. His fingers convulsed, but he did not reach for a second madelaine.

“Detective Tidwell,” Theodosia began, “have you been able to look into the incident at the Lady Goodwood Inn? The break-in that led to the death of poor Captain Buchanan?”

“Ah, change of subject,” said Tidwell. “Very well, it was done politely. Not the most graceful segue in the world, but adequate.” He leaned back in his chair, hunched his shoulders, and crooked his head to the left, as though trying to dislodge a kink from his thick neck.

“I carefully reviewed the investigation report that Officers Gallier and Delehanty filed on the so-called break- in at the Lady Goodwood Inn. They did, in fact, check the roof and the various access points to it for fingerprints as well as signs of a disturbance. None were found.” He paused. “I stand corrected—on one of the remaining panes of glass in the ceiling, they found fingerprints belonging to one of the maintenance men. A Mr. Harry Kreider.”

Harry Kreider, thought Theodosia. That was the man she’d spoken with that awful night, the one who’d lent her the ladder. He certainly wasn’t a viable suspect in her mind.

“So it’s a dead end,” said Theodosia. Frowning slightly, she reached for one of the madelaines, took a bite, chewed absently.

“It was never going anywhere to begin with,” said Tidwell. He gazed at her, saw her apparent distress. “I’m sorry,” he added, tempering his tone. “I don’t mean to be so rude. It was a game try, you made a good guess.”

Theodosia exhaled slowly. No, she decided, it was more than a guess on her part. It was a... what was it, exactly? A feeling? A visceral intuition that the two incidents were connected?

Tidwell was watching her closely, trying to get a read on her by using his natural instincts. She dropped her voice so Brooke and Aerin, sitting at the nearby table, wouldn’t hear her. “Let me ask you about something,” said Theodosia. She picked up her teacup, took a deliberate sip.

Tidwell continued to watch her expectantly.

“Other thefts in the historic district,” she said as she balanced her cup on the muffin plate. “Have you heard of any?”

“Nearly half a dozen.”

A loud crash sounded at her feet. Startled, Theodosia looked down to see the teacup and plate she’d been holding just moments earlier lying in smithereens on the floor. Without thinking, she bent down to pick up one of the pieces, immediately came away with a cut.

“Miss Browning,” said Tidwell, reaching for her arm, gently pulling it back. “Do be careful.” He looked into her eyes, saw what he took to be bewilderment and confusion. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to startle or upset you in any way. Please do believe me.”

In that same instant, Brooke Carter Crockett had jumped up from her seat at the table and now stood next to Theodosia, surveying the damage. “Oh, no,” she mourned, gazing down at the shattered china. “Were they good pieces?”

Theodosia blinked back tears. Silly, she thought to herself, it’s only a plate and teacup. Lots more where that came from. “The teacup, a Delvaux, it... was my mother’s,” she replied. She reached down again, but Haley was suddenly there with a broom and dust pan.

“Careful, Theo,” Haley warned. “Those little shards are awfully sharp.” She swept the larger pieces into the dust pan, went over the floor again to try to collect the smaller pieces. “These pegged floors are terrible,” she complained. “Every little thing gets caught down in the cracks. I’m going to have to bring out the vacuum sweeper.”

“Later, Haley, okay?” said Theodosia. She glanced at her watch. “We’ll be closing in an hour or so anyway. Just let it go till then.”

Haley, a compulsive cleaner and neat-nik, wasn’t pleased with what she viewed as a huge delay in putting things right. But she backed off anyway.

Tidwell rose suddenly from his chair. “Sorry if I caused you any distress,” he said. “I just found out about this so-called rash of robberies myself a few hours ago. Very strange.”

A half-dozen other robberies, Theodosia thought to herself. Not good. Not good at all.

“That’s all right,” said Theodosia, still feeling slightly distracted. “And this is my treat,” she added when she saw him reach into his jacket pocket for his wallet. “Sorry to have been so clumsy.” And she hurried off after Haley.

“Are you okay?” asked Drayton. He was ferrying empty teapots and teacups from the various tables. For some reason, the Indigo Tea Shop had cleared out rather suddenly. “You’re white as a sheet,” he told her.

Theodosia slid in behind the counter. She put a hand to her heart and found it was beating like crazy. “There have been other robberies,” she hissed at Drayton.

“What?” He stared at her crazily.

“Tidwell just told me. A half-dozen other robberies!”

“Good lord. In the historic district?”

Theodosia nodded.

“Hey,” said Haley as she emerged from the kitchen with a cardboard take-out carton in her hands. “What’s with you two?”

“Tidwell delivered some fairly earth-shattering news,” said Drayton.

“I gathered that,” said Haley, glancing over to the spot where she just knew some tiny shards were still wedged between the floorboards.

“There have been other thefts,” said Drayton in a low voice.

“Holy cow,” said Haley. “A lot?” Now he really had her attention.

“A half-dozen or so. Plus Camille’s wedding ring and the necklace at the Heritage Society,” replied Drayton.

Haley shook her head. “Right under our noses. Imagine that.”