Tanner Joseph stood up so quickly his chair snapped back loudly. “Don’t rush off,” he implored. “I was hoping we could—”
But Theodosia was already out the door, striding across the hardpan toward her Jeep.
“Hey!” Tanner Joseph slumped unhappily in the doorway of the Shorebird Environmentalist Group headquarters and waved helplessly at her.
“Bye!” called Theodosia as the Jeep roared to life. The last thing she saw as she pulled into traffic was a forlorn-looking Tanner Joseph, wondering how things had gone so wrong.
Chapter 41
“What are you drinking?” asked Bethany. Drayton answered her without looking up from his writing. “Cinnamon plum.”
He sat at the table nearest the counter, working on his article. It was 2:00 P.M., and Bethany and Haley were bored. The lunchtime customers had left, and afternoon tea customers hadn’t yet arrived. Baked goods cooled on racks, shelves were fully stocked, and tables were set.
“Cinnamon plum sounds awfully sweet. I thought you said you never drink sweet teas,” responded Bethany. “I consider it more flavorful than sweet,” said Drayton as he continued writing.
“What are you working on?” asked Haley.
“I
“About tea?” said Haley.
“Yes, about tea. I can’t seem to put my finger on the precise reason, but I seem to have completely lost my train of thought.” “No need to get snippy, Drayton.” Haley peered over Drayton’s shoulder. “You always write your articles in longhand?” “Naturally. I’m a Luddite. I abhor modern contraptions such as computers. No soul.” “Is that why you live in that quaint, rundown house?” asked Bethany.
“The dwelling you are referring to is neither quaint nor rundown. It is a historic home that has been lovingly and authentically restored. A time capsule of history, if you will.”
“Oh,” said Haley, and the two girls burst out giggling.
Drayton turned to face them. “Instead of plaguing me, ladies, why don’t you just come right out and admit it? You’re nervous about Theodosia’s errand.”
When he saw their faces suddenly crumple and real worry appear, Drayton immediately changed his tune. “Well, don’t be,” he replied airily. “She’s highly capable, I assure you.”
“It’s just that everything’s been so topsy-turvy around here,” said Haley. “And now with that awful note...” Her voice trailed off. “I wish it hadn’t been typed. If it was someone’s handwriting, we’d have something to go on.”
“Listen to yourself,” scolded Drayton. “You’re
“She did?” Bethany’s eyes were as round as saucers. This was news to her!
The doorknob rattled, then turned, and they all held their breath, watching.
But it was Miss Dimple.
Drayton rose from his seat and rushed over to greet her. He extended an arm to lead her to a table. “Get Miss Dimple a cup of tea, girls.”
He sat down next to her, patted her arm. “How are you doing, dear?”
Miss Dimple’s sadness was apparent. Her shoulders were slumped, her usual pink complexion doughy. “Terrible. I was just up in the office and I kept waiting for Mr. Dauphine to come clumping up the stairs.” A tear trickled down her cheek. “I can’t believe he’s really gone.”
Drayton pulled a white linen handkerchief from his pocket and passed it to her. She accepted it gratefully.
Bethany and Haley arrived with a steaming teapot and teacups. “Tea, Miss Dimple?” asked Haley.
“Don’t mind if I do,” she said, blotting her tears.
Drayton poured a cup of tea for Miss Dimple and, without asking, added a lump of sugar and a splash of cream.
“Thank you,” she whispered and took a sip. “Good.” She smiled weakly, glancing around at the three of them.
“We were all very sorry to hear about Mr. Dauphine,” volunteered Haley. “He was such a nice man. He parked his car in the alley outside our apartment. He was always worried that he’d disturb us or something. Of course, he never did.”
“I came to tell you all,” said Miss Dimple, “that there will be a memorial service for Mr. Dauphine. Day after tomorrow.”
“At Saint Philip’s?” asked Drayton.
“Yes,” Mrs. Dimple squeaked, and a few more tears slid down her cheeks. “He loved Saint Philip’s,” she said tremulously.
“As do we all,” murmured Drayton.
Thirty minutes later, when Theodosia walked in, Dray-ton was back at his table working on his article, while Haley and Bethany were waiting on customers. Even though almost all the tables were filled, the mood in the tea shop seemed somber and quiet.
“Who died?” asked Theodosia, sitting down across from Drayton. Then she remembered. Mr. Dauphine had. “Oh, dear,” she said contritely, “how could I have even said that! How thoughtless of me. Forgive me, Drayton.” She went to pour a cup of tea and spilled it, so flustered was she by her inappropriate remark.
Drayton waved a hand. “Not to worry. I think the stress is getting to all of us. And of course it didn’t help that poor Miss Dimple stopped in here a while ago. She’s going around to all the shops. Well, the ones up and down Church Street anyway. Telling folks that Mr. Dauphine’s funeral will be held day after tomorrow.”
Theodosia nodded. “You picked up the artwork?” Drayton pointed his pen toward her attaché case. “Already dropped it by the printer. They’re probably making color plates even as we speak.” “No problems out there?” he asked, a pointed reference to Tanner Joseph.
“None at all.”
“Excellent. FedEx delivered the tea tins while you were out. There are ten cartons in back stacked floor to ceiling. Your office now resembles a warehouse. All you need is a hard hat and forklift.”
“Let me get you a fresh cup, Theodosia.” Bethany reached over and carefully retrieved Theodosia’s cup and saucer with its overflow of tea.
“Thank you, Bethany,” murmured Theodosia.
Bethany transferred the cup and saucer to her silver serving tray. She hesitated. “Everything was fine with the artwork?”
Theodosia nodded. “Bethany, you wouldn’t go out on a date with Tanner Joseph again, would you?” Theodosia asked the question as gently as possible.
“No chance of that,” declared Bethany.
“I’m glad,” said Theodosia, “because there is something decidedly unsettling about his—”
“I think so, too,” whispered Bethany as she hurriedly slipped away to the kitchen.
“Theodosia. Telephone!” Haley called from the counter.
Theodosia hurried to the counter and picked up the phone. “This is Theodosia.”
“Hi, it’s Jory Davis,” said the voice on the other end.
“Oh,
“I just wanted to tell you that your private security guard has reported no unusual incidents over the last two days.” “He’s been watching us for two days? Are you sure? Because I haven’t seen hide nor hair of anyone.” Jory Davis chuckled. “You’re not supposed to. That’s the whole point.”
Theodosia considered his remark. “You’re probably right. I certainly appreciate your arranging for this. I’m not entirely convinced it’s necessary, but still it feels comforting.”
