“Is Sabrina going along?” Theodosia asked.
Grace waved at someone sitting across the patio. “I don’t know. Maybe.” She waved again. “Probably.” Then she pulled away. “Excuse me, my assistant is looking positively frantic. He probably has six calls holding and a couple of last-minute invitations.” And she was gone. Poof.
Theodosia pondered this new information about Sabrina and Luke Andros. Tomorrow night, for all intents and purposes, they would be leaving the country. Sailing into international waters.
Snapping her head around, Theodosia quickly located Drayton. He was standing near the makeshift bar, talking to Teddy Vickers, the man who managed the Featherbed House just down the block. Well, she would just have to interrupt him.
“Theo,” Drayton began when he saw her. “Teddy was just telling me that . . .”
“I’m sorry,” Theodosia said to Drayton. “But we have to go. Like . . . now.”
? ? ?
“What was so all-fired important that we had to leave poor Teddy standing there like that?” Drayton asked as Theodosia propelled him across the patio and into the Rosewalk Inn. She glanced around hurriedly, looking for a private spot to talk, and then yanked him into a side parlor. Painted a soft robin’s-egg blue and decorated with a rag rug, the room featured some loosely rendered watercolor paintings as well as a pale-blue love seat with needlepoint cushions.
“Sabrina and Luke Andros are sailing to South America tomorrow night,” Theodosia told him a little breathlessly.
“What?” Drayton’s reaction was one of stunned surprise. He grabbed one of the cushions and gave it a squeeze.
Theodosia slowly related everything Grace had revealed to her.
“Are they leaving before or after the Rare Antiquities Show?” Drayton asked.
Theodosia shook her head. “I have no idea, but that’s a very good question.”
Drayton looked thoughtful. “Well, the timing matters.”
“It certainly does. But just how are we supposed to find out their exact departure time? I don’t expect it’s noted in any maritime log.”
“Maybe,” Drayton said, looking thoughtful. “Maybe we should just go and ask them? Not flat out, but in a kind of casual way?”
“Huh,” Theodosia said. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
Drayton beetled his brows together. “Because I did.”
“So maybe Sabrina and Luke are over at the yacht club right now,” Theodosia said, warming to the idea even more. “Getting ready to . . .” She broke off her words. “You know what, Drayton? Asking them point-blank is kind of in-your-face, but it’s also a smart way to put them on alert.”
“Exactly,” Drayton said. “We let Sabrina and Luke know that we know they’re planning to leave town.”
Theodosia nodded. “If they’re guilty, they’ll figure we’re keeping an eye on them.”
? ? ?
Theodosia had left her Jeep parked nearby, so it was a simple matter of hopping in and driving over to the Charleston Yacht Club.
“Not so much going on over here,” Drayton observed as they drove along.
“I don’t know,” Theodosia said. “The yachts are all supposed to be lit up.”
“Well, I don’t see . . .” Drayton did a sudden double take as they spun around a corner and the harbor came into view. “Oh my, you’re right. The boats are all lit up.” He smiled, a smile so heartfelt and genuine that Theodosia knew he was utterly charmed. “Look at them, just gliding back and forth across Charleston Harbor. Like pirate ships sailing off to Neverland.”
About three dozen sailboats had been lit, stem to stern, with multiple strings of white lights. And, just as Drayton had said, they appeared to glide gracefully across the surface of the gilded moonlit water.
“Now all we have to do is find Sabrina and Luke Andros,” Theodosia said, turning into the parking lot at the Charleston Yacht Club.
But that was going to be a piece of cake. Because the very last pier, where two enormous yachts tugged at their moorings, was lit up like a Christmas tree. And so were the yachts.
“Two yachts,” Theodosia said. “He’s brought another one in.”
“It would appear there’s a party going on,” Drayton said as music and the hum of many voices floated toward them. “And judging from all the people on deck, it looks like Gold Coast Yachts is having a fairly large shindig. Do you think it’s a going-away party? Or should I say anchors aweigh?”
“This will make it even easier for us,” Theodosia said. “It means we can waltz in, hop on a boat, mingle with the crowd, and ask our innocent little question.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
But the best-laid plans often went awry. Or at least were met with serious obstacles. Because halfway down the pier, Theodosia and Drayton were stopped in their tracks by a very burly man in an ill-fitting navy-blue blazer.
“Sorry,” the man told them as he crossed his arms and blocked their way. “But this is a private party.”