“It was a success,” Drayton said. He glanced at Theodosia, who hadn’t said anything. “Don’t you think so, Theo?”
“Smashing,” she said. Then winced. Maybe smashing wasn’t the best word for it. Smashing brought back memories of . . .
“Are you okay, Theo?” Haley asked in a tentative voice. “You had kind of a funny look on your face for a moment.”
“I’m just tired,” Theodosia said. She wasn’t really tired, she’d just been thinking about Brooke and Kaitlin.
“You’re not, like, mad about anything, are you? Mad at me?”
Theodosia turned and touched a hand to Haley’s shoulder. “Not in the least. In fact, I should be thanking my lucky stars that we have you on our team. You’re the one who was in the kitchen today, cranking it out like crazy right up to the bitter end.”
Haley ducked her head. “That’s okay. It’s what I do. What I love to do.”
“And now I think you’d better run upstairs and take it easy while Drayton and I clean up.” Haley had moved into the apartment above the tea shop, where Theodosia used to live.
Haley looked surprised. “Are you sure? You don’t want me to stick around and help with the cleanup?”
“Absolutely not,” Theodosia said. “You take off, okay?”
“That’s right,” Drayton chimed in. “We’ll handle it from here.”
“Well . . . okay,” Haley said. “Hey, thanks a bunch.”
? ? ?
“So what did you find out about Professor Shepley?” Drayton asked. Haley had finally gone upstairs, and he and Theodosia were stacking dishes into the dishwasher.
“He’s sticking around here until Sunday or Monday,” Theodosia said.
“Because . . . ?”
“Because he said, and I quote, he’s going to try to ‘wangle an invitation’ to the Heritage Society’s big show. He also claims to have been unaware of the presence of a Fabergé egg until you so helpfully brought it up tonight.”
“Maybe he’s telling the truth.”
“And maybe he’s not,” Theodosia said. “Which is why Shepley is blipping on my radar screen like an errant satellite that’s suddenly dropped out of orbit.”
“But you’re also suspicious of Sabrina and Luke Andros and Lionel Rinicker,” Drayton said. “And let’s not forget Billy Grainger from last night. Good old Motorcycle Billy.”
“There’s another person I’d like to take a closer look at, too.”
Drayton looked surprised. “You can’t be serious.” And then, because Drayton really was the curious sort, he said, “Who is that?”
“The rock-hammer guy,” Theodosia said. “A fellow named Marcus Clement.”
“This is because of those hammer images that Tidwell showed you?”
Theodosia nodded. “That’s right. Clement’s a rock climber. He supposedly owns one of those rock-climbing hammers like the thieves used to . . .”
“Smash open the cases,” Drayton said.
“Yes.”
“How did you come by this person’s name?”
“I have my ways.”
“Theodosia.” Drayton half closed one eye and fixed her with a disapproving look.
So Theodosia gave him the rundown on Clement. And how Tidwell had already checked on the fact that he’d recently purchased a rock hammer.
“Wait a minute,” Drayton said. “You’re losing me. Who bought the hammer?”
“He did.” She paused. “Clement did. And then I did, too.”
“What?”
She explained how she’d gone to Triple Peak and bought a rock hammer that was identical to the one Clement had purchased. And then had it delivered to his home.
“And you did this, why?”
“Well . . . so I could clandestinely obtain his address.”
“Of course, silly me. So now that you have Mr. Clement’s home address, what do you plan to do about it? Or shouldn’t I ask?”
“You can ask. But I’d rather you just come along quietly with me.”
“With you.” Drayton rolled his eyes, looking more than a little exasperated. “You want me to . . .”
“Snoop around Clement’s house,” Theodosia said. “That’s right.”
Drayton smoothed a hand across the top of his head. “I’m getting too old for these ridiculous capers.”
“Don’t say that, Drayton. You’re my voice of reason.”
“How could I be? Since you rarely heed my advice. Or warnings.”
Theodosia stood with her hands on her hips, a mischievous smile playing at her lips. “So. Are you coming with me or what?”
“Yes, but for one reason only,” Drayton said. “I might have to post bail if you get caught.”
21
It was almost ten thirty when they rolled past Marcus Clement’s home. Theodosia checked the address she’d jotted down against the numbers on the house. Then she checked it again. They were in a neighborhood with a mixture of clapboard, stucco, and ubiquitous Charleston single houses. The asphalt streets were pitted, and the lawns and trees looked a little bedraggled.
“This is it?” Drayton asked.
“Yup. And thanks for coming, by the way. I appreciate having your company.”
“Not that I had much say in the matter.”