Shades of Earl Grey

Theodosia looked up sharply. “Pardon?”

“Oh, you looked a little worried there for a moment. I would think you’d be doing handsprings right about now. Folks really went ga-ga over your T-Bath products yesterday afternoon. I hope you’ve called in a big reorder to your supplier.”

“Don’t worry,” said Theodosia as she poured streams of freshly made Assam tea into dark blue take-out cups. “That’s at the top of my to-do list today.” Aerin’s good humor was contagious and Theodosia was suddenly caught up in her enthusiasm. “I’m so glad you and Brooke were able to stop by.”

“You know, I was perfectly serious about the TV show idea,” Aerin said as she cocked her head and smile at Theodosia. In her pink cotton crewneck sweater, khaki slacks, and beige leather slip-on shoes, she looked very sporty, far younger than her thirty-six or thirty-seven years. “You’d be great on-air,” Aerin said with encouragement. “You’re so pretty and vivacious, I’m sure you could deliver a great segment.”

“Actually,” said Theodosia, warming up to the idea, “I’d love to do a tea segment. A few folks are still under the illusion that tea is the drink of choice for blue-haired ladies in pillbox hats. Nothing wrong with blue-haired ladies in hats, of course, but tea’s really come into its own as a contemporary drink.”

“You’re darned right it has,” said Aerin. “When kids are chugging premixed chai like water, you know tea has hit mainstream! Ohh . . .” she exclaimed as Haley rushed by with another tray of short bread and lemon curd. “Is that lemon curd? Real lemon curd? The kind you slave over a hot stove for?”

So, of course, Theodosia had to fill a small, square jar with lemon curd for Aerin to take along with her.

Jory Davis didn’t call until they were caught up in the whirlwind that was lunch. “Hello?” said Drayton, deftly balancing the phone, a tray stacked with fruit and cheese plates, and a pot of tea.

“Hi, Drayton,” said Jory. “Is Theodosia around?”

Drayton peered out over the tearoom and crooked a finger at Theodosia. She caught his meaning and signaled back. “She’ll be with you in a second,” Drayton told Jory.

Theodosia hurried across the room and snatched the phone up. “Hello?”

“Hey there,” said Jory Davis.

“Hey there, yourself,” said Theodosia. “You realize everyone here thinks I was soothed by music from Rigolletto and La Traviata last night.”

“Well, you almost were,” he said. “And admit it, wasn’t snuggling under a full moon better?”

“You’ll get no argument from me. Like I said last night, I can always listen to it on CD.”

“Say,” said Jory, “I know you’re busy, heck, we’re both busy, but I was able to work in some fast investigating this morning.”

“Terrific. What did you come up with?” she asked.

Jory Davis sighed. “Nothing.”

“Nada,” said Jory. “No record. The guy’s clean as a whistle.”

“That’s weird. I had a feeling there might be something.”

“I couldn’t even find an unpaid parking ticket,” said Jory. “He’s a model citizen.”

“Hmm.” Theodosia gazed out over the tea shop, noting that every table was filled and that Drayton and Haley were running around like chickens with their heads cut off. “Listen, why don’t you come by for dinner tonight.” She wanted to clue Jory in about the note that had been slipped under the door this morning, but right now wasn’t the best time.

“Great!” said Jory.

“Hold on,” said Theodosia. “I’m thinking about inviting Drayton and Haley, too.”

“Oh, a working dinner,” said Jory, with no less enthusiasm.

“When we get this cat burglar thing figured out,” said Theodosia, “I promise dinner for two. With a full complement of candlelight and wine.”

“And I shall bring the roses,” laughed Jory. “Although I think I’ll bring wine tonight as well. What time shall I plan to arrive on madame’s doorstep?”

“Eight. And since you volunteered to bring wine, kindly make it white.”

“I’ll spend the rest of my day pondering the merits of a fine Vouvray versus a Chenin Blanc.”

“Bye bye,” she told him, laughing.

“My gosh,” said Drayton, “I must have looked like the juggler in Cirque du Soleil, what with teapots in one hand and fruit and cheese plates in the other. Sometimes I yearn for the good old days when we only served tea.”

“Adding a lunch service really has livened things up,” agreed Theodosia.

“Even on Graham Carmody?” Theodosia asked with surprise.

“And contributed nicely to our bottom line,” added Drayton.

Theodosia was keenly aware that they had run in the red for more months than she cared to think about. Now, this last year, they had clearly been in the black, with the last six months veering toward very respectable profits.

“Today will be a push from now on,” declared Haley. “Friday afternoons are never all that busy. I guess people must take off early or go shopping or something. Anyway,” she looked over at the three tables that were still occupied, “they’re not here.”

“How would the two of you like to join me for dinner tonight?” suggested Theodosia.

“Really?” squealed Haley. “I’d love to. I didn’t have anything special planned.”

“What about you, Drayton?” asked Theodosia. “I’ve invited Jory Davis to dinner, too.”

“I’d be delighted,” he said. “May I bring anything. Or do anything?”

“That goes for me, too,” said Haley.

“Drayton, you just get yourself to my place by eight o’clock. Haley, if there’s some leftover shortbread and lemon curd, maybe you could package it up and bring it along for dessert.”

“Oops,” said Haley, cupping a hand to her mouth. “We just served the last piece of shortbread. But there’s still tons of lemon curd to use as topping. How about if I pop a cake in the oven?”

“Fine idea,” declared Drayton.

“Only if it isn’t too much work,” said Theodosia. “After all, we’re all still recovering from yesterday.”

“I’m sure Haley can manage just fine,” offered Dray-ton. “And if I could interject a thought, might I suggest a coconut cake?”

“Haley, can you manage?” asked Theodosia, amused by Drayton’s ravenous desire for cake.

“Seeing how much it means to Drayton,” she said, assuming an exaggerated hands-on-hips stance, “I’ll try.”

Detective Tidwell pushed open the door, eased himself into the tearoom. He let the door close behind him, yet made no effort to move to a table, preferring to stand there in an ill-fitting tweed jacket and pork pie hat, surveying the premises with a slightly haughty air.

Haley noticed him first. “Uh-oh,” she said under her breath. “That detective is here again.”

Theodosia looked over and gave a quick wave.

“He looks like he’s been shrink-wrapped in tweed,” murmured Haley.

“Ssssh,” warned Drayton as he tried to stifle a grin and Theodosia hurried forth to greet Tidwell.

“Detective Tidwell, nice to see you again,” said Theodosia in her best tea shop hostess patois. “Won’t you have a seat?”

Tidwell shuffled to a table, lowered his bulk carefully.

“Can I offer you some tea?” asked Theodosia. Goodness, she decided, in the wake of Tidwell’s sullenness, I sound hideously chirpy.

Tidwell gave a faint nod.

“Do you have a taste for anything in particular?” she asked.

“Surprise me,” said Tidwell in an uncharacteristic move.