Logic hadn’t made any sense to her then, and her suppositions on Hughes Barron’s murder or Mr. Dauphine’s death weren’t yielding anything constructive, either. They were just puzzles within puzzles that made her head spin.
The phone shrilled on the counter next to her, and Theodosia automatically reached for it. “Indigo Tea Shop, how may I help you?” she said.
“Theodosia, Tanner Joseph here. Good news. I’ve just finished your labels.”
“Wonderful,” she said in a flat voice.
“Hey, don’t sound so excited.”
Tanner Joseph’s tone was upbeat and breezy. A far cry, Theodosia thought, from the anger and hostility he’d radiated when she’d made mention of Hughes Barron the day before. She suddenly wondered if
“Will you be home this evening?” Tanner asked her. “I’m driving into the city, and I could easily drop them—”
“No,” interrupted Theodosia. “Don’t bother. I prefer to come pick them up.” She thought quickly. “You’ll be at your office tomorrow morning?”
“Yes,” Tanner said, “but there’s really no need to—”
“It’s no trouble,” said Theodosia and hung up the phone.
The labels. Damn. She’d forgotten about them for the moment. They were one more futzy detail to follow up on, one more reminder that she wasn’t really tending to business here. Theodosia stared out into the tea shop where Delaine was still deep in conversation with Angie Congdon.
“Do we need to talk?” Drayton, reaching for a fresh jar of honey, saw consternation mingled with weariness on Theodosia’s face.
Theodosia nodded. “My office, though.”
When the two were alone, Theodosia related her conversation with Delaine.
“Pay no attention,” counseled Drayton. “Everyone knows Delaine is a confirmed gossip.” He peered at her, knowing something else was gnawing at her. “Did Burt Tidwell say something to you as well?”
“Drayton,” said Theodosia, “you’re on the board of directors of the Heritage Society. Were you aware that Mr. Dauphine had willed the Peregrine Building to the Heritage Society?”
“He did?” Drayton frowned. “Seriously? No, I knew nothing. It’s news to me.”
“So board members aren’t privy to such information?”
“That kind of thing comes under the category of directed donation. So usually just the board president, in this case Timothy Neville, and the Heritage Society’s legal counsel are privy to details.”
“I see.”
Drayton gazed at her. “You’re getting frown lines.”
“Not now, Drayton,” she snapped.
“Oh, we’re going to be that way, are we?” he said. “Once again, you have assumed the entire weight of the world on your small but capable shoulders.” He continued even as she glowered at him. “As you wish, Theodosia. I shall play along, then.” He crossed his arms and tried to appear thoughtful. “Let me guess. Suddenly you are envisioning a scenario where Timothy Neville also decides to hasten the death of Mr. Dauphine?”
“It’s a possibility,” admitted Theodosia.
“Perhaps. Or a second scenario might place our mystery man, Lleveret Dante, at the scene of that crime as well. Mr. Mustard in the library, so to speak.”
“It’s no joking matter, Drayton.”
“No, it’s not, Theodosia. I’m as concerned as you about everything that’s gone on. And I certainly don’t take the threat against Earl Grey lightly, either. I hope you informed Detective Tidwell about that incident.”
He took her silence as a no.
“That’s what I was afraid of,” he said wearily.
“Last night, you said you were in this with me,” she cried.
“That was before Mr. Dauphine turned up dead!” He rolled his eyes skyward as if to implore,
“I’m not afraid,” murmured Theodosia. “I’m not afraid of anything.”
“Really,” said Drayton. He planted both hands on her desk and leaned toward her. “Then, pray tell, why did you spirit Earl Grey off to your Aunt Libby’s in the middle of the night?”
Chapter 40
Tanner Joseph heard the muffled slam of the car door outside his office. She was here, he told himself excitedly. Theodosia Browning had arrived to fetch the tea labels. Evening before last, he had worked long into the night, adding subtle touches of color to the black-and-white drawings, so intense had been his desire to please Theodosia and see her again.
After his call to her yesterday, when she told him she wanted to wait till morning, preferred to drive out to Johns Island and pick up the labels herself, he had been terribly dismayed. But when the day had dawned and a gloriously sunny day revealed itself, his spirits had greatly improved, and he saw now that he might turn her visit to his advantage. He simply had to convince Theodosia to stay. To spend the rest of the day with him. And, he hoped, the evening. That would finally give the two of them the time and space they needed to really get to know each other.
The door flew open, and Tanner Joseph greeted Theodosia with a smile. It was the boyish grin he had practiced many times in his bathroom mirror. It was also a grin that, more often than not, worked rather well on girls.
Only Theodosia was not a girl, he reminded himself. She was a woman. A beautiful, enchanting woman.
“Hello, Tanner.” Theodosia stood in front of his desk, gazing down at him. She wore a plum-colored pant suit and carried a slim leather attaché case. Her face was impassive, her voice brisk and businesslike.
Theodosia had to remind herself that this young man who sat before her, looking rather innocuous and innocent, had quite possibly used Bethany to obtain information about her. She wasn’t certain why Tanner Joseph wanted to collect this information but, since she still viewed him as a wild-card suspect in Hughes Barron’s murder, his attempt at familiarity was extremely unsettling. As she met Tanner Joseph’s piercing blue eyes, she assured herself this would be a quick, by-the-book business transaction.
Tanner Joseph took in her business garb and snappy attitude, and his hopes slipped a bit. Perhaps Theodosia hadn’t taken time to fully appreciate the thousand-watt glow of his boyish grin. No, he could see she obviously hadn’t. She was all but tapping her toe to get going.
“Here are the finished pieces, Theo.” He held the art boards out to Theodosia and watched as she took them from his hands. Their fingers touched for a moment. Could she feel the spark? The electricity? He certainly could.
Theodosia quickly shuffled through the four boards, studying the finished art. “These are very good,” she declared.
Tanner Joseph frowned. The gush of compliments he’d hoped for didn’t seem to be forthcoming. Instead, her comment was more a calculated, measured appraisal. A pro forma “job well done.”
“You finished them in tempera paint?” Theodosia asked. She tapped at one of the drawings with a fingernail.
“Colored markers,” replied Tanner Joseph. He eased himself back in his chair. She was pleased, he knew she was. He could read it in her face.
Theodosia laid her attaché case on Tanner Joseph’s desk and opened it.
“Drayton is going to love these,” she said. “You did a first-class job.” She placed the art boards carefully in her case, closed it, snapped the latch.
“That’s it?” he inquired lazily.
“That’s it,” replied Theodosia. “Send me your invoice, and I’ll make sure you receive samples as soon as everything’s printed.” She spun on her heel, heading for the door.
