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who?” said Theodosia.
    One of Drayton’s brows lifted into an arch. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”
    â€¢ • •
    Just as Theodosia was serving plates of cupcakes and making a final round with a teapot filled with Keemun, Max came sauntering in. He stood by the front door, waiting patiently until she noticed him.
    â€œHey,” she said, swinging by him. “Are you here for a late lunch?”
    â€œI am if you’ve got any food left.”
    â€œI think we could scrape something up.” Theodosia pointed to a small table wedged next to a highboy stacked with colorful tea tins. “You’re lucky we even have one table left,” she told him somewhat breathlessly. She was juggling desserts, trying to deliver checks to the guests who were finished, and still hadn’t had a chance to run back to her office and call Tidwell. “I hope you don’t mind perching at that smaller table?”
    â€œNot a problem.” Max gave her a sly wink. “Makes it easier to keep an eye on you.”
    She led him to the table, hastily laid out silverware, and poured him a glass of ice water. “So how are things at the museum today?”
    â€œThey’re in turmoil, just as you might expect. Elliot Kern, our director, is pretty much yanking his hair out. What’s left of it anyway.”
    â€œHave you heard anything specific? I mean . . . the police . . . Tidwell . . . have they been nosing around?”
    â€œI was stuck in my office all morning, taking calls and fending off our local press, so I really couldn’t say.”
    â€œTake a wild guess.”
    â€œWell, there was constant chatter and lots of urgent footsteps shuffling up and down the hallway. So, yes, the investigators were there all right. Probably wearing their little Sherlock Holmes caps while they tried to sniff out clues.”
    â€œI picked up a couple of interesting bits of information this morning,” said Theodosia.
    Max raised his eyebrows. “Concerning . . . ?”
    Theodosia waved a hand. “They’re just rumors really.”
    â€œTell me anyway.”
    Theodosia quickly filled him in on the Charlotte-Edgar-Cecily love triangle.
    Max tapped a finger against his water glass. “That’s fairly weird. So what are you really saying?”
    â€œJust that, I don’t know . . .” She was a little nervous about sharing the gossip now. “That it was a strange situation, with no love lost between any of them?”
    Max’s eyes went suddenly huge. “Oh, jeez, Theo. But I do get your inference. You’re saying that either of those two women could be a prime suspect in Webster’s murder!”
    â€œWell, that would be the general idea, yes.”
    â€œHoly crap,” said Max. “Now there’s a can of worms.” He paused, studying Theodosia carefully as if she were a science project. “So . . . do you think you’re going to kick that can wide open?”
    â€œI’m planning to call Detective Tidwell, yes.”
    Max gazed at her. “To spill the beans about Charlotte and Cecily. Huh. You’re really getting involved in this, aren’t you?”
    Theodosia lifted a shoulder. “I picked up some critical information that the police should probably know about.”
    Max made a sound that was somewhere between a sigh of resignation and a protest. “Okay, I’m sure you’re going to relay all of this information to Tidwell. But that doesn’t mean there’s going to be any quid pro quo involved. I seriously doubt that he’s going to open up to you about what
he’s
already discovered.”
    â€œProbably not,” said Theodosia. “But with this kind of information, I can at least prime the pump.”
    â€¢ • •
    Theodosia took advantage of a lull in business a few minutes later. She whipped into her