Death By Darjeeling

Chapter 14

Located southwest of Charleston, Johns Island is a big boomerang-shaped piece of land. It is only technically an island in that it is surrounded by waters that include the Stono River, Intracoastal Waterway, Kiawah River, and Bohicket Creek. For many years, Johns Island was a sleepy, rural backwater. Farms dotted the landscape, and a few charming villages served as small bedroom communities for Charleston.

But all that began to change a few years before, as home prices in Charleston escalated, the economy boomed, and the entire Charleston area began to strain its boundaries.

Real estate developers eyed the still-affordable rolling farms of Johns Island as prime targets for development and began to snatch up properties. Long-time Johns Island residents suddenly saw their rural utopia and relaxed way of life about to be threatened. Tensions ran high.

In stepped Hughes Barron, thought Theodosia, as she maneuvered her Jeep Cherokee through light midmorning traffic on the Maybank Highway. Jory Davis’s call this morning had made her, as they say, curiouser and curiouser. So she had jumped into her Jeep, rolled back the canvas cover, and was now enjoying the exhilaration of an open-air ride.

She knew Hughes Barron had been one of the first developers to pounce on property out there. It wasn’t exactly prime oceanfront, but the Atlantic Ocean did flow in between Kiawah and James Islands and create some wonderful tidal rivers and marshes.

Exiting Maybank, Theodosia followed Rivertree Road for a good five miles, then hung a right on Old Camp Road. Those were the directions she’d gotten earlier when she’d phoned the sales office at Hughes Barron’s so-called Edge-water Estates. But right now she was seeing only pastoral vistas and farmland. Just when she thought she must have gotten off course and was prepared to turn around, an enormous, colorful billboard rose up out of a field of waving, yellow tobacco.

Edgewater Estates, the sign proclaimed in painted pinks and greens. Time-Share Condominiums. Own A Piece Of History. Deluxe 1, 2, and 3 Bedrooms. Developed By Goose Creek Holdings.

Theodosia wondered just what piece of history it was that came part and parcel with your Edgewater Estates time-share condo. What had the greedy developer, Hughes Barron, been referring to?

The archaeological remains of the Cusabo Indians who had lived here 400 years ago?

The barely visible ruins of an old Civil War fort? Constructed of crushed lime and oyster shells, an amalgam known as tabby, the old fort had begun to crumble even before the turn of the last century.

How about the 900 acres set aside by the Marine Resources Department?

No matter, she told herself. She wasn’t here today to do a consumer confidence check on Goose Creek Holdings. She was here because, armed with information Jory Davis had provided, her curiosity was running at a fever pitch. Everything she’d heard about Hughes Barron told her the man was definitely not Mr. Popularity. He had to have made enemies. Lots of them. When land was at stake, or multimillion-dollar real estate deals, that’s when people got very, very serious. And sometimes very, very nasty.

Swinging into the entrance of Edgewater Estates, a circular, white-crushed-rock drive that wound around a five-tiered fountain, Theodosia hated the place on sight. The building wasn’t just the antithesis of Johns Island. Rather, it looked more like a retirement village in south Florida.

Edgewater Estates Time Share Condominiums was big, sprawling, and gaudy. Stone cherubs and doves flanked the building’s main entrance, while the building itself was painted what could only be described as tropical green. Accents of white shutters and false balustrades completed the garish touches.

It’s like a bad leisure suit, thought Theodosia as she slid her Jeep into the slot marked Visitor Parking. Overly casual combined with bad design. Always a disastrous marriage.

Hughes Barron or, more likely, his architect, had borrowed drips and drops from Charleston architecture. Unfortunately, they seemed to have thrown out what was true and good and classic and reconstituted it into something overblown and commercial.

My God, Theodosia thought to herself, it’s a good thing I didn’t have to create sales materials for this real estate project! Granted, I had my fair share of turkey accounts at the ad agency. Some awful children’s toys that were supposed to be educational but weren’t. A shopping mall. A line of instant soup mixes that never thickened and had a chalky undertaste. But never, never anything this bad.

“Good morning. Welcome to Edgewater Estates.” A perky young woman, probably no older than twenty-six, in a bright yellow suit smiled at Theodosia from the other side of a white marble counter. “This is our sales office, such as it is.” The girl spread her arms in a theatrical gesture. “We’re already sixty percent sold, so the office we were using is now the recreation room. But you are so in luck. We also have several resales that have just come available, and some of them have ocean views.” The young girl halted her pitch, appraised Theodosia quickly, then added, “You are looking for a time-share condo, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely,” declared Theodosia. “And I’ve heard wonderful things about Edgewater Estates.”

The girl beamed. “We like to think we’re the premier time-share property on Johns Island.”

Theodosia wanted to tell the girl they were the only time-share property right now. And if the island’s residents woke up and learned their lesson, they’d probably remain the only one. But she held her tongue. Better to play it cool, gather as much information as possible. You never knew when something interesting would pop up in conversation.

The real estate agent stuck out her hand. “I’m Melissa Chapman, sales associate.”

Theodosia shook the girl’s hand and smiled convincingly. “Theodosia Browning, prospective buyer.” Theodosia fingered one of the oversized glossy catalogs that lay on the counter between them. “These are your sales brochures?”

“Oh, yes, help yourself.” Melissa thrust one of the colorful brochures into Theodosia’s hands. “There are four different floor plans available. Do you know what you’re looking for?”

“Probably a two bedroom,” said Theodosia.

“Our most requested model,” enthused the girl. “And what about time of year? Obviously, summer is wildly popular and carries a premium charge. We only have a few blocks of time left. Late August, I believe. But what many people don’t realize is that right now, October, November, is absolutely perfect out here. And the price is a good seventy percent below a summer slot.” Melissa widened her eyes in mock surprise. “Interested?”

“Very,” said Theodosia. “Can I take a look at some of the units?”

“I’ll get my keys.” Melissa smiled.