Shades of Earl Grey

Chapter 17

“Don’t get the seaweed wet!” warned Drayton. “If you do, the entire California roll will be soggy and completely inedible. And be sure to wrap cellophane around them so you can roll them snugly. Otherwise the darn things just crumble apart on you.”

“I’m not going to blow the California rolls,” scoffed Haley. “And stop being so futsy.” She slapped the back of Drayton’s hand as he reached over to poke an avocado and check its ripeness. “The rice has been cooked perfectly, the crab is delightfully pink and fresh, and the avocados are ripe. And by the way, Mr. Conneley, who appointed you chief cook and bottle washer in my kitchen? Theodosia!” Haley called at the top of her lungs. “Will you pleeease put Drayton to work somewhere else? He’s making me crazy!”

“Drayton,” said Theodosia, “I really could use your help out here.” She scanned the room, noting the positions of the tables.

“What?” he said grumpily, emerging from between the green velvet curtains.

“What with all the moving about of tables, the proportions seem a little out of whack,” she said. “Can you work some of your magic?”

Somewhat mollified by her request, Drayton scanned the room with an appraising eye. “Well, there’s your problem right there,” he told her. “You’ve got two tables absolutely jammed against the fireplace.” He threaded his way through the mazes of tables, pulled two of them away from the fireplace. Then he looked about the room and made a few more adjustments. Tables were angled, chairs pushed in, the head table also angled slightly.

“Now for the bonsai,” he said as he bent down and pulled bonsai trees from the two large black plastic trays he’d used to transport them. “Let’s place the small Japanese junipers and dwarf birches on the smaller tables.” He quickly began arranging pots of bonsai. “And the larger bonsai, like this elm forest and this taller tamarack, on the larger tables.”

“It looks wonderful,” said Theodosia once he’d finished his arrangement.

“What time do the guests arrive?” Drayton asked for about the fiftieth time.

“The invitations specified three. Of course, some folks always arrive a little earlier; a few will dash in late as usual. If we plan on serving our Japanese tea and goodies from about two-thirty to four, we should be right on.”

“Maybe I should check on Haley again,” said Drayton.

“Oh look,” said Theodosia as the door to the shop swung open, “here’s Hattie with your ikebana centerpiece.”

And as Drayton rushed to greet her, Theodosia breathed a sigh of relief and thought to herself, Saved by the bell.

By three-fifteen, the reception was in full swing. Delaine had been the first to arrive, bringing with her Cordette Jordan, the woman who owned Griffon Antiques over on King Street.

Brooke Carter Crockett and Aerin Linley followed on their heels, and shortly thereafter, Miss Dimple and Jessica Sheldon from Pinckney’s Gift Shop came rushing in.

There was about a five-minute lull and then a second influx of guests poured in. Angie Congdon from the Featherbed House, Lillith Gardner, one of the partners at Antiquarian Booksellers, Nell Chappel from the Chowder Hound Restaurant, and at least two dozen more friends from in and around the historic district.

Drayton was in his element, alternately pouring tea, answering questions about bonsai, and doing a major amount of schmoozing.

Theodosia stayed near the front door, where she could serve as official greeter, and Haley was kept busy restocking tidbits of sushi and kushiyaki on the main buffet table, in between dashing to the cash register to ring up sales on their new T-Bath products.

The din of conversation rose, as did the clink of cups and the squeal of voices.

“Did you really design this cunning packaging?” asked Nell Chappel. She held up a package of T-Bath Green Tea Soak with its elegant celadon green wrapper and typography done in a Japanese dry-brush style. “It’s so elegant and Zen-like,” she exclaimed.

Then, just when it looked as though they couldn’t squeeze one more person into the Indigo tea Shop, an entire jitney packed full of tourists stopped in front of the shop and a dozen women came tumbling in for tea.

Theodosia met them at the door. “I’m sorry, but we’re having a reception here today.”

They crowded around her, peering curiously over her shoulder.

“We were looking forward to a spot of tea,” said one lady with a pouf of blue hair.

“Of course you’re welcome to come in and help yourself to tea,” Theodosia said, “but I’m not sure I can offer you a table and a quiet respite today.”

“What’s your reception for?” asked another lady and Theodosia quickly explained the concept of the T-Bath products.

There were cries of How wonderful! and Can we buy, too? and the ladies came pouring in to join the ranks of the already jostling throng.

“Theo!” cried Delaine. She waved frantically from across the room as she clutched a sweetgrass basket filled with T-Bath products. “I simply adore your new products,” she said, making extravagant mouth gestures as she pushed her way through the crowd.

“Thanks, Delaine,” said Theodosia. “Your praise is much appreciated.” She hadn’t been able to speak privately with Delaine earlier and decided to take the opportunity now. It was funny, she thought, sometimes conversations could be the most private when you were surrounded by a crowd of people who were busy paying attention to something else.

“Lavender Luxury Lotion,” exclaimed Delaine, digging into her basket of products. “And Green Tea Feet Treat. Marvelous! You know, I wouldn’t be averse to stocking a few of your T-Bath items in my shop.”

“I appreciate the offer,” said Theodosia, “but let’s talk about it later, shall we?”

“Of course, Theo,” said Delaine. “If you’re too busy to discuss it now.”

“Delaine,” began Theodosia, “Timothy Neville tells me that your diamond watch was found in Claire Kitridge’s desk at the Heritage Society.”

Delaine knit her perfectly plucked brows together. “Yes,” she said, “the police called me earlier about that. I meant to tell you. Isn’t it strange? And all the time I’ve been volunteering there, I considered Claire to be an extremely honest and trustworthy person. Salt of the earth, really. It’s funny how people can fool you. And disappoint you, too,” she added.

“Do you really believe Claire stole your watch?” asked Theodosia.

Delaine was suddenly reluctant to meet Theodosia’s gaze. “Well, someone did,” she said vaguely. “Along with everything else.”

By everything else, Theodosia knew Delaine was still stewing mightily about the missing wedding ring.

“When did you first decide your watch was missing?” asked Theodosia.

Delaine shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe before I went to Savannah for the funeral. Maybe the day I got back. I’m not exactly sure. It’s all a little fuzzy. I certainly had other things on my mind.”

“Is it possible you took your watch off while you were at the Heritage Society?” Theodosia knew that, as a volunteer for the Heritage Society, Delaine spent countless hours there. “Could you simply have misplaced it? If you did, someone might have found your watch and put it in Claire’s desk for safekeeping.”

“Well . . .” said Delaine, “I was there Sunday morning for a while going over the numbers on ticket sales. And things were still in an uproar from the night before.” She shrugged again. “I don’t know, Theodosia. Don’t let’s get into it right now, there’s so much that’s still very painful for me.”

“Please realize,” said Theodosia, “that the Heritage Society’s executive advisory committee wants to fire Claire.”

Delaine looked surprised. “I thought she was just suspended.”

“Delaine, think, please,” urged Theodosia. “This is important.”

Delaine suddenly turned flashing eyes on Theodosia. “My niece Camille was important, too. And her poor dead fiancé. And their wedding ring. What if Claire Kitridge was somehow involved in that tragedy?”

“You don’t really believe Claire is a cat burglar, do you?” Theodosia asked gently.

Delaine pulled a hanky from her small baguette bag and daubed at her perfectly made-up eyes. “I don’t know what to think anymore.”

“Could someone have come into your house while you were in Savannah for the funeral?” asked Theodosia.

“Just Coop.”

“What, Delaine?” said Theodosia loudly.

“I gave Cooper Hobcaw the keys to my house.”

“Why?”

“Someone had to feed Sasha. I couldn’t let my little darling go hungry now, could I?”

Sasha was Delaine’s cat, a seal point Siamese that she absolutely adored.

“No, of course not,” agreed Theodosia.

“Well then,” argued Delaine, “don’t you think Coop would have known if someone broke in or not? He’s a lawyer.” Delaine hesitated, rethinking what she’d just said. “Well... what I meant to say was that Cooper Hobcaw is extremely observant. He would certainly have noticed if a window was ajar or a door unlocked.”

“You’re right,” said Theodosia. At this point she knew it was easier to agree with Delaine than argue with her. But she was mulling over the possibility that Cooper Hobcaw could have lifted Delaine’s Chopard watch and somehow planted it at the Heritage Society.

“Theodosia, this is all so splendid,” exclaimed Brooke Carter Crockett. Theodosia turned to find that Brooke and Aerin Linley were also loaded down with an assortment of T-Bath products.

“Isn’t it just?” agreed Delaine, glad for the diversion. “And do you know, I’m actually considering carrying some of these marvelous products in my store?”

“Is she really?” asked Brooke as Delaine scurried off.

“I think we’ll probably end up retailing everything here and on our web site,” said Theodosia.

“Delaine is a bit of a dragon lady, isn’t she?” said Aerin Linley with a wry smile.

“But a good customer of ours, too,” said Brooke, in a tone that indicated enough had been said about Delaine Dish. “Oh, I almost forgot . . .” Brooke dug in her purse, pulled out a tiny gold box, and handed it to Theodosia. “For you.”

“Brooke! What’s this?” exclaimed Theodosia as she tentatively accepted the little box.

“Not much, really. Just a fun thing I put together.”

“Go ahead, open it,” urged Aerin.

Theodosia carefully lifted the lid on the box, then let out a squeak of surprise. “Is it my teacup?”

Brooke nodded. She had taken the colorful shards of Theodosia’s shattered teacup of the other day, rimmed them with sterling silver and tiny bits of gold, and hung them on a charm bracelet.

Entranced, Theodosia lifted the bracelet from the box. The results of Brooke’s efforts were spectacular. The broken pieces that had looked so sad when they were lying on the floor now gleamed and danced with a whole new life.

“It’s spectacular,” said Theodosia. She clutched Brooke’s hand. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything. Just wear it in good health,” said Brooke. “As we shall continue to drink your tea in good health.”

“But it must have taken so much time to create,” Theodosia protested.

Brooke waved a hand dismissively. “Really, it’s not that big a deal. I buy the silver in small, thin strips anyway and it’s extremely malleable. It only takes a few minutes to outline each piece, then pinch everything into place. From there on it was just straight ahead soldering and jump rings. Jewelry Making 101.”

“Well, it looks like a million bucks,” said Theodosia as she watched the colorful teacup pieces dance and jingle in their reincarnation as charms.

“Think of it more as a priceless memory of your mother’s china,” said Brooke.

“Theo,” said Aerin, who had been watching her with a barely contained smile. “I have an interesting proposal for you.”

Theodosia turned inquisitive eyes on Aerin.

“I have a dear friend who’s the producer for Windows on Charleston at Channel 10. She’s always looking for interesting guests and I mentioned your name—”

“Oh, I don’t think—” began Theodosia.

“And she mentioned that she’d love to have you on!” finished Aerin. “She saw the write-up on you and the T-Bath products in the Style Section and was really intrigued.”

“Theodosia would be perfect, wouldn’t she?” interjected Drayton. He’d come up behind the three of them and overheard part of the conversation. “There’s been such an enormous resurgence in tea drinking. And of course, the Charleston Tea Plantation, the only tea plantation left in the United States, is practically in our back yard. Their American Classic Tea has been the official White House Tea since 1987 and has also been designated Hospitality Beverage of South Carolina.”

Aerin clapped her hands together. “That’s so perfect, Drayton. Exactly the kind of sound bite they’re always looking for. Theodosia could expound on tea lore as well as talk about contemporary tea drinking. Maybe even share recipes.”

“It would be a fun piece,” agreed Brooke.

“We’ll look into it,” Drayton assured them.

“Be sure to mention my name,” said Aerin.

“What are you doing?” Theodosia hissed at Drayton when she had him alone.

“Encouraging you to get a gig,” he said with a poker face.

“What if I don’t want to get a gig?”

“Think about it, Theo,” said Drayton. “What if you could actually land a segment on a local TV show? Think what it could do for business!”

Theodosia glowered at him. “You’re using a marketing strategy to try to persuade me. That’s how I used to handle clients. Persuade them by pointing out the financial upside.”

Drayton smiled. “Then you of all people should want to explore this opportunity. See if you can find out any more from Aerin, will you? She’s really a great person to know, exceedingly well connected.”

“Drayton . . .” Theodosia began. She still hadn’t had a chance to tell him about her visit to Graham Carmody’s house last night, and her strange discovery of the Internet auction printouts was percolating in her brain.

“Hmm?” he asked as he looked over her shoulder, his face suddenly lighting up. “Well, look who’s here! Hellooo!”

“Oh, my gosh,” exclaimed Theodosia as her Aunt Libby walked through the door. “What are you doing here?”

Libby Revelle squared her narrow shoulders and gave her niece a mildly inquisitive look. “You invited us, don’t you remember?”

“Yes, of course. But I never expected you to show up.”

Libby turned to Margaret Rose Reese, her companion and housekeeper. “It seems we’re a bit of a surprise,” she said dryly.

“You’re a wonderful surprise!” exclaimed Theodosia as she suddenly threw her arms around Aunt Libby and planted a kiss on her smooth cheek. She released her, then repeated her motions with a slightly embarrassed Margaret Rose.

“Oh, honey,” protested Margaret Rose, who struggled to maintain the stern facade she’d honed to perfection from years spent as a housekeeper for an aging Episcopalian minister, “you don’t have to go all gushy. It’s just us.” But she was pleased anyway.

“We decided to make an evening of it,” declared Aunt Libby. “Margaret Rose and I have been stuck out at Cain Ridge for what feels like forever.”

Cain Ridge was the former rice plantation out in the low-country where Aunt Libby and Theodosia’s father had grown up.

“Our master plan,” continued Aunt Libby, “was to drop by your little reception, then treat ourselves to dinner at the Women’s Club. Afterwards, we’re going to soak up a little culture at the symphony.”

Theodosia stared at her. “I’m going to the symphony tonight. With Jory Davis.”

“Good,” declared Aunt Libby with a sly grin. “Then you and your gentleman friend can buy us both a nice Dubonet with a twist during intermission” And with that, Aunt Libby pushed her way into the crowd, eager to get reacquainted with old friends and enjoy a good chat.