Chapter Four
Caprice wrapped her arm around Nikki and felt her sister tremble. A patrol car had arrived, and so had the paramedics.
“What happened in there?” Nikki asked Caprice, not for the first time.
“I don’t know, Nik,” Caprice answered honestly. She tried to remember the details she’d absorbed by standing in the room for a few minutes.
A Tiffany-style lampshade sat on a side table with the base nowhere in sight. A tall Tiffany-style floor lamp had obviously been knocked over and lay on the carpet near the sofa. Miraculously it hadn’t broken. Whether they were true Tiffany lamps only an expert could determine. But if they were . . . Caprice remembered some auction figures on Tiffany lamps from her design courses. Besides the possible worth of the lamps, she had noticed another thing. There had been a slip of paper sticking out from the base of the floor lamp. She knew better than to handle anything that could be considered evidence, or else she would have examined it. As it was, that piece of paper was part of the crime scene and she knew she shouldn’t touch it.
There had been one other important detail. The outside back door in the kitchen had stood open. She wished she could record all of this on her electronic tablet, but she’d left that at home. If she concentrated on those details, maybe she could forget about seeing Drew’s body. Maybe she could forget about the blood.
Yet she knew that might be impossible, because she’d witnessed crime scenes before.
“When I called Vince, he said he’d be here right away,” Nikki murmured.
Caprice patted her back. “That was only a few minutes ago. Grant said the same thing.” Caprice knew what was going to happen next, and they both would want a lawyer by their sides.
Ten minutes later, she was proven right. Detectives Carstead and Jones drove up in the same sedan, an unmarked vehicle.
“The patrol officer should have separated you,” Jones snapped as he passed them and nodded to one of the officers to do just that.
Caprice watched Carstead and Jones as they pulled on booties, filled in the police log, and went inside. Five minutes later, they were back out.
Caprice was at the curb with a patrol officer at one end of the property, and Nikki was with another officer at the other end . . . outside the crime scene tape.
Detective Carstead approached Caprice, and Jones went toward Nikki. Caprice wished it was the other way around. Nikki was shaky, and Caprice didn’t want her to say something to the hard-core detective that could be misinterpreted.
Carstead just arched his brow at Caprice as if asking why she was at another crime scene. But he didn’t vocalize the question, at least not that one. Rather he inquired, “Are you ready to tell me what you saw?”
“I’ll tell you whatever I can,” she assured him.
“Did you touch anything inside?”
“No. Just the door when I went in after Nikki.”
“So she went in first?”
“She did.”
Just then a gray SUV pulled up in back of the patrol car and parked. Caprice told the detective, “I called Grant Weatherford.”
Again Carstead arched a brow. “Well, of course you did. You’re getting to be an expert at this, aren’t you?”
She didn’t answer. She knew better than to say too much. That had been drummed into her by her brother and Grant time and time again. Being helpful was one thing. Being too chatty was another.
Grant made a beeline for Caprice, took her hand, and squeezed it.
Carstead gave Grant a nod, noticing. “Can we go on?” he asked Caprice.
“Sure. Ask away.”
“How did you know Drew Pierson?”
“He was a chef and worked with Nikki for a while.”
Carstead made notes in his pocket-sized spiral-bound book. “For a while? Were they working together now?”
“No.”
“Just no? Was there a reason?”
Caprice thought carefully about what she wanted to say, and then decided to give him a little bit of information. After all, Nikki did have a connection to Drew.
“For a while Nikki thought she and Drew might go into a partnership with her catering business. But then Drew decided to go out on his own, and Nikki decided she might want to partner with someone else.”
The detective made notes. “Were you friends with Pierson?”
“No.”
He eyed her carefully. “When did you last see him?”
“I saw him this afternoon.”
The detective said, “I thought you said you weren’t friends.”
“We aren’t . . . weren’t. There was a wedding expo in Kismet, and he had a booth. So did Nikki.”
“And why did you come here tonight?”
“I came along with Nikki to discuss business.”
“Your sister’s business?”
“Yes.”
“And you just came along for support?”
This detective seemed to know her a little too well, but maybe that was because he’d done background checks on her, including looking into her family. After all, Bella and Joe had been involved in a murder investigation. So had Caprice’s friend Roz. And then there had been Ace’s situation . . .
“I did come along to support her.”
Grant gave her arm a little squeeze, maybe because he didn’t want her to say more.
Carstead saw the signal and sighed. “You can go for now, but you’re going to have to come down to the station tomorrow for more questions and to give your statement.”
Caprice noticed that Vince had arrived and was standing beside Nikki. She was glad he was there . . . glad he could protect her.
“I want to stay and wait until Detective Jones is finished questioning Nikki.”
“I know if I tell you you can’t, you’re just going to give me an argument, and then your lawyer friend here is going to weigh in on it too. As long as you stay on the public side of the tape, you can wait.”
As Carstead moved away, a snazzy red sedan zoomed down the street, pulled up at the driveway, and parked right across it.
Vince and Nikki came over to join Caprice and Grant.
“How did it go?” Vince asked Caprice.
“All right. I have to go down to the station tomorrow and give my statement.”
“So does Nikki. But I have a feeling Jones is going to put the screws to her. He’s got a chip on his shoulder that I’d like to knock off. But I know better.”
Caprice could see that Grant was ready to take her home and get her away from yet another crime scene when two women emerged from the sporty red sedan and Detectives Carstead and Jones immediately went to them.
“The woman with the cane is Drew’s grandmother,” Nikki told Caprice. “He had her photo on his phone. I saw it when she called him. I’ve seen her at church too.”
“And I know Kiki Hasselhoff, the woman with her,” Caprice said. “I often stop in at her bookstore for the latest crime novel.” She also knew Kiki from Chamber of Commerce meetings.
Caprice could see Rowena Pierson was in tears now. She’d taken a handkerchief from her purse and was dabbing her eyes. Kiki had her arm around her friend’s shoulders.
“Detective Jones isn’t going to let them inside,” Grant said.
“Maybe we should stay until after the detectives talk to them,” Nikki offered. “Drew’s grandmother might need something.”
“But you shouldn’t be the person who offers to give it,” Vince warned her.
“Don’t be silly, Vince,” Nikki scolded. “Nana and Mom know Mrs. Pierson from church. Both would want us to help her if we can. Imagine how devastated she is.”
They all thought about that.
“Wait until Carstead and Jones are finished talking to them,” Grant counseled. “If Drew’s grandmother and her friend don’t leave, you can approach them then.”
Fifteen minutes later, Rowena Pierson looked wrung out and shaky as Detectives Carstead and Jones went inside the house to the crime scene once more.
Nikki nudged Caprice. “Let’s talk to her.”
Vince advised, “Maybe you shouldn’t, Nikki. Just let Caprice go.”
Nikki looked defiant. “I didn’t do anything wrong. I’m going to tell this woman that I’m sorry her grandson is dead. If the police don’t like it, they can arrest me for being compassionate.”
With that, she started toward the two women. Caprice just gave her brother an I’ll-watch-over-her-look and followed her.
Nikki approached Kiki and Rowena slowly. Caprice could see that Kiki recognized them both.
When they stopped beside the two women, Kiki said to Caprice, “You must be the person who found Drew.”
“My sister did,” Caprice responded.
Nikki introduced herself to Rowena. “Mrs. Pierson, I’m Nikki De Luca. Drew and I worked together at one time. I’m so sorry for what’s happened here.”
“You found him?” Rowena asked. “They won’t let me see him. That detective asked if I had a photo, and I did in my wallet. But they won’t let me go in.”
Caprice gently touched the older woman’s arm. “You don’t want to see Drew like that. You don’t want to remember him that way.”
“He was like a son to me.” Tears dripped from Rowena’s eyes. “I raised both Drew and his sister, Jeanie, you know.” Rowena went on, “Drew and Jeanie came to me when they were just little ones after their parents died in a small plane crash. Drew was ten and Jeanie was eight. Oh my gosh—Jeanie. I need to call her.”
Kiki stayed Rowena’s hand as the woman rummaged in her purse. “Give yourself a little time to absorb what’s happened. The detective said he’d notify Jeanie.”
“Did he?” Rowena asked, looking a little lost. “I don’t remember that.”
Caprice knew that devastating news was enough of a shock to make a person forget her name. She said, “We don’t want to keep you. We just wanted to give you our condolences. Do you have someplace you can stay? I imagine the forensics unit will have the house tied up at least through tomorrow.”
After studying Caprice, Kiki remembered, “You’ve been through this before.” Apparently Kiki remembered the articles about Caprice in the Kismet Crier when a reporter had interviewed her in conjunction with murders she’d solved.
“A few times,” Caprice responded.
“Rowena’s going to stay with me,” Kiki revealed. “For as long as she needs to.” She shook her head.
“I just can’t believe that two hours ago we were sitting at the American Music Theater enjoying a production.”
Rowena said, “I can’t see too well. I have to have that cataract surgery I’ve been putting off. But I can hear just fine. The music was lovely. I expected to come home and hear how Drew’s day had gone—”
Kiki opened the passenger side of the vehicle. “The detective said we can go. Let me take you to my place. Then you can call Jeanie and maybe she’ll come over for a while.”
After Caprice and Nikki gave their condolences again and said their good-byes, they returned to Grant’s SUV. There was more hubbub around the house than before because the crime scene unit had arrived. Now the evidence gathering would begin in earnest.
Vince was still standing at Grant’s vehicle too. He asked, “How is she?”
“She’s devastated,” Caprice answered. “It seems she was more like a mom to Drew than a grandmother.”
Vince nodded toward the house. “Carstead was on the porch watching you two. If your conversation had gone on too long, he might have broken it up. As it was, I think he realized you were just giving your condolences. I want to talk to you and Nikki about what you saw and heard. Let’s go back to your place,” he said to Caprice.
“Since your car and Nikki’s will be impounded, why don’t you go with Vince and Nikki,” Grant suggested. “I’ll pick up Patches and meet you back at your house.”
They heard the front door of Rowena’s house open and shut as techs went inside. Carstead was still on the front porch watching them.
“I think he likes you,” Grant muttered to Caprice.
She was totally surprised by that remark. “Why do you think that?”
“I’ve seen him question witnesses before. He’s always respectful, not like Jones who can be sharp. But Brett was almost kind with you.”
“We’ve crossed paths several times before. He knows I wouldn’t kill anyone.”
“Maybe,” Grant said thoughtfully.
In spite of the situation, Caprice’s heart turned just a little bit lighter. She asked, “Do you mind if Detective Carstead likes me?”
Grant took a long moment to answer, and then he said, “Yeah, I mind.”
Caprice liked the idea that Grant could be just a little bit jealous. But she didn’t want him to worry that she had eyes for another man. So she rose on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll see you and Patches in a little while. I’ll make lemonade.”
After Grant gave her a hug, she joined Nikki and Vince. The four of them were going to have a lot to talk about.
* * *
By the time Grant and Patches arrived at Caprice’s house, she had served Nikki and Vince tall glasses of lemonade and had set some out for herself and Grant. With golden eyes, Mirabelle watched them from her perch on the lowest shelf of the cat tree. Sophia was stretched out on the fireplace hearth, just looking pretty. Lady ran to the door to greet Patches when Grant came in. It wasn’t long until they were all sitting around the coffee table, sipping lemonade, and eating slices of chocolate-coffee loaf.
Vince gobbled up half a slice and then shook his head. “I don’t know how you always get involved.”
“I’m not involved,” Caprice protested. “Nikki is. She’s the one who knew Drew.”
“Not really,” her sister disagreed with a little sigh. “I mean, I knew his work history. I knew where he’d studied and where he’d cooked before coming back home. But I never knew his grandmother raised him. I thought he just lived with her to help out. In fact, that was one of the things I admired about him.”
“Did he live there to help out?” Grant asked. “Or had he moved in with his grandmother again because his finances were on the downturn? That wouldn’t be unusual if he lost a job one place and came back here to find another.”
“I wonder if he was going to stay there now that he was making it big,” Vince offered.
“Selling the barbecue sauce might have gotten him a nice nest egg and a licensing royalty,” Grant interjected. “But he’d have to sustain his business and his reputation.” He studied Caprice. “Are you going to poke around in this?”
“Is Nikki the number one suspect?” she asked both her brother and Grant.
Vince shrugged. “The detectives always look at anyone who found the body. I’m not as concerned about that as about the fact that she told them she and Drew worked together. They’re going to be looking at her closely because of her association with Drew, and because they parted ways.”
“After that fight we had at the open house, they could also think I have a motive.” Nikki sounded worried, and Caprice didn’t blame her. “Drew as much as threatened me, and several people overheard him.”
“It all depends on what the York County Forensics Team finds,” Vince reminded them. “Nikki, tell me exactly what you saw when you went inside.”
“I don’t remember a thing,” Nikki admitted. “I saw the blood and everything in my mind went blank.”
Vince turned to Caprice. “What do you remember?”
Unfortunately, Caprice had done this type of exercise before and hated doing it. But because she hadn’t remembered the evidence correctly on one of the murder scenes, she’d almost missed something important. This time she wouldn’t let that happen.
She took a sip of her lemonade, then a deep breath. Closing her eyes, she attempted to relive the moments when she’d walked inside behind Nikki.
“Drew was on the floor, and my guess is from his injury and the way he had fallen, he’d been hit from behind. There were two Tiffany-style lamps. Well, not exactly two. Just the shade for one was sitting on the library table beside the sofa. The base was missing. Based on the shade size, it wasn’t a huge lamp, so someone could have carried that base out with them if they’d used it to hit Drew. There wasn’t anything else lying around him that could have been the weapon. A floor lamp was lying on the floor. There seemed to be a piece of paper sticking out from its base.”
“They aren’t hollow, are they?” Vince asked.
“It would be easy to stick something up in there around the cord. If those are true Tiffany lamps, they were designed from the 1890s to the 1930s and they could be worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. A Magnolia lamp that was auctioned in the eighties sold for more than five hundred thousand.”
Absorbing what Caprice had said, Grant decided, “I don’t think the motive was robbery, or the lamps would have been gone.”
Vince suggested, “Most people might not realize what they’re worth . . . or think they’re reproductions.”
“Or,” Nikki added, “maybe the killer knows their worth and was interrupted and will be back.”
“A murder like this in the victim’s home means Drew knew whoever killed him,” Grant deduced. “He let that person in. If he knew them, it had to be personal.”
“Look how he treated Nikki,” Caprice pointed out. “If he was that bitter about her, he could be bitter about lots of other people. We don’t know anything about his friends. Do you know anything about his sister?” she asked Nikki.
“No, he never talked about her. Nana might know since she’s acquainted with Rowena.” Nikki took out her phone, jumped up from the sofa, and went into the kitchen.
“I’ve never seen her this fidgety,” Vince said. “She’s really shaken up.”
“Finding a dead body will do that,” Grant said wryly. “You two aren’t going to stay out of this, are you?”
Caprice gave him a weak smile. “Are we going to have an argument about it?”
“There wouldn’t be anything to argue about if you and Nikki just sit back and let the police do their job.”
“How can we just sit back when Nikki could be a suspect?”
Grant held up both hands in surrender. “I give up. No argument. Just consider each step you take carefully, because Detective Jones will be watching you.”
Grant’s absolutely serious warning shook her this time, a way it hadn’t in the past. Maybe because he was right. Detective Jones did not like her interference. Would he take that out on Nikki?
Vince leaned over to Caprice and asked in a low voice, “Did Nikki and Pierson really go at it at the open house, enough that more than a few people would notice?”
“They raised their voices,” Caprice acknowledged. “Truth be told, I think Drew was angrier than Nikki. She really tried to restrain herself. But then she let loose with resonating barbs too. I’d say five to ten guests were around, along with Nikki’s servers, so there were a lot of witnesses, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“And each one will have a different take on the argument,” Vince said.
He was probably right. Except one fact was obvious. Nikki and Drew were competing for business. That could be motive for murder. Caprice hated to admit it, but it was true. It all boiled down to the detectives’ perspective on the evidence. If they decided Nikki was their main suspect, they’d go after her.
Grant tapped Caprice’s hand. “Let’s not worry before we have to.”
She liked the way he used that word “we.”
Nikki returned to the living room looking somber.
“What did you find out? Does Nana know anything?” Caprice asked before the others could.
“First of all, she told me to tell you to be careful.”
“She knows I will be.”
Both Grant and Vince arched their brows.
Caprice insisted, “I try to be.” She swiveled her attention back to her sister. “So what did Nana say?”
“She admitted she doesn’t know Rowena Pierson well. But she does know that Rowena’s arthritis over the past few years has gotten worse. She doesn’t climb steps if she can help it, and Drew helped her arrange her bedroom on the first floor in what was once a study.”
Caprice hadn’t seen much of the house, just the living room and a glance into the kitchen. And that open back door.
Nikki continued, “Nana said Rowena hasn’t talked about Drew and Jeanie much, but here’s something interesting. Jeanie was married when she was nineteen but divorced six months later. Her married name is Jeanie Boswell and she owns Posies.”
“The flower shop?” Grant asked.
“She’s the ‘Jeanie’ from Posies?” Caprice asked. “I know her. I’ve dealt with her now and then to get flowers for stagings.”
“Uh-oh. You know her. That sounds like trouble. What are you thinking?” Grant asked, sounding worried.
“I don’t actually know her. But I’ve spoken with her on the phone and purchased flowers from her. Because you and Vince and Nana want me to be careful, I’m not going to do anything, at least not yet. Nikki and I will see how it goes tomorrow morning when we give our statements.”
“I’ll be there with you,” Grant assured Caprice, just as Vince said the same thing to Nikki.
“We really don’t need both of you, do we?” Nikki asked.
“You do,” Grant answered firmly. “They’re going to separate you. They’ll want to make sure every detail of your stories lines up. They’ll ask you the same questions over and over again. I’ll be with Caprice, and Vince will be with you. We’re going to make sure you stay calm and focused and don’t blow your tops, even if they try to push your buttons. You can’t just be innocent, you have to look innocent and act innocent.”
“It’s not an act,” Caprice protested.
“I know it’s not,” Grant maintained. “But I also know that both you and Nikki have Italian tempers when riled. I don’t want them popping out at the detectives. Just consider Vince and me your reasonable buddies to keep you on an even keel.”
Gazing up at Grant, Caprice knew she wanted more than buddyship with him, but she also knew what he meant.
Tomorrow had to go smoothly for her sake, but especially for Nikki’s sake. A public argument with threats and a rivalry were two good reasons to find evidence to pin this murder on her sister.