Steeped in Evil (A Tea Shop Mystery) (9 page)

“Oh my goodness!”
said Theodosia. She was so startled, the words just seemed to burst from her mouth.

“I don’t think
goodness
is quite the right word, darlin’,” Georgette drawled in response. “In fact, I’ll bet you’ve been told that I’m the devil incarnate.” She released Theodosia’s hand and waited for her to settle into the chair next to her.

“I haven’t heard anything quite
that
bad,” said Theodosia. Now that she’d recovered from her initial shock, she was curious to learn something about this woman whom Pandora really had demonized.

“I’ll just bet,” said Georgette, “that Jordan and Pandora Knight asked you to take a hard look at me. Am I right? I bet they pointed their irate little fingers at me and said, ‘She’s the killer!’”

Instead of answering yes or no, Theodosia said, “How do you know I’ve been talking to the Knights? That they’ve asked me to look into things for them?”

“I have my ways,” said Georgette. “And let’s face it, now that we’re sitting here having our friendly little tête-à-tête, you
are
curious about me, aren’t you? You really do want to know if I’m such a big bad monster?”

Theodosia decided to meet Georgette’s tumble of words head-on. “As a matter of fact, I do.”

“Well, the simple fact of the matter is, they’ve got their undies in a twist all because I made an offer on Knighthall Winery. A rather generous one at that, considering the circumstances.”

“Those circumstances being . . . what?” Theodosia asked.

“Oh, how about the fact that their winery is a losing proposition and Jordan Knight doesn’t really know what he’s doing?”

“Jordan Knight seems to be under the impression that you acted quite aggressively toward him,” said Theodosia.

Georgette considered this for a moment, then her mouth twitched and a smile worked its way across her broad face. “That’s probably because I
am
aggressive. How else do you become a success in business?”

“Is
your
winery a success?” Theodosia wasn’t being impudent; she was just plain curious. She found this woman a fascinating study in brashness and bravado.

“I’d say so,” Georgette said in measured tones. “We produced almost five hundred thousand bottles last year and practically doubled production this year.”

“That sounds pretty amazing. You have that many orders?”

“We do,” said Georgette. “It seems we’re the flavor of the mouth here in South Carolina.” She looked rather pleased and added, “North Carolina and Georgia, too.”

“You must have excellent distribution,” said Theodosia. She decided to keep Georgette talking and learn as much as she could from her.

“I’ve built a crackerjack sales force that’s opening more and more accounts every day.”

“Then it sounds like you’ve got your hands full.”

“You got that right,” said Georgette. “Some days I don’t know if I’m coming or going.”

“Then why would you want to take on Knighthall Winery, too? Why on earth did you make them an offer?”

Georgette glanced down at her program, then back at Theodosia. “I didn’t want to buy the winery per se. It was the vineyard I was after, simple as that. More grape production equals more wine equals more bottles for me to sell.”

Keep her talking, keep her talking
, Theodosia told herself. Luckily, Georgette was cooperating nicely.

Besides,” Georgette continued, “I think Pandora was rather pleased with the offer I made.”

This was news to Theodosia. “You think so?” As far as she could recall, the Knights had made it sound like Georgette was trying to negotiate a hostile takeover.

“In fact, I’m fairly sure that Pandora’s had a belly full of the wine business.”

“What are you saying?” said Theodosia. “That Pandora wants out?”

Georgette nodded. “My guess is that Pandora would like to
cash out.
That she’s sick to death of the whole thing. Think about it—she’s endured five years of nursing so-so harvests, of struggling to gain traction in a tough market, and negotiating with the bank for additional time to pay off their loans.”

“I had no idea things were that bad,” said Theodosia.

Georgette uttered a sharp bark. “Bad? They’re terrible out there! Pandora is divorcing Jordan and is probably going to take him to the cleaners. And face it, she certainly never got along with Drew.”

“What you’re telling me is . . . interesting,” said Theodosia. Actually, it was enlightening!

“It’s a mess out there at Knighthall,” said Georgette. “Even Tom Grady is thinking about moving on.”

“Would you hire him?”

Georgette’s eyes slid away from her just as the lights dimmed and a riff of music filled the air. And Theodosia realized that Georgette had indeed talked to Grady. In fact, Grady had probably confided to Georgette that she was the one looking into things. Okay, so a direct pipeline to Georgette. She’d have to be a little careful here.

“Grady’s a good manager,” Georgette said as she leafed nonchalantly through her program. “He understands viticulture inside and out. I could probably find a place for him at Oak Hill.”

Sudden applause drowned out anything more Georgette had to say. Then a spotlight flicked on, the music dipped low, and Delaine walked out onto the runway. She paused in the bright circle of light, looked around, and put a microphone up to her mouth.

“Friends,” Delaine began, “I’m absolute
thrilled
that so many of you turned out for my annual Clothes Horse Races. As you know, many of your favorite designers have donated some amazing fall preview items for you to appreciate and bid on. So enjoy the show, pick out a few garments, and please be generous. All of the money earned here today will go to the Loving Paws Animal Shelter. So remember, there are sweet dogs and kitties who are counting on you!”

With that, the room went dark. The crowd seemed to hold its collective breath until the music crashed on and the lights came on. They were colorful and incredibly bright, focused directly on the Mylar runway. The music was the DJ’s mash-up of Marilyn Manson’s version of “You’re So Vain” and Beyoncé’s “Run the World
.
”

And then the dizzying parade of models began. The first few models wore filmy, flimsy cottons and silks, the kind of flowing slacks and dresses that you could enjoy and wear right now. Then the show segued into a more autumnal theme, with gilded jackets, skintight pants, flowing skirts, and lightweight suede. The models pranced their way down the runway like Tennessee walking horses, lifting their knees unnaturally high as they remained aloof and unsmiling.

The next grouping of fashion featured evening wear. Black lace gowns, burgundy and dark green dresses, and even some smoking jackets, all worn with multiple strands of beads and opera-length pearls.

To Theodosia’s eyes, the fashion show was glitzy, high-energy, and fast-paced. Lots of expensive clothes showed off to perfection by a bevy of attractive, underfed young women.

“Will you look at that ruffled cocktail dress,” said Georgette. “Really amazing.”

Theodosia turned her attention to the waves of blue ruffles that made up the short flouncy skirt, and then was stunned beyond belief when her eyes traveled upward and she suddenly recognized the model! It was Tanya Woodson. Drew’s girlfriend. Or ex-girlfriend, as matters now stood.

Sitting through the rest of the show was difficult for Theodosia. She squirmed and fidgeted, thinking about how strange it was to run into Georgette Kroft and then to see Tanya walking the runway!

When the show came to its grand conclusion, lights blazing and music blasting, all the models came back out and took their final walk down the runway and back. Then Delaine reappeared to make a final plea. She was carrying a little white dog with a curly coat and shiny oil spot eyes.

“Please,” she said, holding the wiggling little dog up for the crowd to see, “fall in love with some of the amazing pieces you’ve just seen here and fall in love with this little guy, too. Then dig deep into your pocketbook and buy. And remember, every penny goes to charity!”

“I just have to have that ruffled cocktail dress,” Georgette enthused as she jumped to her feet. “What about you, Theodosia? Did you pick out a few things that you just have to have?”

“Absolutely,” said Theodosia, though she really hadn’t. She had one eye trained on the runway, watching the models—Tanya in particular—and saw that they were all now carrying little order sheets. Instructed, no doubt, by Delaine to circulate through the crowds, which were surging back toward the champagne bar and all the racks of clothes.

“In fact, I’m going to put my order in right now,” said Theodosia.

“You go, girl,” said Georgette.

Theodosia jumped up on the runway, ran to the end of it, and jumped down, pretty much heading off the surging crowd. “Tanya! Tanya!” she called after the waiflike model.

Tanya heard her name called, glanced around, and saw Theodosia. A frown flickered across her face. Not anger, just annoyance. As if Theodosia were a pesky mosquito buzzing about her head.

“What?” Tanya mouthed.

Theodosia continued to push her way through the crowd until she was face-to-face with Tanya. Well, at least face-to-collarbone, since the girl was so doggone tall.

“I need to talk to you,” said Theodosia.

“Now what’s your problem?” said a petulant Tanya. “Look, I really can’t talk right now. I’m supposed to be working, can’t you see that?”

But Theodosia wasn’t about to take no for an answer. “This won’t take long. I just need to ask you a couple of questions.”

Tanya’s mouth twisted into an unhappy pout. “What?”

“What does
green alien
mean to you?”

Tanya’s eyes widened slightly, but she kept her calm. “I have no idea.”

“Think hard.”

“It’s means
nothing
to me!”

“Think harder.”

Tanya started to turn away.

“Had Drew been using drugs?” Theodosia asked.

Tanya hesitated, and then turned back. Her face had the harried, frightened look of a trapped animal.

“He was, wasn’t he?” said Theodosia. Then, before Tanya could say anything, she added, “It must have been heartbreaking for you. I know you loved him very much.”

Now tears sparkled in Tanya’s eyes. “Drew tried to . . . managed to . . . clean up in treatment. But then he . . . stumbled.”

“Drew started using again?”

Tanya gave an imperceptible nod. “I loved Drew, but he was struggling. He went through drug treatment two separate times.”

“Recently?” said Theodosia.

Tanya nodded again.

“Do you think he was using drugs last Sunday? The day he was . . . um, the day he died?”

“I don’t know, maybe.”

“You lived with him,” said Theodosia. “So you must have known if he was still using.”

“He . . .”

“Excuse me!” said Delaine. “Theodosia, you haven’t bid on a single item of clothing yet. And
you
. . .” She turned blazing eyes on Tanya. “You need to circulate, young lady, and help hustle up some serious sales. I know someone’s going to want to purchase that lovely cocktail dress you’re wearing!”

Theodosia watched as Tanya eased away from them and melted into the crowd. A smile was pasted back on her face but she still looked achingly sad. As if she’d lost the love of her life. Which she probably had.

And who had been responsible? Theodosia wondered. A disgruntled drug dealer who hadn’t been paid? Or something a whole lot more sinister?

“Theo!” said Delaine, a reprimanding tone in her voice. “Are you even
looking
at the clothes? Have you even heard a word I said?”

“I like the dress you’re wearing,” Theodosia blurted out. She figured she had to say something.

“You do?” Delaine squealed. “That’s fantastic. In fact, it might be the perfect dress for you to wear to the Art Crawl Ball this Saturday night! Of course, I’m wearing a sample size, while you’re . . . shall we say a size or two larger.”

“Thanks a lot,” said Theodosia. Just because she ate carbs and didn’t starve herself with juice fasts and master cleanses . . . well, she didn’t need to be pilloried for it!