Scones and bones, p.6
Scones & Bones, page 6
Huh.
She rapped again, flinching this time. Nothing. "Mr. Granville?" she called out. "Dougan?"
Still nothing. He was either ignoring her or just not hearing her.
Theodosia shuffled her feet and thought about this. Probably the latter; Granville just couldn't hear her. So now what? Placing a hand on the brass doorknob, Theodosia turned it and pushed the door, letting it swing open a foot. She called again, her voice echoing eerily through the home. Still no response.
She took one tentative step into the back hallway, which, upon closer inspection, was quite cozy and elegant. Wine-red walls; a black-and-white tiled floor; nice paintings on the wall; a small wooden bachelor's chest that held keys, briefcase, a bowl of coins, and a brass lamp with a glowing green shade.
"Mr. Granville?" she called again.
Theodosia decided Granville must have gone directly upstairs. Or maybe he was in the front of the house, in a home office, talking on the phone?
Probably puffing away like a chimney, too.
Turning to go, Theodosia took a step, stopped, then stared at the painting on the wall. Only it wasn't a painting at all, but a framed print of a fierce-looking pirate. Wild hair swirled about the man's head, a flamboyant red cape billowed out behind him, and he brandished a wicked-looking saber. At the bottom of the frame, printed in flat copperplate writing, was the name EDWARD TEACH.
The name of the subject or the illustrator? Theodosia wondered. Has to be one of them.
Slipping out and pulling the door shut, Theodosia retraced her steps. A few minutes later she was snuggled in front of her fireplace, her shawl pulled around her, a book in her lap.
She read a page, then two more pages. But she didn't seem to be absorbing the words or story line tonight, because the name Edward Teach kept tickling gently at her brain.
Why? Had she heard the name before? Or maybe she was still jazzed from last night's Pirates and Plunder show-and subsequent murder.
Theodosia let all of this percolate in her brain for a few minutes, then banished it from her thoughts. Thirty seconds later it was back at her like a bad case of heartburn. So she reached for the phone.
Drayton picked up on the second ring. "Hullo?"
"You're still up," she said.
"Just doing a little reading," said Drayton. "Catching up on my Beowulf, if you must know."
"I have a strange, slightly obscure question for you," said Theodosia.
"Fire away," said Drayton. "There's nothing better than a rousing game of Twenty Questions just as you're off for bed.”
“This has to do with pirates again."
"Of course it does," said Drayton.
"Did you ever hear of a rather flamboyant pirate by the name of Edward Teach?"
There was a short intake of breath on the line, then silence. In fact, Drayton was silent for such a long time that Theodosia figured he was pretty much stymied.
"Sorry," said Theodosia, finally filling the void. "I knew it was a long shot. Correction. Long, long shot."
"No," said Drayton, "that's not it at all. You simply caught me off guard. Fact is, I have heard of Edward Teach."
"Seriously?" Theodosia's voice rose in a squawk.
"Yes, but Mr. Teach was better known by another name," said Drayton.
"Which was?" said Theodosia, puzzled at Drayton's somewhat dodgy response.
"Blackbeard. Edward Teach was Blackbeard."
Now she was the one who was suddenly silent. "The pirate?" she finally asked. "The one whose skull was just stolen?" She was too shocked for words!
"One and the same."
Theodosia rested her head against the soft padding of her chair and thought for a long minute. "I wonder," she murmured, "why everyone is suddenly so nuts about pirates?"
7
"What's the deal with pirates?" Haley asked, as she gently patted out a wedge of dough, sprinkled a small amount of flour onto it, then positioned her scone cutter and gently dressed down.
"I don't know," said Theodosia. She was standing in the kitchen with Haley, using a wire whisk to whip fresh cream into peaks and froths.
"That's all you and Drayton have been talking about," said Haley. "Who stole the skull cup at the pirate show? Who murdered that poor intern and clobbered Camilla?"
"You were the one who wanted me to get involved," Theodosia pointed out.
"I know, but now you're puzzling about why your neighbor has a pirate picture hanging in his powder room.”
"Back hallway," said Theodosia.
"Whatever," said Haley. She picked up a piece of dough, laid it on her baking sheet, then asked, "You don't think your neighbor is involved, do you? After the little bit you've told me about him, you wouldn't just randomly leap to that conclusion, would you?"
"No, I wouldn't," said Theodosia. In the cold, clear light of day, she decided she'd probably overreacted. Dougan Granville wasn't involved because he hadn't even been at the Heritage Society on Sunday night. Or had he? Hmm, maybe she'd better check that guest list again.
"I have to admit," said Haley, "the skull cup thing is intriguing. I mean, who would abscond with the ratty old skull of some dastardly eighteenth-century pirate, then have it set in silver by a jeweler or silversmith? The whole thing is totally whacked out!"
"I agree," said Theodosia, continuing to whip away.
"You can set your whisk down now," said Haley. "I'd say you've pretty much beaten that cream into submission.”
“Okay," said Theodosia, sticking a finger in and taking a taste. "I can't believe you always do this by hand. Aren't you afraid of getting carpal tunnel syndrome?"
"Naw, I'm a pro."
"You sure are," Theodosia agreed, reaching for a bright red carnival glass dish.
"What I think you should do," said Haley, cutting out her final scone and placing it on her baking sheet, "is get in touch with that archaeologist we know, Tred Pascal. Try to pick his brain." She smiled at her handiwork, slid the whole shebang into the oven, set the timer, then wiped her hands on her apron.
"You just want to date him," said Drayton.
Theodosia and Haley both glanced over to find Drayton standing ramrod straight in the doorway.
Haley cocked her head to one side and shrugged back her long blond hair. "What is it about my social life, Drayton, that has you so whipped up?"
"Not a thing," said Drayton. "You can see whoever you please. Doesn't matter to me."
"Sure it does," said Haley. "You're like one of those old families in the social register. All in a tizzy about finding a proper escort for their debutante daughter. For the grand cotillion ball or something equally stupid."
"I'm not, either," protested Drayton.
"You kind of are," said Theodosia.
"Anyway," said Haley, "why shouldn't we call Tred and tell him about that skull cup?"
"Because," said Drayton, "that skull cup's connected to u murder. And we've got enough going on without tossing somebody else into the mix!"
Theodosia grabbed Drayton by the arm and pulled him back out into the tea room. It was always better to give Drayton a defined task to do, to keep him occupado.
"I'm thinking of brewing a pot of Indian spice tea today," said Drayton, once he'd squinted at the myriad of tea tins that were stacked floor to ceiling on wooden shelves behind the counter.
"Sounds perfect," said Theodosia. She glanced at the clock overhead and saw they had maybe ten minutes before they opened for business. "And what about Formosan oolong? That's always a big hit.”
Drayton reached up to the top shelf and grabbed a tin. "Then I shall indulge you."
"Not me," smiled Theodosia, "our customers."
"Of course," said Drayton, taking a Brown Betty teapot off a shelf, then rethinking his choice and grabbing a yellow floral teapot instead. "Don't forget," he said, "we have that group of antique dealers coming in at noon."
"How many again?" Theodosia asked.
"Four or five, at least," said Drayton. "And I'm thinking of doing a blue-and-white theme. For the table decor, I mean.”
“Always a classic look," agreed Theodosia. She was dithering over candles and knew it. The small white votive lights or the tall pink tapers?
Drayton shifted his teapot from one hand to the other. "You're preoccupied," he said. "No doubt still mulling over that Edward Teach painting."
"Print," said Theodosia. "Fact is, I'm not a big believer in coincidences, but ... seeing it was a little strange."
"You think your next-door neighbor is a pirate aficionado?" Theodosia reached up with an index finger and scratched her nose. "Maybe. Or he just likes that particular image. Or maybe it's just there to hide a crack in the wall."
"I wonder," said Drayton, "was Granville at the Heritage Society Sunday night?"
Even though she'd entertained the same thought, Drayton's question suddenly made Theodosia uneasy. "Where are you going with this?" she asked.
Drayton's stared at her. "It's a simple question."
"Maybe not so simple," said Theodosia. "In any case, I haven't the foggiest idea. I didn't see his name on the invited guest list, but that doesn't mean much since the event was open to the public."
"Then you have to call Granville," Drayton said. "Find out for sure, so you can put your mind at ease."
"Are you crazy?" said Theodosia. "I can't just call Granville and ask him a question like that. He'll think I'm a complete and utter nut job!"
Drayton let one eyebrow quiver for a millisecond. "But you're more than a little curious. Admit it."
"Yes," said Theodosia. "Who wouldn't be? In light of ... well, you know."
"So call and ask."
"Come on," said Theodosia, "it's the absolute wrong thing to do."
"Why do you say that?" asked Drayton.
Theodosia searched her mind for a really good reason.
Finally she found one. "Okay, here's the thing. What if Granville was somehow involved? If I call and ask about Sunday night, he'll think I'm running some kind of investigation."
"Which you are," said Drayton. "But if Granville wasn't at the Heritage Society ..."
"Then he'll just think I'm a nosy neighbor."
"Which you also are," said Drayton, looking pleased. "You're the one who crept up his sidewalk and peeped in the back door. Opened Pandora's box, so to speak."
Still, Theodosia was reluctant. "You want me to just call Oranville and ask him flat out if he was at the Pirates and Plunder show?"
"Absolutely not," said Drayton, "I'd be shocked if you did anything that obvious. But I have great faith in you. I'm sure you'll figure out a clever, disarming way to phrase your question."
Just as Drayton predicted, Theodosia did find a way to broach the subject to Granville.
"There's something I should have asked you last night when I ran into you," Theodosia said to Granville, once she'd made it past not one but three different gatekeepers at his law firm and finally had her neighbor on the phone.
"What's that?" asked Granville. He sounded busy. Harried, even.
"I have something of yours," said Theodosia, trying to sound friendly and even a little coy.
"What?" snapped Granville. "What are you talking about?"
"Something you must have dropped," said Theodosia. "When you were at the Heritage Society on Sunday night." She paused. "You were there, right?"
"Unfortunately, yes," said Granville. "A waste of time though, considering the evening ended so badly."
"I think you might have dropped a ticket," Theodosia continued, trying to sound breezy and casual, even though her heart had started to hammer in her chest. "An orange ticket? Um, it maybe fell out of your pocket?"
"No," said Granville. "If you found something, it's not mine.”
“Really," said Theodosia. "You're sure?"
"I'm sure," he said.
"Okay then," said Theodosia, trying to figure out how to keep Granville on the line. How to ask him another question. Finally she stuttered out, "I take it you're a pirate fan?"
"I am," Granville grunted, "in fact, I'm a card-carrying member of the jolly Roger Club."
"You mean like ... a pirate club?" She giggled, to make her question seem silly. "With secret handshakes and a real, hideout?"
"No, no," said Granville. "We're basically memorabilia collectors."
"And you have lots of pirate memorabilia?"
"I lent two of my own jolly Roger flags to the Heritage Society's exhibition."
Theodosia paused and decided to take a wild stab. "If you're a collector, I'll bet you would have loved to get your hands on that skull cup."
Granville hesitated for a split second, then said, "You have no idea."
"The Jolly Roger Club," said Theodosia.
Standing at the counter, enveloped in an aromatherapy-like swirl of malty Assam, sweet, earthy Yunnan, and fragrant oolong, Drayton stared back at her. Clearly, he hadn't expected Granville to be involved at all.
"It's a kind of club," Theodosia told him. "That Granville belongs to. In fact, he's actually one of the memorabilia collectors you mentioned."
"I mentioned them only in the abstract," said Drayton, giving a quick, pinched frown.
"Yes, but now it's poured in concrete," said Theodosia. "Granville just told me so, like ten seconds ago." She glanced sideways to survey the tea room. The early-morning customers had come for their scones and cuppa and since departed. Now they had the folks who'd "come for elevenses," as Drayton so aptly phrased it. But only three tables were occupied at the moment, so they had a little latitude to ponder this new wrinkle before the luncheon crowd came charging in. "Interesting," said Drayton.
"And a little creepy, right?" said Theodosia.
"Though Granville did offer a logical reason for why he was there."
"But when I mentioned the stolen skull cup, he went a I ittle gaga," said Theodosia. "I had the feeling he would have loved to add it to his collection."
"Obviously someone already did," said Drayton.
"They certainly did," said Theodosia. "Now we just have to figure out who."
"Okay, you two," said Haley, emerging from the kitchen with a pen and spiral notebook, "it's time to stop swanning around and go over today's luncheon menu." She flipped a page and looked at them with dancing, mischievous eyes.
"Haley," said Drayton, "you're a stickler for efficiency." The corners of Haley's mouth twitched. "You taught me well, Drayton.”
"What wonderful offerings will we be serving our customers today?" asked Theodosia.
"I just pulled two pans of eggnog scones from the oven," said Haley, "and are they ever good!"
"That's a brand-new recipe?" asked Drayton. "Eggnog scones?"
"From my grandma's receipt book," said Haley, "and they're delicious if I do say so myself. We'll serve 'em piping hot with plenty of strawberry jam."
"What else?" asked Drayton.
"White bean soup," said Haley, "with broth a little on the creamy side. Smoked turkey and cranberry cream cheese tea sandwiches. And a baby field green salad with avocados, white asparagus, candied walnuts, and blue cheese. Customers can order each item separately, or as a soup and sandwich combo, or they can have all three."
"The Full Monty," said Drayton.
Haley glanced at Theodosia. "Theo, you can work out a special price for the full complement, right?"
"Of course," said Theodosia. “And you know about the antique dealers coming in at one o'clock?"
"Drayton's already briefed me," said Haley. "In fact, I'm baking some special pumpkin walnut bars from a recipe he gave me."
"So we're set," said Theodosia.
"Not quite," said Haley.
"Now what?" asked Drayton.
Haley's eyes narrowed and she said, "Tell me more about that orange ticket you found."
8
True to Drayton's word, his table setting incorporated a blue-and-white theme. White linen tablecloth with white napkins edged in blue. Spode blue-and-white salad plates supplemented with a variety of teacups, small plates, and rice bowls, all ranging from the palest blue to deep cobalt blue and decorated with Chinese tea house scenes, florals, and chintz patterns.
"All it took was that first frigate loaded with blue-and-white export ware," said Drayton, standing back to make a final inspection of his table. "Once Europeans caught sight of those magnificent pieces, the love affair was on."
"And still is," said Theodosia. "Of all the antique teapots and teacups we sell out of our gift corner, Chinese blue-and-white pieces are by far the most popular."
"But not the easiest to find anymore," said Drayton. "Getting tougher and tougher," agreed Theodosia. When she'd first opened the Indigo Tea Shop a few years back, she'd scoured the surrounding counties, hunting through antique shops, tag sales, and rummage sales for antique tea ware. Back then, it was fairly easy to find orphan teacups, teapots, and the odd piece of silver that she could wash, polish, and use in the tea room or sell for a small profit. And the blue-and-white pieces had been simple to find. Now it seemed like there was a plethora of florals and chintzes, but blue-and-whites were fewer and farther between.
“And I put together a lovely centerpiece," said Drayton, placing a large blue-and-white pitcher filled with white peonies in the center of the table.
"Perfection," said Theodosia, as she lit a pair of tall white tapers.
And then they were off and running. Customers drifted in, some with reservations, some who'd just been walking the historic district and been drawn in by the fragrant aromas that wafted out the door.
Now every table but the center circular one was filled, and the Indigo Tea Shop buzzed with activity. Theodosia stepped deftly between tables, delivering lunch plates, offering refills on tea, getting seconds on scones, and refilling small bowls of lemon curd and Devonshire cream. She noted that Haley's eggnog scones were a huge hit and decided she'd have to snatch one before the whole lot was just a fragrant memory.
