Lemon Curd Killer by Laura Childs

Author:Laura Childs [Childs, Laura]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2023-03-07T00:00:00+00:00

18

The errand Theodosia had in mind was taking a quick run out to Orchard House Inn. She’d already phoned Andrea Wilts, the owner, and gotten a resounding okay. There were no major banquets or events scheduled for tonight, only a few bed-and-breakfast guests, so Theodosia’s popping in would be no big deal.

Theodosia took US 17 out of the city, hit Highway 171, then turned south on Highway 700 where she crossed the slow-moving Stono River and found herself on the largest of the barrier islands known as Johns Island. She drove a narrow, twisty road that took her past small country churches known as praise houses, the Sunnyside Goat Farm, and charming roadside markets with names such as Honey Acres and Rosemary Creek Farm. This was where onions, peas, squash, zucchini, sweet potatoes, and collards were grown, and you could pick your own strawberries in season. Every so often there’d be a small seafood market, almost like a cute little shanty, advertising fresh-caught grouper, shrimp, oysters, or blue crabs.

There were more rivers out here, too. Plus acres of marshes and cypress swamps, all rich habitat for deer, alligators, foxes, mink, bald eagles, and coyotes. In a few places, where the narrow ribbon of road dipped into low-lying areas, puffs of ground fog gave the impossibly dark green wetlands an ominous and slightly ethereal feeling.

As the dying rays of the sun skittered off her rear window, Theodosia turned down a lane edged with tamaracks and stopped in front of the Orchard House Inn. Viewed from the front it was a lovely old plantation home complete with columns and a wraparound porch. Lights glowed warmly from within, and she could see a half dozen or so people holding wineglasses as they queued up to a table that held appetizers and a wheel of cheese. She drummed her fingers against the steering wheel, then drove around to the back of the building and parked outside the kitchen door.

A few seconds later, Andrea peeped out a back window. She’d been waiting for her.

“You made good time,” Andrea said as she opened the door and welcomed Theodosia into the inn’s warm and well-lit kitchen.

“Not much traffic tonight,” Theodosia said.

“There rarely is midweek.”

“It smells wonderful in here.” Plates were set out on the counter, great aromas were coming from the oven.

“We’re serving baked squab and root vegetables tonight,” Andrea said. “Simple but heartwarming. And a little showy.” She paused. “So. You said you wanted to take a look around?”

“Just in the parlor and the cooler. Well, I guess here in the kitchen, too.”

Andrea gave a shiver. “The scene of the crime. I’m trying not to let the whole weird thing bother me, but it does feel as if this place is somehow tainted. Maybe I should burn sage or something.”

“Please don’t worry unnecessarily,” Theodosia said. “Your inn is so quaint and charming that I’m sure any bad feelings will dissipate in no time at all.”

“Hope so,” Andrea said. She turned, led Theodosia through the kitchen, and pushed open the door to the parlor.

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