Theodosia decided to start with Marvin Chauvet, since he was the one closest to her. She walked up to him, a pleasant smile on her face, and said, “I stopped by Chauvet’s Smartwear this afternoon.”
“Oh yeah?” Chauvet rocked back on his heels and jingled the loose change in his pocket. Tonight he was wearing a navy blue summer-weight cashmere sweater with khaki slacks dotted with little images of fish. Dolphins maybe, or marlin.
“And, surprise surprise, I was told you don’t have an office there.”
“No, we leased space over near the Dock Street Theatre.” Chauvet gave a chuckle. “The artsy-fartsy part of town.”
Chauvet didn’t seem one bit concerned that Theodosia was questioning him about his current office locale. In fact, he seemed perfectly at ease. So . . . maybe the man had nothing to hide? Maybe he and Mrs. Chauvet were simpatico? Still, she was hesitant to drop him from her suspect list. Maybe she could push him a little harder and see how he reacted.
“Will Nadine’s passing leave a gaping hole in your organization?” she asked.
Chauvet gave a shrug. “Not really.”
“Even though this is Charleston Fashion Week with so much going on?”
“Delaine’s stepped in rather nicely, even though she still had to shoehorn in all these funeral arrangements. The good thing is, she has excellent contacts in the media and also managed to hook us up with some buyers we hadn’t been able to get close to before.”
“So you haven’t missed a step?” Theodosia said.
“Not really.” Chauvet gave a polite, noncommittal nod, said, “Excuse me,” and walked away.
Hmm.
Theodosia looked around, saw Eddie Fox, and decided to lay a few questions on him. After all, she’d since learned a few things about his lifestyle.
“I understand you’re a card-carrying member of the High Life Club,” Theodosia said to Fox as her opening gambit.
That surprised Fox. “What?” he said. Then regained his composure. “Oh, that.” He wrinkled his nose in a partial sneer and shook his head. “Don’t I wish. Unfortunately, my gonzo partying days are long gone. Now I’m a regular working stiff always on the lookout for a paying gig.”
“And you’re a well-respected filmmaker.”
“I just wish awards came with a nice fat check. Unfortunately . . .” Fox took a sip of his wine and said, “Just out of curiosity, where’d you hear about the High Life Club?”
“Idle talk around town,” Theodosia said. She saw Echo Grace waving at her from across the room and waved back.
Fox peered at her closely. “Are you a member?” The idea seemed to intrigue him.
“Hardly. Especially since my main focus is on tea.”
“That’s not what I’ve heard.”
“What have you heard?” Theodosia asked as Echo Grace, accompanied by a smiling Delaine, suddenly edged in to join them.
“I heard that you’ve been asking questions all over town,” Fox said, his voice starting to grow louder. “Concerning Nadine’s murder. What’s the deal, anyway?” As his voice carried, he started to attract attention from the people around him. “Are you some kind of crime groupie or amateur detective?” He jerked his arm, practically spilling his wine.
“Are you serious?” Delaine suddenly cried in a burst of static. “Theodosia happens to be Charleston’s number one private investigator!”
Which made Echo grin and caused Fox to take a surprised step backward.
“What?” Fox said as more people, cognizant of Delaine’s verbal outburst, were drawn to them.
Delaine put an arm around Theodosia’s shoulders and hugged her so close she was swept up in a cumulus cloud of Chanel No. 5.
“Theo is our very own Nancy Drew!” Delaine announced loudly. “Our Trixie Belden, if I may. She’s made a solemn, pinky-swear promise to Bettina that she’ll look into my dear sister’s murder.”
“You mean actually investigate?” Fox said. He seemed gobsmacked by the idea.
Thanks a lot, Delaine, Theodosia thought. Thanks for blabbing the news all over town. Now the small crowd watched her with growing curiosity.
“Of course, the murder!” Delaine cried. “Theodosia’s an absolute whiz when it comes to scoping out killers. She’s done it before and she can do it again.” Then Delaine dimpled prettily at Fox and waved a hand in front of her face as if she’d developed a sudden case of the vapors and was about to pass out. “Mr. Fox, I see you and I are both out of wine. Could I impose on you to escort me to the bar for a refill? I’m afraid all this excitement has left me feeling quite overwhelmed.”
“I . . . well, yes,” Fox said.
“Sheesh,” Echo said as she watched Delaine and Fox wander off together and their crowd of onlookers slowly dissipated. “I don’t know which one of those two is crazier.”
“They might just be the perfect match,” Theodosia said.
“Narcissist meets egotist.”
“Exactly.”
“To change the subject to something a little less bizarre, I hope you had fun at our informal modeling today,” Echo said.
“Are you kidding? I told you I was gaga over every single one of your pieces and I meant it,” Theodosia said.
“Yeah, they’re all kind of perfect in their own way, aren’t they? Soft, filmy, a little bit romantic but with a rock and roll vibe, too. You can wear them to the office or toss them in a suitcase for a fun weekend getaway.” Echo gave a mischievous grin. “Or wear them to a tea party.”
“I particularly loved the suede jacket with the feathers.”
“Ostrich,” Echo said. Then she glanced over at Nadine’s coffin and her face assumed a serious expression. “I never knew anyone who was murdered before, did you?”
“A few people,” Theodosia said. “Unfortunately.”
“This is a first for me, and it kind of weirds me out.”
“Did you know Nadine well?”
“I’d have to say we were starting to become fairly good friends,” Echo said. “Strange as it may seem, women’s fashion—at least here in Charleston—is mostly male dominated. There are a few female shop owners like Delaine and that shoe designer, Heidi Glynn, but all the designers and really successful fashion houses are either run by men or owned by men. So I’ve been trying to make it a point to hang out with other women in the industry so we can support one another. I figure it’s the only way we can stay competitive.”