The Brighton Pavilion, one of the larger rooms in the Woodfill Conference Center, gave one the feeling of being outdoors. The walls were light green—bright and fresh—with gleaming white trim. Suspended in a long row overhead were Venetian chandeliers in faceted glass of crystal and emerald, the glass pendants sparkling like dew-covered leaves in sunshine. Jeff had been in here once before, but he hadn’t been aware of its color or design. He’d been too absorbed with the prospect of seeing the cabaret set for the very first time.
Even now, he saw the room as simply a flamboyant backdrop to a looming, dark scene.
Jeff walked in forty-five minutes before his guests were told to arrive. Several security guards were posted around the room.
Curtis Pettigrew had put in his dentures. The smile they created wasn’t echoed in the old man’s eyes. He was seated near the long display case in order to keep an eye on the cabaret set. Jeff’s mind superimposed a vision over the scene, and he saw how Pettigrew would look in a few days, seated beside a casket that held the other treasure of his life. Jeff’s heart went out to the old man. This must be a tremendous strain, having to wait before returning home to make arrangements for his wife’s funeral. He walked over and stooped beside Pettigrew. “I want you to know, I appreciate your help with this. I couldn’t pull it off without you.”
“The Good Book tells us to let the dead bury the dead. I used to wonder what that meant, but now I know. I can’t do anything to help Josie, but maybe I can do some good here.” He leaned closer and Jeff saw a brief spark in the cloudy eyes. The old man whispered, “Besides, she’d love it that her tea set helped capture a criminal.”
“Let’s hope we make her proud, then.”
Jeff discreetly checked behind a folding screen that concealed a service entrance to the room. He made sure the door was unlocked and was surprised to find that everything was already in order on the other side. After that, he arranged three small rows of chairs so that they faced the display case and podium.
The Pavilion’s double doors opened, and Jeff watched as his guests began arriving.
Ben and Jennifer Hurst walked up and began admiring the set. The couple might not always get into the hunt, but it was rewarding to know they had an eye and a spirit for antiques.
Pettigrew was standing beside them, pointing out details. The couple oohed and ahhed over the set’s unparalleled beauty, and Pettigrew’s face was filled with something Jeff could only describe as a poignant mix of pride and pain.
They looked up and greeted Jeff as he approached.
“We were so excited to learn that the auction was being moved up,” Jennifer said.
Jeff smiled. “I think several people feel the same way. I’m glad you made it.”
“I wouldn’t miss it.” Jennifer turned back toward the display case. “I’ve never seen anything like it, have you? And to think that the Empress Josephine actually sat in her chambers in Paris and sipped tea from it.”
“It’s remarkable, isn’t it? To know without doubt that these pieces were once in the presence of such astounding history.”
“Excuse me.”
Jeff turned toward the soft, tiny voice.
“Trudy! I was afraid you wouldn’t get my message.”
She smiled. “I got it a few minutes ago, Mr. Talbot. But what did you mean, ‘We’re having a tea party?’ I’m sure you know it’s not proper for morning.”
Jeff laughed, then said to the others, “Shall we show her?”
All four of them pivoted away from the glass and stood two by two, creating a sort of wall on either side of the display.
Trudy’s breath caught as if she’d just seen Moses part the waters.
Ben led her to the case, then said to Jeff, “I think we’ll check out some of the other items.”
Jennifer added a warning. “Don’t start the bidding without us.”
Trudy’s eyes were wide with wonder. “Is it? Is it really Blanche’s long-lost tea set?”
“Yes, it really is.”
Wonder was replaced with urgency. “We have to get it back for her, Mr. Talbot. We just have to. Somehow.”
“I’m going to try, Trudy.”
“Trying isn’t good enough.”
“Trust me, Trudy, all right?”
“Okay, I’ll try.”
“Trying isn’t good enough.”
She only smiled, then took a seat in the back row.
Jeff looked several times for Asia Graham, Lily Chastain, and Ruth Ann Longan. The threesome wasn’t there yet.
He watched Ingrid Schreiber walk in, carrying herself with a surety that didn’t completely register in her vivid blue eyes. She was dressed in a similar ensemble to the one she wore when she’d come to his room earlier, only this one was black instead of navy. She, too, sat in the back row. The Hursts took seats in the center row.
It was almost time to begin. Jeff was beginning to worry about the three older women when at last he saw tiny Ruth Ann walk through the door and then turn to look back like a mother duck checking on her brood. Eventually, Asia and Lily hobbled in on the black walking sticks they’d been carrying the night Jeff met them.
The three made their way slowly toward him. When they arrived, Asia and Lily dropped into two chairs in the front row, leaving a vacant one between them for Ruth Ann.
“I’m terribly sorry we kept you waiting, Jeffrey,” Ruth Ann said. “It takes longer and longer for us to get everything packed and squared away.”
“No need to apologize. I was only concerned that you’d run into problems.”
Asia scooted around in the chair, obviously trying to find a comfortable position, and said, “No problems that a new odometer on an old body wouldn’t fix.”
Ruth Ann peered into the display case. “My, what a pretty thing.” She turned to Jeff. “I don’t understand why we were asked to be here, though. We don’t really buy much porcelain.”
Lily said, “Ruth Ann, speak for yourself. I told the gentleman who owns it that I might want a crack at it. You never know. It might go for a real bargain.”
“But Lily,” Ruth Ann said, looking closer at the tea set, “I don’t see a single lily of the valley on it.”
“Are you sure?” She leaned forward. “Isn’t the young lady in the little boat holding a bouquet?” She didn’t wait for a response before adding, “Well, we rushed around to get here early. We might as well stay.”
“I suppose you’re right.” Asia checked her watch, then looked at Jeff. “What do you say we get on with it and boil this lobster?”
“You’re right, Asia. Let’s turn up the heat.”