Page 57 of Murder in the Tea Leaves

The smoothie proved to be cool, delicious, and so thick that Theodosia had to use a spoon. Enjoying her treat immensely, she wandered over to one of the park’s benches and sat down while Earl Grey collapsed in a heap at her feet. As she ate, she thought back over the day, almost chuckling at how bizarre it had been. Delivering a special-order coffee cake to Adler and then volunteering to tea-dye a dress for him, hosting their Vintage Tea, rushing more food over to Brittlebank Manor, and then getting locked in the attic only to escape via an alternative yet creative route.

And now she was sitting here, stars twinkling in a tuxedo black sky, breezes off the Atlantic stirring up ions in the air, waves slapping quietly against a nearby pier.

A decent ending to the day.

Deciding it was probably time to start for home, Theodosia stood up and gave a tug on the leash she’d casually looped over her arm. Earl Grey was ready, too. He clambered to his feet and walked along beside her as she finished her smoothie.

That’s when another of the food trucks caught Theodosia’s eye. It was the Rocco’s Ribs truck, a white, squared-off van that must have been hastily painted with a kind of whitewash. But not painted over particularly well because on the back of the truck, in very faint letters, you could still make out the words deveroux electric.

Theodosia looked again, blinking hard as her brain registered what she was looking at. What was left of her smoothie dropped—SPLAT!—on the pavement. A nervous buzz spread slowly through her body.

Wait just a gol-darned minute. Deveroux Electric? Seriously?

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As in Helene Deveroux? As in Helene’s dead husband who’d no doubt been the owner of Deveroux Electric?

Is this something I need to investigate? Oh yes, I think it most definitely is. Because if Helene Deveroux was connected to Deveroux Electric, maybe she knew something about…

Theodosia shook her head to dispel that thought. No sense conjuring up bigger, crazier problems.

Yet she was fizzing with a knowledge that something was definitely wrong here. That something strange was going on. She looked down at her ruined smoothie and saw that Earl Grey was staring at it, too.

“C’mon,” Theodosia said to him. “We gotta go.” And with that, they cut across the park and down King Street, heading for Helene’s shop, the Sea Witch.

And all the way Theodosia kept telling herself, This is crazy, Helene’s not going to be there. Her shop probably isn’t open in the evening. But still…

She spun down King Street anyway, passed Lanier & Love Fine Bedding and Borchard’s Jewelers, and came to a dead stop directly in front of Helene’s shop. The Sea Witch was housed in a redbrick building with white trim and three tall, narrow front windows. Antique pots and ceramic statues were on display in one window; a few pieces of maritime art and some old lanterns and portholes were arranged in the other two.

Theodosia hadn’t been sure what she would find here. But, heavens to Betsy, there was a light on inside! Heaving a sigh, Theodosia decided that maybe Helene was here after all, working late. And that she could clear up this mess right now. Helene would confess that she was a complete ditz when it came to electrical wiring and the two of them could have a good laugh over it.

After all, Helene couldn’t have, wouldn’t have…

Would she?

The image of sparks flying off Josh Morrow’s writhing body lingered in Theodosia’s head.

No, this has to be a weird coincidence. Although maybe Helene…

No. Theodosia’s mind really didn’t want to go there.

She peered in the small window on the front door of the Sea Witch, then knocked softly. There was no answer, no one moving about inside. But there was definitely a light on in back, as if somebody had stayed to work late. Maybe in a storeroom or office?

Touching the doorknob, not expecting it to turn, Theodosia found that the door was actually open a tick. She thought that was a little strange, but she squared her shoulders anyway and pushed her way in, wondering what she’d find.

Stepping across the threshold was like stepping into a jewelry store. There were rows and rows of low glass cases that contained antique ceramics, old Spanish coins, brass clocks, rare books, and old pistols. Shelves against the wall held an antique jeweled crown, ships’ wheels, an old brass sextant, silver candlesticks, brass portholes, and lots more.

“Be careful,” Theodosia whispered to Earl Grey. “Try not to bump or touch anything.”

Now that she was inside she could hear faint music playing. The radio maybe, or one of those subscription music services that businesses often used. At any rate, she recognized a homogenized version of “Do You Know the Way to San Jose.”

“Hello,” Theodosia called out. “Anybody here?”

There was no answer.

“Helene?” Theodosia ventured again.

Still no answer.

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