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“What I’m still wondering,” said Drayton as he sat with Theodosia and sipped his cup of Irish breakfast tea on this Wednesday morning, “is who that curly-haired guy talking to Jamie last night was.”

Theodosia looked up from her day planner, where she’d been jotting notes. “You mean the one who sprinted away from me?”

“Precisely.”

“I’ve been thinking about that myself. Whoever he was, it looked as if he was having a relatively friendly conversation with Jamie, so I can’t imagine he meant him any harm.”

“So that’s a good thing? He’s not someone who should be on our suspect list?”

“Not unless we run into him again and have just cause,” Theodosia said.

“Hey, you guys, look what I got!” Haley called out as she strolled toward them. She was carrying a silver tray heaped with orange and almond scones and had a box of chocolates tucked under one arm.

“Scones for takeout,” Theodosia said.

“And do I see a box of chocolates?” Drayton said, his eyes gleaming as he reached out a hand. “Let me see.” He had a ferocious sweet tooth and was your basic chocoholic.

Haley handed Drayton the box of candy.

“Mm, this is different from our Church Street Chocolates. Looks like chocolate-covered cherries,” Drayton said, studying the label. “Where’d they come from?”

“One of our suppliers left them at the back door,” Haley said. “It’s like, you know, swag. Like the bunches of fresh herbs my greengrocer leaves, or when Phillipe’s Bakery slips in a few extra French baguettes. Hey, are you gonna open that candy?”

“Um…maybe.” Drayton looked like he was ready to rip the box open with his teeth.

But Theodosia, who was right in the middle of going over plans for today’s Victorian Halloween Tea, said, “Perhaps we can sample those cherries later. Seeing as how we still need to finalize a few details.”

“I’ll stick ’em behind the counter for safekeeping,” Haley said, taking the box back from Drayton.

Drayton gazed at it fondly, then turned his focus back to Theodosia. “How many guests today?” he asked.

Theodosia tapped her pen against the side of her day planner. “I just looked at the numbers and we’ve got forty-nine. In a tea shop that normally seats around forty-two.”

“We had two cancellations late yesterday, then four people called this morning, clamoring for reservations. You know me, I couldn’t say no,” Drayton said. “So now we’re oversold.”

“It’s a problem, but one we can probably deal with. If we set up an additional table—there’s an extra one in back—and then wedge seven guests around a table that ordinarily seats six, we should just about make it.”

“I can do the setting up if you can do the wedging in.”

Theodosia studied her guest list. “Mrs. Conroy is a fairly tiny person. So is Mrs. Maynard. If we stick those two at the same table, we should be fine.”

“Done,” Drayton said. Then, “You realize we have tickets for the Vampyre Ballet tomorrow night.”

“You mentioned that a few days ago.”

“And you blew it off.”

“Apologies, I didn’t mean to. It’s because I was all kerfuffled over Bettina’s wedding. Or rather, her non-wedding.”

“No harm done,” Drayton said.

Theodosia rested her elbows on the table and leaned forward, stretching out a kink in her neck. “Refresh my memory, will you?”

“The Wild Dunes Ballet Company is putting on a special torchlight performance at the Heritage Society tomorrow night. On their back patio. I believe it’s what they call an interpretive dance.”

“Please tell me you didn’t volunteer us to serve tea.”

“Certainly not,” Drayton said. “All we have to do is show up and enjoy ourselves. Nibble some hors d’oeuvres, sip a glass of red wine, and enjoy the program.”

“This is a Halloween event?”

“Right. I believe the title of the program is Wilding on All Hallows’ Eve.”

“Do we have to wear a costume?”

“The invitation said costumes were encouraged but not mandatory.”

“Rats, that means we have to wear a costume,” Theodosia said. “And I don’t have one.”

“You’ve got more clothes than Macy’s has inventory.”

“Clothing, yes. Costumes, no,” Theodosia said.

“Why can’t you wear a long black dress, loop a bunch of pearl necklaces around your neck, and go as a sophisticated vampire? Like Catherine Deneuve in The Hunger .”

“Wait. You watch vampire films?”

Drayton deflected her question. “It’d give you a chance to wear your witchy black boots.”

“The expensive black leather lace-up boots that Delaine talked me into buying,” Theodosia said, a thoughtful look on her face. “The ones that pinch my toes.”

“But they are exceedingly stylish.”

“Yoo-hoo,” Miss Dimple called out as she pushed open the front door and let in a whoosh of fresh, cool air. “I came in early, just like you asked.”

Drayton jumped up from his chair and hurried over to greet her. “And isn’t that just the most delightful thing,” he said as he helped her off with her coat. “We appreciate your coming in again to help.”

“Today’s your Victorian Halloween Tea, right?” Miss Dimple said.

“Yup, and we have an extra large group of guests,” Theodosia explained.

“I oversold us,” Drayton said, looking pleased.

Miss Dimple gave the tea room an appraising look. “Lots of guests,” she murmured. “In that case, maybe we should start decorating?”

“I wasn’t going to,” Theodosia said slowly. “But now that you mention it…” She nodded to herself, thinking, then said, “Right, let’s do it. It’ll make for a fun atmosphere for our morning tea drinkers. And then we’ll have that task out of the way.”

“Excellent idea,” Drayton said. “Especially since you’ve already staged the decor in your office.” He glanced at his watch. “But is there enough time? We open in twenty minutes.”

“There’s time,” Theodosia said. “If we really shake our tail feathers.”

Miss Dimple gave a delighted little wiggle and said, “That I can do.”

“Then I’d better hurry up and grab that extra table,” Drayton said.

When all the tables were set up and positioned closer together than usual, Theodosia and Miss Dimple covered them with black tablecloths, then added see-through lace tablecloths that Haley had dyed purple. Silver candelabras with tall black candles were placed in the center of the tables, along with crystal balls and white pumpkins.

“It’s beginning to look spooky in here,” Drayton remarked from his perch behind the front counter.

“Wait until we get the cobwebs up,” Theodosia said.

She and Miss Dimple opened packages of fake cobwebs, stretched them out until they looked like delicate spiderwebs, then draped the cobwebs from the chandelier to the cupboards, and then to the tops of all the windows.

“Very nice,” Drayton said, admiring their work. “But no spiders?”

“No spiders,” Miss Dimple said.

With the cobwebs they had left over, Theodosia and Miss Dimple webbed the front counter, the front door, and a good part of Drayton’s floor-to-ceiling tea shelves.

“How am I going to find anything?” Drayton wondered. Then added, “But on the plus side, it does look highly atmospheric. Like taking high tea in Dr. Frankenstein’s laboratory.”

Morning cream tea was easily handled with just a few local shopkeepers dropping in for a quick cuppa as well as a few guests from nearby bed and breakfasts.

At ten thirty Lois Chamberlain came in with her little dachshund, Pumpkin, riding in a bookbag she had slung over one shoulder. Lois was a retired librarian who owned Antiquarian Books just down the block and had recently become a tea devotee. Today, Lois was dressed like a grad student, in jeans, an oversized sweater, and clogs, while Pumpkin wore a bright orange bandanna around her neck and sported her usual long-haired, dappled coat.

“I love what you’ve done to the place!” Lois exclaimed. “ Très spooky!”

“You like it?” Drayton said.

“It looks like a classy bat cave,” Lois chuckled. “Isn’t it fun to get into the spirit of the moment—or should I say spirits since it’s almost Halloween?” She glanced down at Pumpkin, who peeped out of her bag. “Look at this place, Pumpkin, isn’t it fun?”

Pumpkin let loose a sharp bark.

“She approves,” Lois said.

“Would you and Pumpkin like a table?” Theodosia asked Lois. She’d never balked at the idea of having dogs in the tea shop. Even Earl Grey, as large as he was, sometimes put in an appearance.

“I can only do takeout today,” Lois said. “Pumpkin and I are on our way to a book sale over in Summerville. A private collector died, and the heirs called me to come have first look. Of course, they’re probably going to overinflate the value of the books.”

“You can negotiate a fair price,” Drayton said. “I have faith in your business acumen.”

“More faith than I do,” Lois said. “So, Drayton, whatcha got brewing this morning?”

“I have fresh-brewed pots of spiced plum, lemon verbena, and oolong tea, all ready to go.”

“Give me an extra large cup of the oolong.”

“And a scone?” Drayton asked.

“Absolutely.”

“We have ginger scones right here, and I believe Haley has some white chocolate scones in the kitchen.”

Lois pointed to a scone in the glass cake saver. “The ginger scones are fine,” she said as Drayton poured her tea, then placed a scone in an indigo blue paper bag. “Can you put it on my tab? ’Cause I really gotta bounce.”

“Not a problem,” Drayton said. But he didn’t, because he never ran a tab for Lois. For her, it was all gratis.

As Lois was running out the door, the psychic was coming in.

“Oh wow,” Lois said, when she caught sight of Madame Aurora. “You’re wearing an actual cape! Purple with silver moons and stars.” And then she was gone.

“Don’t mind Lois,” Theodosia said as she went over to greet the psychic. “She’s one of our crazy neighbors.”

“I knew that,” Madame Aurora said. Then, when Theodosia looked surprised, said, “Gotcha. It was just a guess.”

“Nicely done,” Theodosia said. “So…we’ve got you over here at this small table by the fireplace. It’s cozy and kind of private for when my guests want to drop by and do a tarot reading with you. Oh, and I draped the table in black velvet. I hope that works for you?”

“It’s perfect,” Madame Aurora said. She was mid-fifties with dark eyes, heavily penciled brows, and a small rosebud-shaped mouth. Beneath her purple cape she wore a ruffled red blouse and a long black skirt. A half dozen beaded necklaces and silver amulets hung around her neck. A genuine turban was nestled in the crook of one arm, and she wore quaint-looking black velvet slippers that turned up at the toes. Kind of like elf shoes.

With an hour and a half to go before their Victorian Halloween Tea, Theodosia brought out a container of red roses. The tips of the roses had been carefully dipped in black paint, thanks to a little extra work at Flora Dora, the florist down the street. Now all Theodosia had to do was arrange them in crystal vases.

“That’s a stunning effect on those roses,” Drayton said. “Beautiful, but a little sinister-looking, too.” He turned and said, “Miss Dimple, what do you think of…Miss Dimple?” His voice rose in sudden concern.

“What?” Miss Dimple croaked. She was swaying slightly as she clutched the back of a chair, hanging on for dear life.

At that exact moment, Haley came speeding out of the kitchen, stopped in her tracks when she spotted Miss Dimple, and said, “Miss Dimple, what’s wrong? You look like you’re…in fact you are…turning positively green.”

“And my stomach is churning like a broken washing machine,” Miss Dimple said in a quavering voice. She gripped the back of the chair tighter. “I don’t feel so good.”

“Maybe something you ate?” Drayton said.

“That’s the problem, I didn’t eat anything.” Miss Dimple frowned, touched a hand to a flushed pink cheek, and said, “No, I did eat something. I had one of those chocolates that were stashed behind the counter. Or maybe I ate two?”

“On an empty stomach?” Drayton asked.

Miss Dimple nodded.

“Maybe too rich for you,” Drayton said.

“Or too much sugar?” Haley said. “That can do a number on an empty stomach.” Madame Aurora looked over and gave a concerned nod.

“I’m calling an Uber,” Theodosia said. “We need to send you home to bed.”

“Good idea,” Drayton said.

“But then you’ll be left shorthanded,” Miss Dimple worried.

“We’ll manage,” Theodosia said. “It’s you I’m worried about.”

Once Theodosia had put Miss Dimple in the quickly arriving Uber, she went back into the tea shop, ready to dig in.

“There’s a call for you!” Drayton cried from behind the counter.

Theodosia rushed over, grabbed the phone, and said, “Theodosia here.”

“Theodosia? This is Isabelle Franklin, the manager at the Dove Cote Inn.”

“Yes, Isabelle. What can I do for you?”

“Do you know Bettina West?”

“Sure do.”

“Well, she’s over here and making quite a scene.”

“Bettina’s at the Dove Cote Inn right now?” Theodosia was confused. “And she’s…wait, what is she doing?”

“She’s extremely upset. A few minutes ago she crashed a commercial club luncheon we were hosting in one of our meeting rooms and accosted one of our guests.”

“Oh boy, do you know which guest it was?”

“A man named Martin Hunt.”

The Hunt and Peck guy. “And what’s Bettina doing now?”

“I brought her to my office and now she’s sitting here crying,” Isabelle said.

“Did you call her aunt, Delaine Dish?”

“I did, and Delaine said to call you.”

“Ah,” Theodosia said. Thanks a lot, Delaine. She looked at her watch and sighed. If she took off now, maybe, just maybe, she could squeeze in this weird errand. “Okay, Isabelle. I’ll be right over.”