The Rosewalk Inn was named for the multitude of rosebushes that graced its back garden. Though most of the floribundas, polyanthas, and English roses were no longer in bloom, there were a few pink Chinese roses standing tall.
“Mr. Chandler must have grown these in a hothouse,” Drayton said. “Then transplanted them here especially for tonight.” His eyes traveled down the rosebush to study the area around the roots. “Yes, that’s exactly what that sly fox did.”
“Can’t put anything past you, Drayton,” Theodosia said. Then her eyes caught sight of what had to be the Fire Garden and she said, “Oh my, take a look at this.”
Theodosia and Drayton stepped past the expanse of rosebushes and onto the back patio. A huge circle of enormous rocks, à la Stonehenge, had been arranged in the middle. Inside were concentric circles of rocks that stepped up to form a large rock pyramid in the middle. Every one of the rocks had an enormous flaming candle on top of it.
“This looks like an image straight out of Dante’s Inferno,” Drayton said, though he was clearly intrigued.
“It’s a gorgeous display,” Theodosia said. “It really is a Fire Garden.” Flames danced and licked atop red, yellow, and orange candles that dripped rivulets of wax down the stones. But the arrangement didn’t look one bit hokey. It looked almost . . . sacrificial.
“There’s a bar over there,” Drayton said, gazing across the dozen wrought-iron tables and chairs where guests were camped out. “Should we grab a table and have ourselves a cocktail?” He gestured toward the bar. “Or maybe a glass of wine?”
“Chardonnay, if they’ve got it. Or anything dry.”
Drayton sped away. “Coming right up.”
Spotting a table that was unoccupied, Theodosia hurried to grab it. Just as she pulled out a chair, someone clamped a hand on the chair adjacent to her. She glanced up quickly, surprised to see the two FBI agents who’d been practically haunting her shop.
“Hello,” she said. “I was wondering when I’d see you two again.”
Agent Zimmer nodded politely to her while Hurley actually smiled.
“Still working the case?” Theodosia asked, even though she pretty much knew the answer. Of course they were. They were jackhammering away like crazy.
“Absolutely we are,” Zimmer said.
“That’s good to know,” Theodosia said. She glanced around. Drayton was still standing at the bar ordering glasses of wine, and nobody else had taken notice of the two agents, even though they were dressed like a couple of G-men in a made-for-TV movie. “I assume you’re here because you’ve been talking to Professor Shepley? Interviewing him because he crashed the Heart’s Desire event?”
“You knew he was staying here?” Zimmer asked. “At this particular inn?”
Theodosia smiled demurely.
“If you had knowledge that he was staying here, that means you’ve been meddling,” Hurley said.
“She sees him as a suspect,” Zimmer said.
“I don’t really know if he is or isn’t,” Theodosia said. “I’d have to defer to your judgment on that.”
Zimmer exchanged a knowing glance with Hurley and then said, “We’ve done a careful assessment of Shepley and don’t believe he poses any immediate threat.”
“That’s good to know,” Theodosia said just as Drayton arrived with two glasses of wine.
“Gentlemen, if I had known . . .” Drayton indicated the wineglasses he held in his hands.
Zimmer put up a hand as the two of them backed away. “No, no. Thanks for the offer, but we have to get going.”
“Nice to see you again,” Theodosia called after them as she and Drayton sat down.
“What were they doing here?” Drayton asked as he slid a glass of wine in front of her. “Oh, and it’s Chablis rather than Chardonnay, if that’s all right with you.”
“Just fine. And it seems our FBI friends have cleared Professor Shepley of any wrongdoing. If their story can be believed.”
Drayton frowned. “Shepley? I just ran into him at the bar. He was ordering a Dubonnet.”
“He’s here?” Theodosia spun around in her chair. “Where?” Her eyes searched what had turned into a sizable crowd on the patio. “Oh, I see him.”
“We should probably leave the man in peace,” Drayton said.
At which point Theodosia jumped up and waved at him wildly. “Professor Shepley,” she cried. “Over here. Come on over here.”
Shepley noticed her waving and visibly flinched. Then, head down, he all but reluctantly strolled toward their table. The three of them exchanged somewhat formal greetings, and then Shepley didn’t waste any time mincing words.
“I’m leaving Charleston,” he told them. “Driving back to Savannah first thing tomorrow.”
“We’re sorry to hear that,” Theodosia said. “I take it your research here is finished?”
“Not at all,” Shepley said. “But I no longer feel welcome.”