number for Cherry Tree Investments and was dialing it.
“Hello,” Theodosia greeted the woman who answered Cherry Tree’s phone, “this is Judith Castleworth at the
“Of course,” said the receptionist.
“In Cherry Tree’s recent press release regarding the closing of the company Grapevine, you mention that Cherry Tree is undertaking financing for several new high-tech companies. Can you give me the names of those companies?”
“You’re talking about our newest underwritings,” said the receptionist, not sounding completely sure of herself.
“Yes,” said Theodosia.
“Let me see if I even have that information,” said the woman. “Shirlene, the regular girl is at lunch, I’m Marilyn. Can you hold for a moment?”
“Of course,” said Theodosia.
There was a rustle of papers, and Theodosia could hear the woman coughing gently. Then she was back on the phone.
“Miss Castleworth? I have those names for you.”
“Go ahead,” said Theodosia.
“The companies are Deva Tech, that’s D-E-V-A Tech, two words. And Alphimed, A-L-P-H-I-M-E-D, one word.”
“Deva Tech and Alphimed,” repeated Theodosia.
“Yes,” said Marilyn. “Deva Tech manufactures scanners for the warehouse industry, and Alphimed is a franchised medical testing company. Interim financing for both has already gone through, and Cherry Tree will be issuing a complete story to the media . . . oh, probably next month.”
“Would it be possible to speak with your president, Mr. Booth Crowley?” asked Theodosia.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Crowley’s at lunch. Could I have him return your—?”
“Thank you anyway, Marilyn,” said Theodosia.
Theodosia replaced the phone in the cradle and leaned back in her leather chair. So Booth Crowley was financing two more high-tech companies. And from the way things sounded, they were very close to launching.
Booth Crowley. He was the man who’d handled Oliver Dixon the pistol. He was the man who’d been so hostile toward Billy Manolo at Oliver Dixon’s funeral. And Booth Crowley was the big-time venture capitalist who launched Grapevine by virtue of his financing, then pulled the plug after Oliver Dixon was killed.
“You look like you’ve got a headache,” said Haley.
“Getting one, anyway,” said Theodosia, her head spinning with possibilities. She was hungry but had only eaten a quarter of her sandwich.
“I have the perfect antidote,” said Haley. “Just give me a sec.”
Theodosia stared out the window, thinking that
Haley returned with a teacup filled with pale yellow liquid. “Drink this,” she urged.
“What is it?”
“Meadowsweet tea.”
“Perfect,” declared Theodosia. Meadowsweet was a plant that had been used for centuries to fight fever and tame headaches. Its derivative, salicylate, was the compound that had been chemically formulated to produce aspirin.
“Drayton told me about your genteel conversation with Giovanni and Doe,” Haley said, very tongue-in-cheek. “You don’t think
“I’m not sure what to think anymore,” replied Theodosia. “First Ford Cantrell looked suspicious, then Billy Manolo. Although Billy just seems a little crazy.”
“But crazy people do crazy things,” said Haley.
“Yes,” said Theodosia slowly, “they do. And now I’m also having second thoughts about Doe. It would appear she had a lot to gain from Oliver Dixon’s death.”
“You think the prom queen whacked her own hubby? Gosh, it sounds like tabloid fodder, doesn’t it? Or a plot for a B movie.”
“It doesn’t stop there,” sighed Theodosia. “I’m also curious as to what Booth Crowley is up to. It still seems strange to me that he just closed down Grapevine.” Theodosia sipped her tea as Haley stared placidly at her. “Haley, tell me more about PDAs.”
“What do you want to know?”
Theodosia paused. “There are different kinds. . . .” She wasn’t sure where she was going with this.
Haley frowned at Theodosia, as if trying to decipher her thoughts. “You mean different operating systems?”
“I think so, yes,” nodded Theodosia.
“Oh that,” said Haley. “There’s two kinds duking it out right now. Palm versus the Pocket PC.”
“And your gizmo uses Palm,” said Theodosia.
“Right,” said Haley, “because I’ve got a Palm Pilot.”
“What was Grapevine designing applications for?” said Theodosia.
“Not really applications, more like expansion modules.”
“For the Palm,” said Theodosia.
“Yes,” said Haley.
“And now Booth Crowley is going to underwrite Deva Tech, a company that manufactures warehouse scanners. What kind of computer systems do big warehouses generally use?”
“Big stuff, networks,” she said.
“No Palm operating system?” asked Theodosia.
Haley smiled. “Hardly.”
“So maybe Grapevine was small potatoes,” said Theodosia.
“Or Booth Crowley didn’t want to tick off the powers that be, the Microsofts of the world. It was just easier to dump Grapevine.”
“Or dump Oliver Dixon,” said Theodosia.
“Chilling thought,” said Haley.
“Which means I need to find out a whole lot more about Booth Crowley,” said Theodosia.
“How about tapping into radio free Charleston down the street?” suggested Haley.
“You mean Delaine?”
“Who else? She always seems to have the latest word on everything. Just don’t let on that you’re
Chapter 23
“Theodosia, I just got in the most
“Janine!” Delaine yelled to her overworked assistant. “Where did we hang those silk jackets? Or are you still steaming them?”
Janine came rushing out from the back room, bearing silk jackets on padded hangers. Janine always looked a trifle red-faced and out of breath, and Theodosia often wondered if the poor woman had borderline high blood pressure or if her state of nervous excitement was due to six years of working for Delaine. She suspected the latter.
“Here, try this.” Delaine pulled at Theodosia’s black cashmere cardigan, trying to wrest it off, while she held
