“We don’t know. We plan to question the man tomorrow.” Tidwell pushed himself up off the love seat, his knees making a popping sound as he stood up. He looked troubled. “The FBI is trying to block me, Theodosia. Trying to keep me out of the investigation. I don’t like it one bit.”
“So make a stink,” Theodosia suggested. “You’re good at that.” Then, “Is there anything I can do to help?” She wouldn’t mind getting Tidwell’s blessing, especially since Brooke was counting on her to investigate.
“Just keep doing what you’re doing,” Tidwell said. “But please be careful.”
“Always,” Theodosia said, even though she was well aware that she was a risk taker and that she had a history of dashing in where angels feared to tread.
“I mean it,” Tidwell said as they walked out to his car. “Listen to the rumors, keep an ear out for gossip, but do not take any unnecessary chances.”
“Sure,” Theodosia said as she followed him into the night, scuffling down her front walk. Rumors and gossip? She was going to need a lot more than that to resolve this case. To find closure for Brooke and justice for Kaitlin.
Tidwell stopped abruptly in front of his car and scowled. “Did you know that the Ford Motor Company stopped making Crown Victorias? It’s a crying shame.”
“What are you going to do when this one starts to fall apart?” Theodosia asked.
“Do the sensible thing, I suppose. Get it repaired.”
Theodosia grinned. “Why do I have the feeling there’s going to be a whole cadre of police detectives who are driving around in antique cars? It’s going to be like all those cars from the fifties that the people in Cuba are still driving.”
“Those are collector’s pieces. Just wait until trade relations are finally normalized. All the classic car collectors and auto restorers are going to swoop in and strip that poor island bare.”
12
“Why are we not prepared for this?” Drayton asked. He was running around in a tizzy, an antique majolica blueberry teapot clutched in one hand, a box of white tapers in the other.
“Calm down, Drayton,” Theodosia said as she surveyed the Indigo Tea Shop. “We’ve got time. We’ll get it all done.” She draped a long, black Parisian waiter’s apron over her T-shirt and slacks and tied it in back.
“It’s Wednesday morning,” Drayton said. “Our Duchess of Devonshire Tea is scheduled to go off at twelve o’clock sharp. We have a million details to finalize and my floral bouquets still haven’t arrived.” This was all delivered with a certain tone.
“Did you call Floradora?” They were Drayton’s favored florist and usually quite dependable.
“I called but they didn’t answer. Which is why I left a very stern message.”
“Good for you, Drayton,” Haley said as she buzzed by. “That’ll light a fire under them.”
“If only we didn’t have to contend with morning tea,” Drayton fussed.
“Well, we do,” Theodosia said. “We always do. So try to deal with it.”
Drayton began fumbling candles into the half-dozen pewter candlesticks that he’d set out. “Maybe we’ll get lucky,” he said in a low voice. “And only a few people will drop by.”
Theodosia snapped on her lighter and followed him around each table, lighting candles. “I’m right here, you know. I can hear you muttering.”
? ? ?
Brooke was the first person to show up that morning. She poked her head into the tea shop and called out, “Are you folks open yet?”
“We are for you,” Theodosia said, hustling over to give her a welcoming hug. Then she held her friend at arm’s length and said, “Say, now, you’re looking a little better today. You seem a little more upbeat.”
“I’m feeling somewhat better,” Brooke said. She was dressed in a fitted navy blazer and khaki slacks and looked a little like a real estate agent. It was a far cry from her usual silk tops and elegant slacks. “I think I’m starting to get a handle on things.”
“Good for you.”
“What I did was call up my accounting firm and have them put one of their people on this. You know, dealing with the insurance companies, getting the necessary police reports together.”
“You’re smart to outsource those things,” Theodosia said.
Brooke gave a faint smile. “Like I did with you?”
“Well . . . I haven’t accomplished all that much yet.”
“You know I have the utmost faith in you, Theo.”
“I’ll try to live up to that.” Theodosia drew a breath. “And I was wondering . . . is there going to be a funeral service for Kaitlin?”
Brooke’s expression changed and she suddenly looked drawn and tired again. “Yes, but not until next week. Bullocks Funeral Home is shipping her body back home to her folks in Greenville. But I was wondering if we should have some sort of memorial service for her here.” She blinked back tears. “What do you think?”
“That sounds like a lovely idea. I think we all want to say our good-byes.” Theodosia touched Brooke’s arm gently. “Would you like to sit down and relax? Maybe have a cup of tea?”
“I really should get back,” Brooke said. “There’s so dang much going on.”
Theodosia smiled. “Takeout, then?”