Read Steeped in Evil (A Tea Shop Mystery) Online
Authors: Laura Childs
Steeped in Evil (A Tea Shop Mystery) (12 page)
“An equal opportunity piece of real estate,” agreed Drayton.
Just as they rounded a stone mausoleum with four tall pillars, they saw Pandora talking to someone. Her voice was raised in anger and she was shaking an index finger, looking generally unhappy and out of sorts.
As they drew closer, they saw that she’d buttonholed Andrew Turner and that the two of them seemed to be involved in a heated argument. Or at least Pandora was.
Pandora gazed at Turner and said, “You wouldn’t, would you?”
“Of course not!” Turner replied vehemently. “You know me better than that!”
Then, in a surprising move, Pandora stood on her tiptoes and put her arms around Turner, giving him a hug. A moment later, she dashed off.
Turner turned and saw Theodosia and Drayton looking at him with questioning looks on both their faces.
Theodosia lifted an eyebrow. “A problem?” she asked.
Turner looked a little embarrassed. “What can I say? Pandora was afraid that I was going to drop Drew’s work from my upcoming show.”
“Are you?” said Theodosia.
“Oh no, of course not,” said Turner. “There’s no way I’d drop Drew. His work is still perfectly deserving to be in the show. I told her that.” He nodded, as if to himself, and murmured, “It’s only fair.”
Theodosia suddenly made up her mind that Andrew Turner might just be the perfect new boyfriend for Delaine. He was kind, considerate, and probably even sweet to his mother.
“You’re very kind,” she told him.
“Ah,” said Turner, “I feel sorry for Pandora. I try to give her business advice from time to time, too. I think Jordan likes the
idea
of making wine, but he’s not so much into the sales and marketing part.”
“Are they floundering?” Theodosia asked.
Turner frowned. “Yes, they seem to be. Somewhat anyway.”
“Then it’s very kind of you to give Pandora some business advice, too,” said Theodosia as they walked out of the cemetery. She understood firsthand how difficult it was to be a small business owner. When she’d left her marketing job to open the Indigo Tea Shop, she’d had to figure out a laundry list of tasks. Like dealing with leases, payroll, quarterly taxes, inventory, and cash flow. And then there was the day-to-day worry of pleasing customers, staging events, and constantly testing and updating menus. She figured the wine business had to be ten times harder.
Turner walked to his car, a blue Audi that was parked three car lengths behind Theodosia’s Jeep. Just as he was getting in, he turned and said, “Oh, hey, I called your friend Delaine.”
“What did she say?” Theodosia called back as she pulled open the driver’s side door.
A smile lit Turner’s face. “She said yes!”
Drayton climbed into the passenger seat, pulled his seat belt across, and immediately began drumming his fingers on the dashboard. “We’re late.”
Theodosia started her engine. “We’re not late.”
“We stayed too long. Probably shouldn’t have hung around to offer condolences again.”
“We’ll be okay.” Theodosia pulled out into traffic, drove about two hundred feet, and hit her brakes.
“What on earth . . .” was Drayton’s startled response as she slalomed her car to the curb.
“Just one minute,” said Theodosia, holding up a finger.
“Honestly, we don’t have a minute!”
“We do for this,” said Theodosia. “Did you see who that was?” The girl who just climbed into the yellow taxi cab?”
“No idea,” said Drayton.
“That was Tanya, Drew’s girlfriend,” said Theodosia. “I need to ask her something.” She was already clambering out of the car. Then she made a mad dash across the street, causing a bright green VW bug to swerve around her, all the while calling out, “Wait! Please wait!”
The cab driver, who was almost ready to pull away from the curb, did indeed heed her cry.
Theodosia rushed over to the cab, bent down, and pulled open the back door of the cab. “Hey there,” she said to Tanya.
Tanya gazed at her, a fierce light glowing in her eyes. “What do
you
want?”
“I was just wondering how you’re doing,” said Theodosia.
“Fine,” said Tanya, though her lips barely moved.
“One quick question,” said Theodosia.
“What’s that?”
“Do you know where Drew’s Porsche is?”
“No,” said Tanya.
“Did you take it?”
“Of course not.”
“Did you sell it?” asked Theodosia.
“No. And that’s more than one question.”
Frustrated, Theodosia said, “Are you sure you don’t know where it is?”
A nasty smile played at Tanya’s lips. “If you’re so smart, why don’t you figure that out yourself!”
“Oh my goodness,”
said Theodosia, the minute she and Drayton arrived at the tea shop. “You put tables out on the sidewalk.”
“We had to,” said Haley. She met them at the door, looking harried and a little nervous. “We got a whole bunch more calls this morning asking for reservations.” She thought for a moment. “No, more like
demanding
reservations.”
“That’s amazing,” said Drayton. “And we didn’t even have to advertise.”
“Just word of mouth,” said Haley. “Which shows you how popular these themed teas really are.”
“Particularly a Downton Abbey tea,” said Theodosia.
“Is Mrs. Dimple here?” asked Drayton. He was busy pulling off his jacket and draping an apron around his neck. What he called his tea brewing apron.
“I’m here,” called a screechy little voice. Then Miss Dimple, the tiny plump dynamo who also served as their bookkeeper, came toddling out from the back room. “And I’m so glad you asked me to come and help.” Barely five feet tall with a cap of pinkish-blond curls, Miss Dimple was seventy-something but filled with excitement, a sweet-sour wit, and a sharp brand of humor. She was like the Energizer Bunny crossed with your crazy old aunt.
“Who set up the outside tables?” Drayton asked. He glanced at the diminutive Miss Dimple. “You certainly didn’t.”
Haley held up her right arm and flexed her lithe bicep. “I did. I’m not as scrawny as I look.”
“I should say not,” said Drayton, clearly impressed. Then he snapped back into work mode. “I take it our luncheon entrées are mostly prepped and ready?”
Haley nodded. “We’re in good shape. The kitchen is stuffed to the rafters, but we’re ready to rock and roll.”
“Tables are set?” Drayton cast a speculative glance at the tea room, where candles flickered and tableware gleamed.
“We just said good-bye to our last morning customer something like twenty minutes ago,” said Haley. “And then we barred the door and really hustled our buns to get everything ready.”
“We put out the Garnet Rose sterling silver and the Coalport cups and saucers just as you requested,” said Miss Dimple. “And I have to say, that tea ware, with the gilded, fluted edges and pink ribbon and botanical designs, is quite spectacular.”
“And your friend Mr. Woodrow, from Basically British Antiques, showed up with a couple boxes of stuff that you asked for on loan,” said Haley. “So we just kind of arranged the glass decanters and bronze sculptures and pottery and things on the various tables. Tried to make it all look like a pretty still life in an English manor home.”
“I particularly love the bronze horse and jockey sculpture and the ceramic bulldog,” said Miss Dimple. “They make perfect centerpieces. Very British Empire.”
“Yes,” said Drayton, surveying their handiwork and finally letting a small smile work its way onto his face. “It all imparts a sort of ‘Rule, Britannia!’ look and feel.”
“You know what?” said Haley, suddenly grinning at Miss Dimple. “It just hit me. You’re the spitting image of Mrs. Patmore.”
Miss Dimple looked mystified. “Who on earth is that?”
“Come on,” said Haley, giggling. “You know. The head cook on
Downton Abbey
.”
“Oh her!” said Miss Dimple. She waved a chubby hand. “You sweet silly girl, I don’t look anything remotely like her!”
But Haley’s remark had set Theodosia and Drayton to giggling as well. Because Miss Dimple looked very much like Mrs. Patmore!
• • •
At twelve o’clock
sharp, you’d have thought Big Ben itself had bonged out welcoming chimes to come and get it. Because at that precise moment, a throng of eager tea goers clustered at the Indigo Tea Shop’s front door, ready for the Downtown Abbey tea to begin.
Theodosia and Drayton quickly snapped to, checking their reservation sheet, welcoming all the various parties, and seating them at their reserved tables. Then they hustled back to the front counter to grab the tea that Drayton had set to brewing.
Happily, a lot of familiar faces had showed up for this special luncheon. Delaine was there, of course, bringing along her sister, Nadine, as well as two other friends.
In fact, as Theodosia glanced around, she saw that easily two-thirds of the tables were occupied by Indigo Tea Shop regulars. Timothy Neville, the crusty, long-reigning director of Charleston’s Heritage Society, had showed up with two guests in tow. And Brooke Carter Crocket, the jeweler who ran Heart’s Desire, had rounded up a group of friends and was seated outside on what they now considered the front patio.
As Miss Dimple circulated with a teapot in each hand, Theodosia and Drayton greeted each of their guests. In her spare time (
what
spare time?) Haley had created cute little paper petal envelopes with squares of English toffee tucked inside as favors. Once those were sufficiently oohed and ahed over, Theodosia’s team quickly moved into place and delivered their first course—Lady Crawley’s fruit trifle. Drizzled with honey-lemon dressing, this mélange of cake, pudding, strawberries, raspberries, and blueberries proved to be a huge hit, drawing several requests for recipes.
Once the fruit trifle had been enjoyed by all, and had disappeared all too quickly, Theodosia and Miss Dimple each brought out a large silver tray. Each tray was heaped with apricot scones as well as Haley’s own version of Mr. Carson’s Crumpets. Guests could choose one or the other—or even both. And wisely, most chose both. Frothy dollops of Devonshire cream and satin puddles of lemon curd served as tasty accompaniments.
Their third course consisted of tea sandwiches, an area in which Haley had clearly outdone herself. Each table received a three-tiered stand laden with small finger sandwiches that included fillings of curried chicken, cucumber and cream cheese, crab salad, and smoked salmon.
When these were brought out, all the guests seemed to pause happily and let loose a collective “Ahhhh.” Which gave Theodosia, Drayton, and Miss Dimple a little breathing space, too.
“It’s going very well,” Theodosia whispered to Drayton as she slipped between tables with a fresh pot of Assam.
“Don’t be fooled,” he whispered back. “It’s controlled chaos.”
As Theodosia stopped to pour refills for Delaine and her guests, Delaine was all a-twitter.
“You’ll never guess who called me last night,” Delaine said to Theodosia. Dressed in a bright blue dress, she was grinning from ear to ear, and the feather on her matching blue hat bobbed and dipped with each excited jerk and motion.
“No,” said Theodosia, “I probably can’t guess.” She knew darned well that Andrew Turner had followed through on his promise to call Delaine. Really, the man had been practically smitten!
“That darling Andrew Turner called me!” Delaine announced loudly to Theodosia and anyone else who was remotely within earshot. “He invited me to be his date for the Art Crawl Ball!”
“Isn’t that lovely,” Nadine simpered. She was Delaine’s older sister, practically a spitting image of her except for a sharper jaw—and a sharper tongue. “But hasn’t your invitation come awfully late? Is that really socially acceptable?”
Delaine was too excited about her upcoming date to be drawn into a silly hissy fit with her sister. “That’s because we just
met,
dear,” she explained in a saccharine tone. “Because Theodosia just
introduced
us last night!”
“How sweet,” said Nadine, though she didn’t display one bit of joy for her sister.
“A gallery owner,” said one of Delaine’s friends at the table. “Good for you. Keep your heels high and your standards even higher!”
“Now I’m going to have to conjure up a gown to wear,” Delaine went on. Then she giggled happily.
“Good thing I own an entire shop filled with fabulous ball gowns.”
“Then I’m sure you’ll find something wonderful to wear,” agreed Theodosia.
“Are you still going to do your lips?” asked Nadine.
“Excuse me?” said Theodosia. Just what would Delaine do to her lips?
“Hoping to,” said Delaine. She pulled a jeweled compact from her bag and studied her pouty red lips. “For some reason I’m losing a little fullness in my upper lip.”
“Turtle lips,” proclaimed Nadine. The two other women stared pointedly at Delaine’s lips.
“You have nothing of the sort!” said Theodosia. Delaine’s lips looked just fine to her. Then again, her own lips looked fine. Didn’t they?
“Oh!” said Delaine, as if something else had just occurred to her. She snapped her compact shut and said, “I’ve decided to donate a lovely designer handbag and scarf to the Art Crawl Ball’s silent auction.” She gazed at Theodosia. “You should donate something, too, Theo. I think it would be quite appropriate. Maybe you could put together a basket filled with some of your sweet little lotions and potions.”
“You mean my T-Bath products?” said Theodosia.
“Or you could create a lovely tea party in a basket,” said Delaine. “You do that so well. With all your teas and jams and jellies and whatnot.”
“Something to think about,” said Theodosia, who already had a plan in place to donate a basket.
When the last course, the dessert course, was served, Theodosia really did heave a huge sigh of relief.
“Oh joy,” she told Drayton. “We’re coming down to the home stretch.”
“And our guests are loving it,” said Drayton.
Haley peeked her head out of the kitchen. “Are they really?” she asked in a stage whisper. “How do they like the desserts?” She’d knocked herself out with all the food, but was especially proud of her Banbury tarts, shortbread, and cupcakes topped with frosting that had been etched and cross-hatched to resemble British tweed.
Drayton put his thumb and forefinger together and gave her the okay sign. “Trust me,” he told her, “our guests are delighted. They’re riding a veritable sugar high.”
“So there’s not that much for us to do anymore,” said Theodosia. “Except circulate and pour refills.”
“Theodosia!” Timothy Neville’s voice rang out, strong and imperious, belying his octogenarian status.
Theodosia was at his table in a heartbeat. “Yes? More tea for all of you?”
Timothy smiled at her. A grin that stretched across his thin face and made her think of a Hans Holbein painting she’d seen of an old English aristocrat.
“Now that you have a moment,” said Timothy, “I want to introduce you to my guests. This is Sally and Roger Shepherd.”
“Nice to meet you,” said Theodosia. She smiled. “Nice to have a little
time
to meet you now that I’m not flying around like a crazed banshee.”
“Sally and Roger are major donors to the Heritage Society,” Timothy explained. From the proud way he said it, Theodosia knew they were probably big buck donors.
“It’s been a lovely tea,” said Sally, smiling up at Theodosia.
“We’re real
Downton Abbey
fans,” said Roger. “So this has been a rare treat for us.”
“And everything has been flawless,” Sally marveled. “Not just the food, but the service and flowers and décor, too. Really, as good or better than tea at the Connaught in London.”
“Or Le Marais in Paris,” said Roger.
“We try very hard to make everything special,” said Theodosia. And from the praise she was receiving, it looked like they’d succeeded.
Timothy Neville, always a fan of British antiques, said, “That lovely china you used today. It’s Coalport, correct?”
Drayton overheard him and quickly stopped at the table.
“Indeed it is,” said Drayton, pleased. “You see that lovely fluted edge and swath of pink ribbon? Hand-painted, of course.” He and Timothy were longtime friends, as well as antique lovers and history buffs. And Drayton had served on the Heritage Society’s board of directors for as long as anyone could remember.
Then Timothy introduced Drayton to the Shepherds, whom, it turned out, Drayton already knew. And Theodosia made a grand dash to the front counter, where, wonder of wonders, customers were requesting take-home orders of scones and were also buying multiple tins of tea.
Another thirty minutes later and the tea room was beginning to empty out. A few guests lingered at tables, while Haley and Miss Dimple quietly cleared dishes from the tables that had been vacated.
Timothy’s guests, the Shepherds, had since departed, but Timothy was immersed in conversation with Drayton.