Theodosia knelt down and gently put a hand on the little dog’s head. It was small, maybe fifteen pounds soaking wet, with floppy ears and enormous brown eyes. “It kind of looks like a King Charles Cavalier,” she said.
The little dog looked at Theodosia with baleful brown eyes and shivered. Then it looked at Drayton and snuggled deeper into his arms.
“Looks like you’ve got a friend,” Theodosia said.
“I want to take her home and give her a bath,” Drayton said. “Try to figure out what to do.”
“Sure,” Theodosia said. “Of course.”
? ? ?
Drayton’s kitchen was warm, cozy, and well-appointed. He’d made considerable upgrades over the years, adding a countertop of reclaimed pecan, a hammered copper sink, and vintage hardware. A pair of Chippendale highboys held tins of tea and displayed part of his extensive teapot collection.
Drayton ran warm water into the sink, tested the temperature, and then gently eased the little dog into the water. “There you go. Not too hot, I hope. Just right?” He reached over and grabbed a small squeeze bottle of dish soap. “Do you think this soap is okay? I don’t have any dog shampoo.”
“What kind is it?” Theodosia asked.
“Dawn. The kind they use to clean seabirds with when they’ve been caught in an oil spill.”
“Should be okay, then.”
Drayton squirted soap into the water and fluttered a hand, producing a mound of suds. “When we’re done here,” he told the dog, “we’ll find you something tasty to eat.”
“She is awfully skinny,” Theodosia said.
“Probably just been scrabbling through trash cans for scraps.” Drayton picked up one of her front paws and scrubbed it gently, like he was doing a doggy pedicure. “We’ve got to plump this little lady up.”
“When we’re done here, I suppose we should take the poor thing to one of the local shelters.”
Drayton drew back, looking horrified at the thought. “And let them incarcerate her in some dreadful cement cell? Not on your life. Honey Bee isn’t going to end up in a place like that.”
“I was thinking more along the lines of a rescue shelter, not San Quentin. Wait a minute . . . Honey Bee? You’ve already named her?” Theodosia had always felt that once you named an animal you assigned a certain de facto personality to it. And along with that came serious responsibility. In other words, that animal was yours. For life.
Drayton was smoothing soapsuds on the dog’s back, talking quietly to ease her nervousness.
“You named her,” Theodosia said again.
“That’s right.” Scrub, scrub. “Because I’m going to keep her.”
“You’re going to keep this dog?”
Drayton gave Theodosia a sideways glance. “I’m offended that you would find that so out of character for me.”
A slow smile spread across Theodosia’s face. “Imagine that. Drayton with a dog. Our Drayton has a soft spot in his heart after all.”
Drayton touched a sudsy finger to his mouth. “Shh. Don’t you dare tell a soul.”
22
“Ask Theodosia what she did last night,” Drayton said. It was Friday morning and he was standing behind the front counter brewing a pot of Madoorie Estate tea. It was a special Assam that Haley had put in a request for.
Haley looked interested. “What did you do?”
“Oh no,” Theodosia said. “We’re not opening that can of worms. Better you should ask Drayton what he did last night.”
“What have you two got going on?” Haley asked. “Is there some big hairy problem I should know about?”
“Theodosia broke into someone’s house,” Drayton said.
“Drayton rescued a lost dog,” Theodosia said.
Haley shook her head. “You guys. Always trying to get my goat and top each other with your crazy stories. Well, it’s not gonna work today. We open in, like, twenty minutes and I’m way too busy to play games.” She waited as Drayton filled her teacup, then she cupped a hand over it and scurried back into her kitchen.
“That didn’t work out quite the way you planned, did it?” Theodosia asked.
“Do you think Haley’s been a trifle overly sensitive lately?” Drayton asked.
“Haley’s still upset about Sunday night. She bonded with Kaitlin and then basically saw the poor girl get killed right before her eyes. She’s still processing the robbery and the death.” Theodosia thought for a moment. “I think young people have a harder time handling death.”
Drayton poured out cups of tea for the two of them. “And what about you? Not that you’re not still young.”
“I passed being upset last Tuesday,” Theodosia said. “Then I dove into angry and am now veering into revenge territory.”
Drayton handed her a cup of tea. “Isn’t revenge one of the seven deadly sins?”
Theodosia took a sip of tea. “I don’t think so. But it probably should be.”
? ? ?
They worked together then, readying the tea shop. Lace place mats were laid down, their Royal Albert Country Roses china set out along with the Alexandra pattern silverware. Drayton had salvaged a few red carnations from the previous night and was arranging them in smaller bundles to go into crystal vases.