Free Steeped in Evil (A Tea Shop Mystery) by Laura Childs

snapped a leash onto his collar, gave a final glance back at her yard, and headed off down the narrow back alley.
    The back alleys were one of the things Theodosia dearly cherished about her hometown of Charleston. They were cool, quiet, hidden places—narrow little byways that were often only wide enough for one or two people. Some of the best known were Philadelphia Alley, Unity Alley, Lodge Alley, and Longitude Lane. If you were a tourist, you might be lucky to stumble upon one or two. But only if you took a chance and did a little creative exploration.
    Nestled between Church Street and State Street was Philadelphia Alley, one of Theodosia’s favorites. Originally named Cow Alley probably because it was a holding pen for livestock, the narrow, walled lane soon picked up the name Duelers Alley. With its high walls and limited access at either end, it became the perfect spot for conflicts to be resolved and chivalry and honor to prevail. Although Theodosia didn’t think there was much honor in bleeding to death on bumpy cobblestones just so you could save face or prove your point.
    Still, it was a cozy little romp and very fun. Flora and fauna cascaded down the brick walls that closed in on either side of them, and there was even a cutout in the wall that led straight to the graveyard at St. Philip’s Church!
    Fog was beginning to steal in from the churning Atlantic, so the air in the historic district, always highly atmospheric to begin with, was starting to develop a slight haze. The air felt damp and close, and lampposts suddenly appeared a little fuzzy, as if being photographed through a soft focus lens.
    A quick jog back across Church Street and Theodosia and her fine companion were suddenly keeping pace down Stoll’s Alley. This narrow crevice of an alley, with its brick pathway and earthy scents, was one of her favorites. It was a teleporter to an earlier, magical time and featured a reward at the end of it—a lovely courtyard filled with moss and ferns.
    Theodosia smiled to herself. The alleys weren’t quite as majestic as running through White Point Gardens with the Atlantic surging in to stir up the ions. But if you were looking for peace and quiet, and didn’t mind glancing over your shoulder because you often had the niggling sense there might be a ghost or apparition following in your footsteps, then exploring back alleys was clearly the way to go!
    As she jogged back down her block in full-on dusk, her little cottage finally came into sight. And what a cottage it was. The exterior was adorable and semiquirky, a classic Tudor-style cottage that was asymmetrical in design with rough cedar tiles that replicated a thatched roof. The front of the cottage featured arched doors, cross gables, and a small turret. Lush tendrils of ivy curled their way up the walls. A couple of years ago, when she signed the papers to buy it, she even found out it had a name—Hazelhurst.
    As focused as she was on getting home, Theodosia was still surprised when she noticed lights blazing in the enormous house that sat next door to hers. It had belonged to Dougan Granville, Delaine’s onetime fiancé who had been murdered a few months ago.
    Was someone showing the house to a prospective buyer? Was someone about to buy it? Or had they bought it already?
    Theodosia slowed her stride as three figures meandered down the mansion’s front walk. She heard lively chatter and a peal of laughter ring out. And suddenly realized that she recognized one of those voices. It belonged to Maggie Twining, the woman who’d served as her realtor not so long ago. Theodosia waited with Earl Grey on the sidewalk, watching as Maggie bade good night to her clients. Then she stepped forward to greet her.
    Maggie was thrilled by their impromptu meeting.
    “Theodosia!” she cried. “How fun to see you again!” She shifted her leather briefcase and extended a hand for Earl Grey to sniff. “And your lovely dog, too.” Maggie had a friendly, open face