Chapter Fourteen
For Caprice, dressing on Tuesday evening as a server—which meant conservatively—was almost painful. She smoothed down her white apron tied over black slacks and a white blouse. The wedding reception was being held in the social hall adjacent to the Kismet United Methodist Church. Although Nikki had been nervous about catering this event, she needed the income, and she also needed the recommendations if the reception went well.
Bella nudged Caprice and nodded toward the wedding cake. It was Nikki’s new specialty—a square carrot cake with two connected crystal hearts perched on top. Silver swirls ran down the sides. It was quite attractive.
“Would you want that at your wedding?”
Bella was just making conversation, helping the time go faster while they served the meal. But Caprice didn’t want to talk about weddings. Still she answered cheerily, “I love Nikki’s carrot cake.”
Bella gave her a long look. “Are you and Grant still on the outs?”
Caprice shrugged. “I haven’t heard from him.”
“He stopped by the swings with Patches at the Raspberry Festival to say hello. His ex didn’t look too pleased,” Bella said with a wink.
Caprice was silent.
“I know from my counseling sessions with Joe, you shouldn’t let things fester,” Bella added more seriously.
“Nothing’s festering. He has to make a decision.”
“Or, you have to stand by him,” Bella warned sagely.
Caprice knew Bella had learned a lot about standing by Joe when she and her husband had been going through their problems. Was she looking at this all wrong? Should she just be there for Grant?
It was time for the couple to cut the beautiful cake. The billowing wedding gown sparkled under the lights as the groom took the bride’s hand and they strolled toward the cake stand together. Nikki was waiting for them with an engraved cake knife that the bride had provided. As soon as the bride and groom cut those first slices, Bella and Caprice would swoop in with trays and dishes. Nikki would push the cake into the kitchen and Serena would quickly slice pieces for the guests.
Trudi placed her hand on top of her groom’s on the knife. They were so young, Caprice thought, probably in their midtwenties. They looked as if they expected their lives to turn out just the way they wanted them to. Maybe they would.
Nikki was there with a silver-trimmed white plate to collect the slice the couple cut. Then she held it up for each of them to take a piece to feed each other. Trudi fed her groom first, and he had icing all over his mouth. He fed her a bit more daintily. Everyone applauded when they were finished.
Nikki was about to wheel the cake toward Bella and Caprice when one of the guests approached her. The woman was older than Caprice, but it was hard to tell how old with her bleached blond hair and her polished red fingernails. She wore loads of makeup too, and she caught Caprice’s attention because of it. Caprice didn’t wear much makeup, and when she saw someone who did, Caprice took notice and wondered what she was trying to prove . . . or what she was trying to hide. In this case, she was probably trying to hide wrinkles.
The woman pointed to Nikki’s wedding cake. “I saw you at the wedding expo when I was there with Trudi. She was supposed to be using Drew Pierson. They would have had a chocolate walnut groom’s cake then.”
“I’m sorry if you would have preferred that,” Nikki said blandly, and Caprice could tell she didn’t intend to give in to an argument with this woman.
“Maybe you shouldn’t have taken over this wedding reception. Maybe you should have let someone else handle it.”
Caprice could tell that Nikki just wanted to go hide somewhere, but her sister was made of sterner stuff than that. “Drew and I were in competition for business. I saw no reason to turn down this job when Trudi couldn’t find anyone else. She would have had to cancel the reception. Is that what you would have wanted her to do?”
The woman who had accosted Nikki took a step back. “She could have had a deli cater it. There were alternatives.”
“Not according to Trudi. Maybe you should ask her. Maybe you should ask her why she chose me.”
Just then, Trudi came over to Nikki and said, “Everyone’s raving about the food. You’ve done a marvelous job here tonight.” She looked at the guest who was a relative or a friend. “Delia, are you telling Nikki how pretty her cake is?”
“No,” the woman snapped. “Pretty doesn’t matter if she had a motive for murder.”
Instead of being embarrassed, Trudi patted the woman’s arm. “Delia, I think you’ve been reading too many mystery novels. Nikki’s trying to do her job just like everyone else. That chocolate walnut groom’s cake attracted us to Drew Pierson’s menu, but Nikki’s meal tonight was flawless, and we should have just gone with her in the first place. Please try her carrot cake and see how good it is. That’s all that matters.”
Caprice had been about to step in, but Trudi had done it for her, and very adroitly too.
Delia took a last look at Nikki and huffed away.
Her bridal gown rustling from here to next year, Trudi pushed her veil over her shoulder and gave Nikki a huge hug. She said, “My husband’s the one who wanted to go with Drew in the first place. I would have chosen you. You’ve done a fabulous job tonight. So don’t let what Delia said bother you one little bit. No one else is thinking it.”
Bella leaned close to Caprice and nodded to some of the other guests who were looking their way. “That’s a nice sentiment, and I’m sure Trudi means it. But I have a feeling there’s more than one person in this room thinking that Nikki might have done it.”
Caprice was absolutely sure that Bella was right.
* * *
“You need to get yourself a police scanner.”
Caprice had been in the middle of working up figures for a proposal for a house staging when she’d answered Isaac Hobbs’s call Wednesday evening.
“Why should I get a police scanner when you have one and Lloyd Butterworth at the Koffee Klatch has one. I usually hear the news before it makes it down the street.”
Isaac gave a grunt. “I just have one for entertainment value when I don’t have any customers in the shop. Lloyd Butterworth milks his for all it’s worth and thinks it brings him business.”
“He could be right about that. His coffee’s darn good too.”
“And mine isn’t?”
Isaac let his pot of coffee sit all day. Sometimes when she went to visit in the afternoon, it tasted as if it had been burnt to a crisp, and that was hard to do with coffee. “Your coffee provides great conversation.” She went back to their original subject. “Why do I need a scanner?”
“Because Rowena Pierson’s house was burglarized last night.”
“What?”
“You heard me. This is small-town Kismet. You don’t just go by codes. I listen to chatter too. The police were called to that address for an attempted break-in. That’s basically all I know, except . . . I called a friend of a friend who knows one of the officers. She said they don’t think anything was taken.”
“Then why the break-in?” Caprice mused.
“I don’t know. I did find the paperwork on her lamps. The table lamp is worth around $200,000 and the floor lamp around $400,000. But those prices swing around at auctions. One auction house I know of deals mainly with Tiffany lamps. They have a list of private collectors always on the lookout. Then, of course, there is Christie’s.”
The most high-end auction house, Caprice thought.
Isaac added, “There are lots of forgeries. Provenance often tells the tale. Rowena’s lamps have provenance dating back to 1929. Are you going to pay Rowena a visit and nose around?”
“I can’t very well do that tonight. I have work with deadlines. Besides, a visit this soon would be unseemly.”
“Like you were nosing around,” he agreed.
“I have to be careful, Isaac. Detective Jones’s eyes are on me.”
“Is Rowena Pierson’s place within walking distance?”
“It could be if I wanted the exercise. Why?”
“So take Lady for a walk tomorrow and Jones won’t be the wiser.”
Not only her work van but her yellow Camaro was recognizable, and Isaac might have a valid point. “I’ll think about it.”
“If you snooze, you lose.”
She laughed. “I get the idea, Isaac. If you hear anything else, will you let me know?”
“Sure will. And if you need my services, you know where to find me.”
Isaac and the paperwork at his shop had helped her out before. “You’re a good friend, Isaac.”
“And you’re a great customer.”
She knew Isaac tried to be hard-boiled on the outside, but he was a softie on the inside. After all, he’d attended her birthday party in April and brought her the cutest little vintage cat creamer.
“I’ll take your advice to heart,” she told him.
“And you’ll let me know what happened with the break-in?”
Caprice had to smile. “I promise I’ll let you know. Thanks for the tip.”
“Anytime.”
As she ended the call with Isaac, Caprice realized that he was a good friend, not just a contact. She’d have to invite him over for dinner sometime so they could really chat, or maybe invite him to one of the De Luca family dinners. He’d get a kick out of that.
* * *
She was thinking about the next family dinner, what she’d make, whether Grant would be there, as she walked Lady the following morning and headed for Rowena’s. Midmorning in early July, heat was already setting in. She’d chosen to wear fifties-style turquoise pedal pushers and a white blouse with turquoise pinstripes. Her sneakers were comfortable for walking.
Lady didn’t seem in any hurry as she snuffled the grass along the sidewalk and then looked up at Caprice inquiringly. Does this walk have a destination?
“Yes, it does,” Caprice told her. “I don’t know if Rowena likes dogs, though, so we might be staying outside on the porch.
Lady tilted her head as if considering that.
Caprice rubbed her, and Lady heeled perfectly for the rest of the walk. She responded to praise so well, and treats worked too, though Caprice used them less now than she used to. At ten months old, Lady was growing into her beautiful self. Her golden color was rich and deep, and the cream along her ears reminded Caprice of the golden highlights in Nikki’s hair. Nikki probably wouldn’t like being compared to Lady.
As Caprice reached Rowena’s block, she noticed the flowers dotting the yards—purple and white petunias, red roses in full glory, marigolds a neighbor had planted along a border. Caprice wondered if Rowena would even be staying at her house or if she would be staying with Kiki again because of the break-in.
The next minute, her question was answered. A white van had parked at the curb outside of Rowena’s house. Two men hurried down the steps and climbed into the vehicle, slamming the doors. As Caprice and Lady approached, she heard the van start up, then it pulled away from the curb and sped down the street.
Maybe repairs had been necessary if someone had broken in. Had Rowena been here when it happened?
She was hoping she’d soon have her questions answered.
Lady ran up the steps beside Caprice. Caprice put her finger to the doorbell, but before she could even press it, Rowena was at the door.
“Hi, Caprice, what brings you here?”
Caprice nodded to Lady. “I was taking her for a walk and just headed in your direction.”
“Oh my. I missed her at first.”
“I understand if you don’t want a dog inside. I just came to check on you and see how you’re doing.”
“I’ve never had a dog, but I don’t mind yours coming in as long as she doesn’t run around and knock everything over.”
“She’s usually pretty well behaved,” Caprice assured Rowena. “If she gets rambunctious I’ll bring her back outside again. I brought one of her toys that she can chew on while we’re talking.”
“That sounds good.”
“Was that a repair truck I saw leaving?”
Rowena waited until Caprice and Lady were inside before she answered. “Not exactly a repair truck. One of those was here yesterday to fix my basement window. Someone broke in night before last.”
“Were you here?”
“Yes, I was here. I was all settled in my bedroom when I heard a noise. I didn’t know what it was. Apparently it was someone breaking in that basement window. They made it up to the living room, but I had my four-pronged cane and I went after whoever it was. The person wore a hoodie, so I couldn’t tell if the intruder was male or female. I wish my sight was as good as it once was. Anyway, I chased whoever it was back down the basement and shut the door and put a chair in front of it. Then I called the police.”
“I can’t believe you did that! You’re fortunate the burglar ran.”
“I am, aren’t I? That’s what the police said too. They think whoever it was wanted to steal something. Maybe the Tiffany lamps. But I don’t know. I did see that the burglar had something on his hands. They looked white. The police think those were latex gloves. From what I could tell, nothing was taken. I guess I surprised him. Maybe he expected me to still be at Kiki’s.”
That was a reasonable supposition.
“So the police didn’t find any evidence of who was here?”
“Only the broken glass from the basement window. The men you saw leaving were installing my burglar alarm system. I should have had it done a long time ago because of the Tiffany lamps if nothing else. But nobody knew their worth. Not really.”
Was that true? Were the lamps the object of the break in? Or did Rowena have something of Drew’s that the burglar might have wanted? Even more possible, what if the burglar knew about the recipes inside the light? Did he or she want those?
Rowena motioned to the sofa. “Please sit.”
Caprice undid Lady’s leash and gave her the toy she’d brought along.
“Your nana called me to talk awhile. I so appreciated that. It seems since my grandson was murdered I’m persona non grata in Kismet.”
“What do you mean?” Caprice could guess, but it seemed Rowena needed a listening ear.
“I thought I had friends in this town. I’ve lived here all my life. I raised Drew and Jeanie the best way I knew how. They went through the public school system, and I made friends with other parents even though they were younger than I was. Granted, since I haven’t been able to get out and about as much, I’ve let a lot of friendships slide. When you can’t go and do, people forget you’re around. All except for Kiki. She’s been a true friend. The others—they’re all keeping their distance. It’s as if I have the plague.”
Caprice didn’t know if she could help Rowena, but she could try. “I don’t know if I can find out who killed Drew, but I might be able to find some tidbits of information that could help the police. What I want you to know is that the general public does look on murder as if it’s something that’s catching. It’s not fair, but they don’t want to be tainted by it. They don’t want to think that they could bring something like that on themselves. They want to believe they’re different. They’re not, of course. Violence can touch anyone.”
“I just feel . . . so alone now.”
Caprice knew Rowena was missing Drew desperately, and she was hurt by her friends ignoring her and putting her in a “do not touch” category.
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Just your visits help. You don’t know how much they mean to me. Your grandmother said she’d visit too. She didn’t want to barge in too soon, but I don’t think there is a too soon with this. I’m never going to get over Drew being taken from me. All I can do is learn to live with it.”
“Has Jeanie been by to visit?”
“She’s at her store all the time, and she tells me she can’t get away. But from what I’ve seen of write-ups about you in the newspaper, and what your nana says, you work a lot too. Yet here you are.”
Yes, here she was. And she wasn’t going to ask any more questions. She was going to keep Rowena company and just let her talk about Drew. She had the feeling that that’s what the woman wanted to do most, and Caprice was going to let her.
* * *
That evening Caprice had just ended a video conferencing call with a client when Roz texted her.
Are you busy? Can I come over?
Caprice texted back, Sure. Anything wrong?
Roz texted back, We’ll talk.
Hmmm. That didn’t sound good. A problem with Bella working for her? A pothole in the road with Vince?
Caprice was wearing her favorite pair of lounging pants, patterned with kittens, and a bright pink T-shirt that matched part of the design. She briefly thought about changing, but this was Roz. She could be comfortable.
After almost exactly fifteen minutes, her doorbell rang. She checked the monitor next to her computer. Yep, that was Roz standing under her porch light, and she had Dylan with her.
Caprice opened the door and invited them inside. Dylan yipped, danced around the foyer, then met Lady in the dining room and took off for the kitchen.
“I made decaf coffee,” Caprice told her friend. “It’s a new flavor—butternut rum.”
“Do you have a bottle of wine? I think that’s more my speed tonight.”
She and Roz had shared wine before, but it wasn’t usually their beverage of choice. Something was wrong.
“I think I have Tears of Gettysburg that Vince brought me from Adams County Winery.” It was a sweet white wine that went down easy.
“That might be appropriate,” Roz agreed, going into the living room and plopping down on the sofa.
Roz’s golden-blond hair was always perfectly coifed. She usually wore gold earrings or jewels even when she was dressed casually. Casual for Roz was a well-tailored, probably designer top and slacks. Tonight she wore a pale green set with emeralds at her ears.
“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong before we have the wine or afterward?” Caprice asked.
“First of all, I want to tell you we have a tennis court date for tomorrow at four-thirty. We’ll be on the court next to Bronson.”
“That’s great. How did you manage it?”
“That wasn’t hard. I just dropped in at the Country Squire pro shop. I asked about court availability. I hinted that I might want to do some business with Bronson, and the manager set me up.”
“It’s good to have friends in high places,” Caprice joked.
“Or at the computer in the pro shop. When Ted was alive—” She stopped abruptly.
“Go on,” Caprice prompted. “You can talk about him, you know. You were married to him.”
“And what a sham that was,” Roz said. “He often had the manager rearrange court times or court schedules to suit him when he wanted to discuss business over a tennis game. I felt it was manipulative, and here I am doing the same thing.”
“Does it make a difference that I’m trying to catch a murderer?”
Roz’s gaze met hers. “Of course, it does. I just . . . I just regret so many things about my marriage to him.”
“Where is this coming from now?”
“Let’s open the wine.”
Caprice brought out two crystal wineglasses. Vince had given them to her as a housewarming present when she’d bought this house. They were blown glass with an etched flower pattern. She suspected he’d gone to Isaac’s shop to find them.
After Caprice sliced cheddar cheese and paired it with one of her favorite crackers, she arranged a plate for the two of them. When she returned to the living room with the dish and the open wine, Roz was staring into space. Something had her spooked.
After Caprice poured the wine, she handed Roz a glass. “Okay, spill it. What’s going on?”
“It’s your brother. It’s Ted. It’s my history with men. I’m confused about all of it, and I’m not sure what I should do or shouldn’t do.”
“That’s one very broad topic. Can we narrow it down?”
Roz drank at least half her glass of wine. “I haven’t always made the best choices when I’ve tried to have relationships in my life. I dated a few men after Mom died . . . before Ted.”
Although Roz was rich now, she’d had few advantages growing up. Her mom had raised her on her own. When Roz was a senior in high school, her mother had been diagnosed with breast cancer. The summer after graduation, out of necessity, Roz had had to put her dream of being a flight attendant on hold and waitress while she’d taken care of her mom. Before her mother died, Joan Hulsey had made Roz promise not to put her dreams on hold again. So after the funeral, Roz had trained for her job, flown everywhere, and then met Ted Winslow. Roz’s traveling and then her marriage to Ted had interfered with their friendship. They’d kept in touch, but weren’t the good friends they’d been in high school. Not until after her husband’s murder. Roz had been accused of killing Ted, and Caprice had stepped in. Now she and Roz were close again, close enough to be honest with each other and tell each other the truth.
“The men you dated before Ted. Were they really serious relationships?”
Roz thought about it. “I didn’t let them get too serious, I guess, because of my traveling. As you found out, it’s hard to have a long-distance relationship.”
“But Ted was different because he promised you the sun and the moon and the stars?” Caprice asked without judgment.
“I guess you could say that. He was rich, powerful, and confident. He swept me off my feet. He wouldn’t take no for an answer. I was blinded by what Ted could give me, by the facade he showed me. He wasn’t who he seemed.”
“You don’t really know a person until you’re with him for a while.” Caprice couldn’t help but think about her own situation with Grant. She thought she knew him. But did she really?
“What are you afraid of most?” Caprice took a few sips of her wine and thought about the answer she would give.
Roz drained her glass, set it on the coffee table, and poured herself another. “I’m afraid of getting hurt again. I’m afraid I’ll hurt Vince. Up until now, we’ve had fun together. We’ve enjoyed each other’s company. We’ve given in to a romance that just happened. If my relationship with him goes south, what happens to my friendship with you . . . with your family? If he and I really don’t belong together, what damage are we going to do to each other?”
“I’ve misplaced my crystal ball,” Caprice said. “You can’t possibly think you’re going to answer these questions, do you?”
Roz sipped more wine, then laid her head back against the sofa cushion. “Here I thought you’d have some answers.”
“Not to those questions. I can tell you no matter what happens between you and Vince, it’s not going to affect our friendship. We’ve been through too much together.” She motioned to the dish of cheese. “Eat something before all that alcohol goes to your head.”
“My head’s already spinning, so it’s not going to make much difference.”
As Roz assembled cheese on a cracker and popped it into her mouth, Caprice asked, “What brought all this on?”
Roz chewed, swallowed, and took another sip of wine.
Lady and Dylan raced into the room, awakening Sophia perched on the top shelf of her cat tree, as well as Mirabelle, who was prettily sleeping on the bottom shelf.
After the dogs ran through the room, around the circular floor plan that Caprice’s animals loved, she suspected they’d detoured into her office where a few of Lady’s toys lay strewn across the floor. Mirabelle hopped down off the cat tree, came over to the sofa, sat at Caprice’s feet, and meowed at her.
“Do you want closer company?” Caprice asked as she waited for Roz to answer her question.
Mirabelle hopped up onto the sofa and padded over onto Caprice’s lap. She settled in and purred.
Roz studied the beautiful Persian for a few moments. “Vince wants me to move in with him.”
“Wow,” Caprice said without stopping herself. “That’s huge for him.”
“And huge for me. Maybe it’s too soon. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to tell him. I don’t want to hurt him, either by rejecting his offer or by moving in and having it all not work out.”
Hard questions that had to be answered. “Do you think you’re over Ted?”
“How does anyone get over a situation like that? Some days I think I am, and some days I think I’m not.”
“Do you believe on the days you’re not that Vince will support you through it? Or will he just get impatient that you haven’t moved on?”
“He hasn’t been impatient so far.”
“But you think that just might be romance’s rosy glasses, or Vince not showing you his true self.”
Roz took another gulp of wine. “Yes.”
“There’s only one way you’re going to know Vince’s true self, and that’s if you’re around him more. Not just for wine-tasting dates and movie dates and dinners out. But first thing in the morning and last thing at night, when he hasn’t shaved and when he has, when you can’t find something in your closet to wear even though your closet’s full, when you have an argument with him and he leaves and you don’t know what’s going to happen next.”
Roz raised glistening eyes to Caprice. “I want it to work.”
“If you want it to work, then you have to give it a chance. If you shut down now, how will you ever know?”
“You think I should move in with him?”
“I think you need to talk to him about it more, and maybe compromise.”
“How do you compromise on something like that?”
After a few sips of her own wine, Caprice responded. “I don’t know how busy Vince is this time of year, or you either for that matter. But what if instead of moving in with him, the two of you went on a vacation for a week? I’m sure he could use one, and you probably could too. Just be with each other day and night. No, it’s not real life. But you’d be in each other’s company whether you’re in a good mood or a bad mood, whether you’re having fun or whether you’re not.”
Roz set down her glass and turned it in a circle as if she was nervous about all of it. “Do you think he’d go for it?”
“You won’t know until you ask. At least you wouldn’t be saying no. You’d be taking a step forward.”
Roz thought about it some more. “I don’t want to board Dylan.”
“Board? I’ll take him. You don’t have to board him. He’s used to my house, and he’s used to Lady. He’s even getting used to having two cats around. It would be fine for a week.”
Roz rubbed her hand across her temple. “All of this is making my head spin.”
“That’s probably the wine. You’re a one-glass girl like me. You’ve had two. In fact, why don’t you just stay the night?”
After her husband’s murder, Roz had stayed with Caprice for a while. They gotten along great, and right now, Caprice could use the girlfriend company too.
“I don’t want to put you out.”
Caprice brushed her concerns away. “You’re not.”
Lady and Dylan trotted into the living room and sat down beside each other near the coffee table.
“It’s better if I don’t drive,” Roz agreed. “That’s the smart thing to do. And I’ll think about your idea of a vacation. Bella might like the extra hours for a week if she can find a babysitter. It will be a matter of whether Vince can get away.”
“Ask him.”
“I’m seeing him tomorrow evening after you and I have our tennis match. I’ll broach the subject then.”
Caprice knew life could be about compromise, about taking baby steps one at a time. A jump into the ocean wasn’t necessary when you could just jump into the little pond where you were sure you could swim. However, her relationship with Grant was more complicated than Roz’s with Vince. Weren’t their situations different?
Caprice poured herself another glass of wine and thought about her tennis match with Roz next to Bronson’s court. She needed to form a strategy for her approach to him. That was much easier than thinking about Grant and his ex-wife having an intimate dinner together . . . or more.