Laura Childs - [Tea Shop Mystery 04] by Laura Childs

Author:Laura Childs [Laura Childs]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 13

BLUSH NOISETTE ROSES trembled with droplets of dew. Azaleas, camellias, tea olive shrubs, and loquat entwined to create living walls of plant life. Sweet jasmine wrapped its delicate tendrils around ancient, tilting wrought iron fences that bounded Civil War graves of hand-hewn marble.

Wednesday dawned hot and humid in Charleston. And in Magnolia Cemetery, the flowers, shrubs, and magnificent live oaks draped in delicate mourning veils of Spanish moss seemed to be the only living things that were truly appreciative of the sultry summer weather.

Sitting on a flimsy black metal folding chair, Theodosia fanned herself with a program and prayed for a hint of breeze. Any breeze.

Located at the north end of the peninsula just off East Bay Street, Magnolia Cemetery was a charming, highly atmospheric, profoundly historic cemetery. Often called a "political graveyard" because so many South Carolina politicians were buried there, Magnolia Cemetery was also the final resting place for over two thousand Civil War veterans, including five Confederate brigadier generals.

Originally part of the grounds of the old Magnolia Umbria Plantation, Magnolia Cemetery was still a "working" cemetery. Many prominent Charlestonians had family plots there. Drayton's family still had a plot; so did Timothy Neville, patriarch of the Heritage Society.

Slipping out of her shoes, Theodosia wiggled her bare toes and gave a silent sigh of relief as she gazed at the backs of the mourners who occupied chairs in the two rows ahead of her. She recognized several antique dealers from the King Street area as well as a number of people from the Heritage Society.

And then there was the English Breakfast Club.

Strange thing about that. All the members of the English Breakfast Club had shown up this morning save one. Lawrence March was a no-show.

"How terribly odd," Drayton had remarked in a low whisper. "Summer Sullivan, Buddy Clark, and Professor Gibbon are all here. But no Larry March."

"Maybe he couldn't find anyone to mind his store?" Theodosia offered by way of explanation as she continued to fan herself.

Drayton raised one quivering eyebrow. "It's possible," he replied. But from the disapproving tone of his voice, Drayton wasn't allowing much leeway. In Drayton's mind, Lawrence March's absence from Harper Fisk's funeral was clearly a major social faux pas.

Strangely enough, Lawrence March's absence had shot holes in Theodosia's still-shaky theory. Still going on the supposition that Harper Fisk's death had been no accident, she had turned her scrutiny to the three remaining members of the English Breakfast Club who were present.

First and foremost in her mind was Lieutenant Benjamin "Buddy" Clark. He had popped up at the marina last Sunday I~ right after Harper Fisk's boat, the Mary Lynn, had been found. He had asked a few questions, acting despondent yet nervous. Then, surprise, surprise, someone had fired a shot at Clark the following night. Could Buddy Clark have staged the shooting incident to deflect suspicion from himself and throw it on someone else? Maybe. Did Buddy Clark even own a gun? That remained to be seen.

Then there was Professor Archibald Gibbon.

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