Agony of the Leaves: Tea Shop Mystery #13 (22 page)

“But Jenny’s coming in again?”

Haley consulted her watch. “She should be here in ten minutes.”

“In the meantime…” said Theodosia. She looked around and found that their booth was suddenly inundated with
customers. “You keep up the sampling,” she told Haley, “while I write up orders.”

They worked in tandem for another ten minutes, Haley handing out samples and, when the flow of customers suddenly slowed, doing a bang-up job of enticing even more passersby to stop at their booth.

Theodosia, meanwhile, was indeed writing up orders. A new tea shop in Savannah, Muffy’s Cuppa, had heard good things about their proprietary blends, so Theodosia gave a quick sales presentation on their Lemon Verbena, Flower Song Breakfast, and Gunpowder Black teas. Which, she was happy to find, resulted in a rather sizable order.

Haley had brought in a small selection of teapots, too, and Theodosia found herself talking up the Hsi-Shing teapots in particular. Most of thosepurple-brown clay teapots were small and compact, ideal for retailing in a tea shop and uniquely suited for brewing a single cup of tea. Then, when she got inquiries about Devonshire cream, she found herself not only passing along the names of two good vendors, but writing out her favorite recipe, too.

By the time Theodosia came up for air, Haley was deep in conversation with…
Oh no, Peaches Pafford again?

Peaches was talking earnestly, bending Haley’s ear about something.

Theodosia angled closer to them and realized Peaches was talking to Haley about Bittersweet. Sharing her plans with her.

“It’s a kind of coffee and tea bar but with light lunches,” Peaches told her. “Servedsit-down style.”

“I see you’re still making plans to open your little patisserie,” Theodosia said.

Peaches gave aself-satisfied smile. “Yes. Absolutely I am. I’ve collected some marvelous recipes for cakes and cookies and breads and can’t wait to get started.”

“But you have something bigger going on,” said Theodosia. “A big fat surprise you just sprang on all of us.”

Peaches managed a quizzical look. “I did?”

“Your purchase of Solstice,” said Theodosia. “That pretty much came zooming out of left field.”

Peaches tried to downplay her acquisition. “Not really. It’s no secret I’d been interested in the place.”

“Yes, but Parker wasn’t interested in selling to you,” said Theodosia. She knew she was spitting a little venom along with her words, but she didn’t much care. “But now, of course, Parker’s not around to say no thanks to your purchase offer. Or stand in your way. Now you have everything you wanted.”

Peaches’s mouth twisted into a grimace. “No, dear, not quite everything.”

“Tell me,” said Theodosia, taking a step closer, pretty much invading Peaches’s personal space. “Did you have to twist Shelby’s arm?”

Peaches’s eyes narrowed. “I did no such thing.”

“Yes, I think you probably did,” said Theodosia.

“I merely made the girl a fair and reasonable offer,” said Peaches, standing her ground. “There’s nothing nefarious going on, Theodosia. It was a legitimate business offer.”

“But so very convenient,” said Theodosia, “to have Parker out of the way.”

Now Peaches tossed back a little venom of her own. “Exactly what are you implying?” She reared back and snarled, “Are you saying that
I
had something to do with the man’s death?”

“Did you?” asked Haley. She’d remained quiet as the exchange between Theodosia and Peaches had grown more heated.

“Of course not!” said Peaches. “And shame on you for thinking that!” She gritted her teeth and looked like she was about to spit forth something else. Then she seemed to think better of it and flounced away in anger.

“You sure got her undies in a twist,” remarked Haley.

“How long had she been talking to you?” Theodosia asked.

“You mean before you joined the conversation?”

“Well…yes,” said Theodosia. She wasn’t sure if Haley was being coy or if the argument had made her nervous.

Haley shrugged. “Not long. Couple of minutes at most.”

“And Peaches was telling you about her idea for a patisserie?”

“Yeah. She wants to call it Bittersweet.”

Theodosia felt an unwelcome heaviness lodge in the pit of her stomach. “Haley, did she…did Peaches offer you a job?” It would be just like Peaches to try to poach a valued employee.

Haley nodded. “She kind of danced around it. But…yeah, she pretty much did.”

Theodosia’s voice grew deathly quiet. “Are you considering it?”

Haley gave a lopsided grin. “What do you think?”

Theodosia swallowed hard, then said, “I think you’re aself-actuated person who will do what’s best for yourself careerwise.”

“Excuse me,” said Haley, frowning slightly and placing her hands on her hips, “but that’s no way to get me to stay. It sounded more like a bunch of career aspirationmumbo-jumbo.”

“Then how about this.
Please
stay. We love you.”

“Theodosia,” said Haley, “leaving you, Drayton, and the Indigo Tea Shop never once crossed my mind.”

“Really?”

“Really. I love you guys, too, and I intend to stay as long as you’ll have me.” Haley held up her right hand and crooked her pinkie finger. “And I’ll evenpinkie-swear on that.”

And so they did.

Back at the
tea shop, Drayton’s casual invitation hadn’t only been noted, it had been actedupon—by about twenty of the
coffee and tea people who’d attended his lecture. Add in the Indigo Tea Shop’s regular customers, as well as a flock of tourists who’d just hopped off one of thered-and-yellowhorse-drawn jitneys, and, by eleven thirty, they were slammed.

“Toss four spoonfuls of Sessa Estate Assam into that Brown Betty teapot, will you?” asked Drayton. Theodosia and Drayton were working feverishly behind the counter, brewing tea and setting up tea trays arrayed with sugar cubes, lemon slices, Devonshire cream, and jam.

Theodosia tossed in the tea, popped on a tea cozy made to resemble anorange-and-white calico cat, and said, “Which table?”

“Table five,” said Drayton. “Anddouble-check to see if they want teriyaki salmon on their garden salads or lemon chicken. I forgot to write it down and now I can’t remember.”

“You’re all atwitter,” said Theodosia.

Drayton nodded. “Poor me. My prefrontal cortex has turned to mush.”

Theodosia delivered the tea, clarified the salad orders for Drayton, and quickly brewed up pots of Pouchong, cinnamon spice, and oolong tea. Then there were more deliveries to the tables and a quick visit with Haley in the kitchen.

“Whew,” said Haley. She was hunched over her industrial stove, stirring a pot of seafood chowder, tasting it, judiciously adding a pinch of white pepper. “Are we as busy out there as I think we are?”

“Busier,” said Theodosia. “Maybe we should have asked Miss Dimple to come in today.”

“Nah, we can handle it,” said Haley. “You have to do afull-court press once in a while.”

“Yes, but you’ve been doing it all week,” said Theodosia.

“Haley glanced up, a little startled. “Have I? Is that why I feel like I’ve been run over by a steamroller?”

“We can always get you some help. I’ve made that offer before, you know.”

Haley shook her head. “I can’t stand the idea of somebody coming into my kitchen and messing things up.”

“They wouldn’t mess things up,” said Theodosia. “They’d be there to lend assistance. To function as a kind of assistant or sous chef.”

“What about my receipts?” Haley’s voice rose. “My recipes?”

“What about them?” said Theodosia.

“Whoever you hire might
steal
them!” Haley stopped herself and held up a hand. “I know, we’ve been over this before. And you say it won’t happen. But, at the very least, those recipes might be leaked to customers. And you know those are my proprietary receipts. Handed down from my granny.”

“Haley,” said Theodosia, “with that kind ofmind-set, how are you ever going to author a cookbook?”

“That’s a problem,” Haley admitted. “I mean, I
want
to do one, I’ve even had offers. But it still grieves me to think my recipes would be out there, just swirling around the universe.” She thought for a moment. “I need to do, like, a secret cookbook.”

“An unusual concept,” said Theodosia, trying hard not to smile.

“How could we do that?” asked Haley.

“I don’t know,” said Theodosia. “Maybe print the book using invisible ink? Of course, then your recipe insiders would have to hold each page up to a candle in order to read it.”

“I
like
that!” said Haley.

Theodosia grabbed a tray of salads. “Somehow I knew you would.”

On Theodosia’s second
trip through the tea room, a hand reached out to grab her. She stopped in her tracks, raised an eyebrow, and looked down.

It was Lyle Manship. Sitting at a table by himself, looking like the cat that just swallowed the canary.

“Good heavens,” said Theodosia. “You again.” She made a point of not sounding pleased.

“Nice to see you, too,” said Manship.

“You must be in hog heaven right about now,” said Theodosia. “Since you were just awarded the restaurant franchise at the new Neptune Aquarium.”

“I’m thrilled,” said Manship. He threw her a smarmy grin that contained little to no warmth.

“Too bad it didn’t go to a local Charleston restaurateur.”

“Perhaps they’re not as creative as I am,” said Manship, looking decidedly smug.

“Or maybe they’re not as underhanded in their business dealings,” Theodosia shot back. She didn’t know if money had changed hands, but it wouldn’t surprise her.

“That’s not very nice,” said Manship.

“Are you positive you didn’t attend the aquarium’s opening party?” Theodosia asked.

Manship’s gaze was cool and steady. “I already
told
you I wasn’t there.”

“Just checking your story,” said Theodosia.

“Aren’t you the suspicious one,” said Manship. “Tell me, the day you drove down to see me, were you really following up for Parker Scully’s family, or were you, dare I say it, investigating his murder?”

“Does it really matter?” said Theodosia.

Manship snorted. “Probably not.” Then he seemed to shift his attitude. “Say, have you thought any more about leading that tea cruise?”

“No,” said Theodosia. “I really haven’t.”

Twenty minutes later, with all their customers finally served, Theodosia ducked into her office. She wanted todouble-check the guest list Delaine had given her. But after
she’d slid her index finger down the list and looked carefully, she still didn’t see Manship’s name. So he definitely hadn’t been an invited guest.

That wasn’t to say Lyle Manship hadn’t been there.

Anyone who’d come strutting into the aquarium that night dressed in black tie and shiny shoes certainly would not have been asked to present an invitation. So…Manship could have easily slipped in. And then, after the mayhem, after the murder, he could have slipped back out again.

Had Lyle Manship committed the perfect crime?

No, probably not. If he
had
committed the murder, Theodosia doubted it had been perfect. According to most criminologists, there wasn’t any such thing as the perfect crime. Sooner or later a shred of evidence, a witness, a clue,
something
would turn up.

Unfortunately, nothing had turned up yet on Parker’s murder.

“Can you believe
it?” said Drayton, “those gents at tables four and six just requested a tea tasting.” He was grabbing tins of tea, balancing them in his hands as if he were contemplating the scales of justice.

“Do you even have time?” Theodosia asked.

Drayton’s eyes darted to and fro, his hands moving at lightning speed. He was clearly focused and in the zone. “I’m going to
make
time.”

“Then what can I do to help?”

“Grab a tin of Kandoli Garden Assam, will you? That one has such a lovely honey flavor.”

“You’re going to do all Indian teas?” said Theodosia.

“Yes. And I’ll brew asecond-flush Darjeeling because I want them to savor that slightly muscatel flavor. And I’ll round things off with a nice brisk Nilgiri.”

“That’ll wake them up,” said Theodosia. “You want me to grab a bunch of those small Chinese cups? The ones without handles?”

“Perfect,” said Drayton, as his teakettles began to shriek and he was suddenly lost in a cloud of steam.

Still customers continued to pour in.

“Do you do takeout?” asked a woman, who had waited patiently at the front counter.

“We fix a lovely box lunch,” said Theodosia. “A scone with a small container of jam and two tea sandwiches.”

“Is one of them chicken salad?” asked the woman.

“Today it’s chicken salad with slivered almonds,” said Theodosia, “and the other sandwich is goat cheese withsun-dried tomatoes.”

“Mmm…sounds delish,” said the woman. “Can I get six box lunches?”

“Coming right up,” said Theodosia. She hustled into the kitchen, packaged the scones and jam, wrapped the tea sandwiches ineco-friendly waxed paper, and hustled back out. She lined up sixindigo-blue takeout boxes on the counter, arranged the food inside, tossed in paper napkins, and closed the lids. For goodmeasure—and smartmarketing—she stuck acrack-and-peel sticker on each one that carried the Indigo Tea Shop logo along with their phone number.

“We seem to be getting more and moretake-out orders,” Drayton said, as their customer left toting a white shopping bag filled with box lunches. “We should think about putting in a deli counter.”

“Where?” asked Theodosia. Clearly, between the front counter, floor-to-ceiling shelves filled with tea tins, their tables and chairs, and their various sideboards and highboys stocked chockablock with gift items, there wasn’t a square inch that hadn’t been optimized.

“I don’t know,” said Drayton. “In your office?”

“Oh, great,” said Theodosia. That was all she needed.

“Just kidding,” said Drayton, as he dropped a teakettle to grab the ringing phone. “Indigo Tea Shop.” He listened for a second, then handed it off to her. “For you.”

“Hello?” said Theodosia.

“Theodosia! It’s Majel!”