Shades of Earl Grey

detachment.

After all, it was her niece who had been engaged to Captain Buchanan. And the tragic accident had occurred at the engagement party she had thrown!

They had looked at her with accusing faces. Did they not know she felt positively tortured by the terrible circumstances? How could she ever forget what had happened? How could anyone forget?

As if the death of Captain Buchanan wasn’t enough of a tragedy, the issue of the missing ring had also been a sore point. She’d been informed by one of the Buchanans that they had been in contact with the Charleston Police Department and were awaiting a complete report on the accident.

Thank goodness the entire Buchanan clan seemed to believe the whole thing had been an accident! Delaine thought to herself. A tragic accident that could be chalked up to an old greenhouse and an unfortunate lightning strike.

But the whole time she’d been in Savannah, the conversation she’d had with Drayton and Theodosia had spun hopelessly about in her head, playing like an endless loop on a VCR. She recalled their hunch, their supposition, that someone could have come crashing through the old greenhouse roof and landed squarely atop Captain Buchanan’s head.

There were about a million times during the visitation, the funeral service, and the sad reception afterward when she felt she’d simply burst with this knowledge. There were a thousand times when she thought she should just sit down and share these terrible suspicions with Captain Buchanan’s family.

But then what?

Then she’d have to prove everything. Maybe they’d even expect her to try to find the person responsible. And bring them to justice!

Delaine touched her right hand to her temple as if the very thought was enough to trigger a migraine.

She couldn’t resolve any of this mess. Of course not. There was no way she could ever accomplish that type of Herculean task.

But Delaine had the proverbial ace in the hole. Theodosia and Drayton had searched high and low for the missing wedding ring and, in so doing, had become intrigued by the mystery of its disappearance.

Especially Theodosia. She had an adventuresome heart and a fearless soul, Delaine reminded herself. And Theodosia commanded the ear of Burt Tidwell, one of Charleston’s finest detectives!

Thank goodness!

Tidwell, bless his snoopy, inquisitive little heart, had stopped by her shop this morning. Early, just after she’d first arrived, before she could even steam the wrinkles from that new line of hand-knit sweater jackets and get them out on the floor. Tidwell had pussyfooted around a bit, asking her this and that. Inquiring whether she remembered anything unusual, asking about any strangers hanging around that terrible night, and did she know the waiters who had worked the party?

Of course she hadn’t. But Tidwell’s probing had stirred in her a germ of an idea. And given her a ray of hope.

If Theodosia had been guardedly persuasive in her argument about a possible intruder—and now Burt Tidwell was snooping around—then there must be something to it!

Of course, Theodosia was completely convinced that Burt Tidwell hated her. That Tidwell regarded her as a bit of an airhead.

Delaine knew that nothing could be further from the truth. She’d seen the way Burt Tidwell looked at Theodosia Browning.

Not because he had any silly romantic notions. Oh no. Absolutely not. Burt Tidwell was far too professional for that. But Tidwell did admire Theodosia, did respect her thoughts and opinions. Valued her keen intelligence and remarkable intuition.

Which meant Burt Tidwell might just go out of his way to help her.

Delaine clutched her buttercup yellow cashmere cardigan around her as though it were protective garb. No, she couldn’t venture to dream of getting to the bottom of this all by herself. But if she enlisted Theodosia’s aid, really encouraged her to keep investigating, then... then she just might have a fighting chance.

“Delaine, you’re back from the funeral.” Haley stood holding a green Staffordshire teapot, pouring a stream of amber tea into white take-out cups.

Delaine smiled a sad smile, touched a delicately manicured finger to her lips in a gesture that said shoosh. Then, choosing the small table closest to the counter, she slid quietly into a chair. “I don’t really want to talk about it with everyone in the place,” she told Haley. “I’m keeping a low profile for now.”

“Theodosia and Drayton have been worried about you,” continued Haley. “We all have.” Gee, Haley thought to herself, this is one bristly lady when she wants to be. And what’s this low-profile stuff? Delaine has never kept a low profile in her life!

“But I would like to speak with Theo and Drayton,” she told Haley. Delaine glanced down at the bare wooden table as though she expected to find a teacup, linen napkin, and silverware all set up for her. “Just a cup of black tea this morning, dear. Irish breakfast tea.”

“Sure thing,” said Haley.

“How was the funeral?” asked Theodosia. Sitting in her office, she had heard Delaine’s voice and immediately come out to speak with her.

Delaine plucked a handkerchief from her leather bag and daubed at her eyes. “Heartbreaking. Captain Buchanan’s mother and sisters never stopped crying for one instant.”

“Oh, no,” said Theodosia as she slipped into the chair across from Delaine.

“At the church, they had poor Captain Corey’s casket covered with an American flag and a military honor guard standing by. The service was very somber, of course, and his brother read a poem by Walt Whitman. I think it was In Paths Untrodden. Afterwards, the honor guard escorted the casket out of the church to the cemetery. After the minister said his final words, they fired a twenty-one-gun salute. Then a lone bugler played taps. Such a mournful sound.”

Theodosia nodded. On the few occasions she’d attended military funerals, the playing of taps at the end had always seemed so sad and lonely. The bugler’s haunting notes a signal that the service was over, the deceased committed to the earth for eternity.

“What’s Camille going to do now?” asked Haley.

Delaine glanced down at her wrist nervously and Theodosia noticed she wasn’t wearing her usual jewel- encrusted Chopard watch. Probably left it at home for the funeral. Too showy.

“She’s going to stay in Savannah for a while,” said Delaine. “Captain Corey’s sister, Lindsey Buchanan, runs a travel agency and Camille is going to work for her.”

“That’s nice,” said Theodosia.

“It will give everyone a chance to heal,” said Delaine. “Hopefully.” Delaine reached for her teacup, finally took a sip of tea. “So sad,” she murmured. “I was going through a few things at my shop late yesterday afternoon, after I got back. And I came across Camille’s wedding veil.” Tears welled up in Delaine’s eyes and threatened to spill down her flawless pink cheeks. “The base of the veil was this tiny little feathery cap, like something a ballerina might wear if she were going to dance Swan Lake. So pretty and feminine, with just a bit of dainty lace in front.”

“When did you get back from Savannah?” asked Theodosia, eager to guide Delaine to a more neutral and less heart-wrenching subject.

“Yesterday. Early afternoon,” said Delaine. “I went to the store because we had a big shipment coming in. But then I couldn’t seem to get my head back into it.”

“That’s understandable,” said Theodosia. “You’re still in shock. Still in mourning.”

“I just let Janine tend to things,” explained Delaine. Janine was her sales assistant who’d been with her for quite a few years. “I went out and took a walk. I ended up over at Heart’s Desire, talking to Brooke and Aerin.”

“Those two were in here yesterday,” said Haley. “Very nice ladies.”

“You know,” said Delaine with careful deliberation, “they are saying there’s a cat burglar at work.”