Silence of the Lamps

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Silence of the Lamps Page 8

by Karen Rose Smith


  “I certainly understand that.”

  Ace and his daughter, Trista, had experienced problems after his divorce. But since he’d moved to Pennsylvania, they were bonding once again now that they were seeing each other more often.

  “Do you think I could get them tickets for the concert and maybe VIP passes at Hershey?”

  “After the way you helped me dodge a very big bullet, I’ll do anything for you. This favor is easy. How many tickets do you need?”

  “Four for Dulcina.”

  “How about front-row seats for your friend and your family too. Tell Vince to bring Roz and you can bring Grant. How does that sound?”

  “That sounds stupendous. Are you sure you can get that many?”

  “I’m Ace Richland. I’ll make sure the promoter puts them aside. Marsha and Trista will be there too. You can all visit me before the concert. I’ll make sure everybody has VIP passes.”

  “Ace, you’re wonderful!”

  “My mom tells me that a lot.”

  She laughed. “Believe her.”

  “I’ll have my agent overnight all of it to you so you’ll have it in plenty of time. Sound good?”

  “Sounds perfect. Do you have a show tonight?”

  “I’m headed over to the theater now for a sound check.”

  “You’ll do great.”

  Ace had been nervous about going out on tour again, afraid he still didn’t have “it.” But the first few venues had proven he certainly did.

  “From your mouth to the audience’s ears. Give Lady an ear rub for me.”

  “I will. Thank you.”

  “Front-row seats and VIP passes. Rod and his daughters will get first-class treatment,” Caprice told Dulcina after she ended the call.

  Dulcina gave Caprice another hug. “If that doesn’t work, I don’t know what will.”

  Caprice knew teens and preteens weren’t always easy to impress. But kids liked excitement. Caprice hoped that they’d have a great evening and see Dulcina in a different light. They might respect her for knowing Ace and sharing his spotlight. Or maybe they’d finally see her as a kind woman who wanted to get to know them better.

  * * *

  The following morning, Caprice needed to visit Isaac Hobbs’s shop, Older and Better, to select rustic pieces to make her Nautical Interlude theme work. The house was a bit unusual. She wouldn’t be planning a catered open house right away for this one. The owners decided to forgo that expense and just let the uniqueness of the property stand on its own.

  Older and Better was located on the outskirts of Kismet. When Caprice entered the store, she felt as if she were in a time capsule, stepping back decades earlier.

  . . . Until she heard static and chatter from a police scanner that Isaac kept under the counter. As she approached him, she saw him stoop to turn down the sound.

  Lady was always good in the shop, and she made a beeline for Isaac. A fast-food biscuit concoction layered with eggs, bacon, and cheese sat on the counter in front of him. Even though Lady had just eaten her own breakfast, the aroma drew her.

  “Uh-oh,” Isaac said. “I’m going to have to share my biscuit.”

  “Lady just had breakfast. Don’t give her more than a bite.”

  Isaac leaned down to Lady. “I’ll give you two bites.”

  “While you two are conspiring, I’m going to look around.”

  “What house this time?”

  “It’s near Reservoir Heights but not in it. It’s the house that looks as if it has a lighthouse on one side. Nautical Interlude is the theme.”

  “How far into it are you?”

  “The owners moved back to Maine last month. The husband descends from a family of lobstermen and wanted to settle back there. So I have an empty house and rental furniture to work with. I need primitive pieces.”

  She gravitated toward a highboy with distressed wood, probably walnut or chestnut. “I’d like to use this, but I don’t want to buy it.”

  “It’s probably cheaper to buy it than rent it for a couple of months or longer. Then you’ll have it.”

  “My storage sheds are full. I was thinking about renting another one.”

  “You have back-to-back clients, and you signed a contract to decorate those model homes again. Go for it. You can always empty out the storage units and drop them.”

  “You just want me to buy more stuff here and put it there.”

  Isaac laughed and wiped biscuit crumbs from the corner of his lip with a napkin. “You know me too well.” He waved at the side of the shop by a window. “Check out those lamps and shelves.”

  Caprice went to the wall in question and spotted a primitive shelf where three old hurricane lamps sat. They would be perfect.

  “Okay, sold on the shelf and the hurricane lamps.”

  As she wandered about, Isaac said, “I heard about the Pierson murder. The scanner was all abuzz that night. He was the one who tried out for Nikki’s partner, wasn’t he?”

  “Yes, he was. And Nikki and I found the body.”

  Isaac just stared at her. Finally, he shook his head. “Caprice, I don’t want to say you have a black cloud hanging over your head, but bodies seem to crop up wherever you go.”

  “Don’t exaggerate. At least this didn’t concern one of my house stagings.” That had happened four times before!

  “So are you trying to solve this one too?”

  “I am, for Nikki’s sake. She and Drew were at odds, and the police could think she has a motive . . . and no alibi.”

  “Would they be right?”

  “Nikki didn’t do it, if that’s what you mean.”

  “I know she wouldn’t do it. She’s your sister. All of you De Lucas have honesty and integrity in your blood. But can the police pin a motive on her?”

  “Yes, they can. Drew was taking clients away from her, and her business was suffering. He even threatened in public to kill her business.”

  Isaac shook his head again. “How can I help?”

  “Tiffany lamps are involved. To be specific, Rowena Pierson’s Tiffany lamps. She said you appraised them. Do you remember what they’re worth?”

  Isaac finished his biscuit, crumpled up the paper, tossed it into the fast-food bag, and stashed it in a trash can under the counter. “A friend from New York who’s been in the auction business over forty years actually came down here to appraise them. The floral lamps bring the highest prices, and that’s what Rowena has. My memory isn’t what it used to be, but I do recall the two lamps together were worth well over a half-million dollars. I probably still have the info on them. That appraisal’s probably in a box in the storage shed. I can get back to you after I go through the papers.”

  Caprice walked up to Isaac’s counter and gave him a wide smile. “I’ll take the highboy.”

  “Tit for tat?” he asked.

  “Not exactly, but we’ll be doing each other a favor.”

  “That’s what friends are for.”

  Caprice thought about friendships, hers and Roz’s, hers and her sisters’, Kiki and Rowena’s, Drew’s and Larry Penya’s and Bronson Chronister’s. Friends helped make the world go round. Who knew anyone better than longtime friends? Maybe it was time to find out if Drew’s friends knew how much those Tiffany lamps were worth. She’d think about that as she swam laps at Shape Up. Maybe a little exercise would clear her thinking and help her solve a murder.

  Chapter Seven

  If Caprice could take Lady with her, she would. But of course, she couldn’t. Not to Shape Up, Kismet’s popular gym. Caprice didn’t like exercise. Oh, she walked Lady. But as far as machines and jogging, she didn’t particularly like to sweat. That’s why swimming suited her. She knew the best time to hit the pool was when the fitness center wasn’t too busy. There always seemed to be a lull between eleven and noon. Today, as soon as she walked in the locker room, she ran into Marianne Brisbane, who probably had the same idea she did. Marianne was a reporter for the Kismet Crier and had helped Caprice on a couple of
cases.

  Now Marianne greeted her with, “I like getting wet better in the summer than in the winter, don’t you?”

  Caprice laughed. “At least I don’t have to dry my hair in the summer. Are we going to race?”

  “Maybe for the first five laps, but then I just need to work out all the muscles that cramped up sitting at my desk. Actually, I was going to give you a call today.”

  “You were?” She wasn’t exactly sure what was on Marianne’s mind, but she could guess. Marianne had sources and contacts who kept her up-to-date on the most recent developments in Kismet. Murder was a recent development.

  “Video footage crossed my desk yesterday,” Marianne said.

  “What video footage?”

  “I have a contact at the police station who phoned me that someone had put video on their social media page about Drew Pierson’s murder.”

  “Witnesses?” Caprice’s heart started thumping.

  “No, not in the way you mean. You and your sister Nikki were on the video.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope. It was cell phone footage captured by a bystander. When Detective Jones found out about it, he made the guy take it down. But you and Nikki were standing outside the house. The footage showed a patrolman leading you one way and Nikki another. Split up for questioning, I would guess. Did you find the body?”

  “Nikki did, but I was right behind her. I went in to see if there was anything we could do, and she called nine-one-one. So, this video is no longer spreading around the fact that we were there?”

  “Nope. The police handled it. I went over it with a fine-toothed comb but couldn’t find anything important. It didn’t start until the police were already on the scene. Are you going to try to investigate this one?”

  “I might have to. The detectives will be looking at Nikki, and I want her in the clear.”

  “If I had a sister, I’d want her in the clear too. If there’s anything I can do, let me know.”

  Taking a stab in the dark, Caprice asked, “Do you know Jeanie Boswell, Drew’s sister?”

  “Can’t say I do.”

  “How about Larry Penya or Bronson Chronister? They were friends of Drew’s.”

  “Bronson Chronister. I’ve been hearing that name batted about lately. He’s become influential in Kismet. He’s good-looking, has family money and business sense. I think he’ll be the next Chamber of Commerce president.”

  Caprice turned to the lockers, opened one with a key she’d picked up at the desk, and plopped her duffel bag on the bench. “Drew’s grandmother is the only one who’s given me any information. I don’t want to push and prod her right now. She has enough to deal with. But I need to learn more about Drew’s background, even his younger years.”

  “I graduated a year before your sister Nikki. I think Drew graduated the year after you did, didn’t he?”

  “I really hadn’t thought much about that,” Caprice answered. “But that would be easy to find out. The library has old yearbooks.”

  Marianne closed her locker door. “There’s somebody working out in the gym you might want to talk to if you want to know about Drew’s teenage years.”

  “Who?” Caprice really hadn’t paid any attention to the members who were working out when she’d entered Shape Up.

  “Louis Fairchild was on the treadmill when I came in. He was the shop teacher when we were in high school, wasn’t he?”

  Caprice thought about it. She remembered the shop teacher with his red hair, freckles, and friendly green eyes. He’d been well liked. She hadn’t crossed his path in years.

  “He left teaching, didn’t he?” she asked Marianne.

  “He did. Rumor had it he wanted to make more money doing something else. He crafted the most beautiful furniture. I think he opened a store for a while. But he ended up as an insurance salesman. I don’t know if learning what Drew was like in his classes would help, but he might be a good source.”

  Caprice glanced toward the door that led to the pool entrance, then back to the door that led out to the gym. “I’ll catch up with you in a few minutes. I’m going to see if I can talk to him, if he’s still here.”

  Louis Fairchild was in the gym area. His red hair was almost all gray now, but he still had freckles. He’d beefed up a bit since she’d known him. That’s what working out would do. He was wearing black sweatpants and a white T-shirt. His jowls were a bit more saggy than she remembered, and he didn’t seem quite as tall. But she knew that was an illusion. She’d been a kid when she’d walked the halls of the high school. Back then, adults had just seemed taller, she supposed.

  When she approached him, he held up a finger. “One more minute, then you can have it.” Sweat beaded his brow, and he had a towel slung around his neck.

  She didn’t try to explain she didn’t want the machine. She just waited.

  When he completed his time, he turned down the treadmill, took a few deep breaths as it slowed, then stepped off the machine. “It’s all yours.”

  “Do you remember me?” she asked, knowing he probably wouldn’t. Fifteen years was a long time. He studied her for a few moments, from her straight brown hair to her jeweled flip-flops.

  “Your picture was in the paper.” Then recognition dawned on his face and he snapped his fingers. “Caprice De Luca, isn’t it?”

  “Right. I went to Kismet High when you taught there.”

  He smiled at her. “That was a lifetime ago.”

  “I was wondering if I could talk to you for a few minutes about Drew Pierson.”

  A somber look stole over his face. “Drew. I can’t believe what happened to him.”

  “I know. He wasn’t in my class, but my sister knew him.”

  “Then or now?” Louis Fairchild asked, curious.

  “Now.” Caprice motioned to a quiet corner of the gym. “Can we go over there?”

  “Sure, but I don’t quite understand why you want to talk to me.”

  “Nikki and I found Drew.”

  He frowned. “I’m so sorry. That must have been a terrible experience.”

  “It was. And what makes it worse is that the police are questioning my sister. She and Drew had rival businesses.”

  “What kind of businesses?” Fairchild asked.

  “They’re both chefs. Drew opened a catering company in competition with Nikki’s. So I’m guessing she’s on the detectives’ persons-of-interest list.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “I’m looking into Drew’s background. I know he was still friends with his high school buddies, Larry Penya and Bronson Chronister.”

  “Those three were fast friends, and they could be hellions.”

  “Drew’s grandmother hinted at as much. Can you tell me about them?”

  “There’s not much to say, really. They were your typical guys who didn’t want to be in school. Anything and everything was more interesting. Shop interested them somewhat because I kept them busy, working with their hands.”

  “Did they get into trouble at school?”

  “They were ordered to detention now and then, never suspension or expelled. They got caught drag racing a couple of times, but they weren’t charged.”

  “Why not?”

  Fairchild looked as if he shouldn’t say, but then he shrugged. “It’s really no secret. Bronson’s dad knew the police chief back then. That’s the way it was before Chief Powalski took over as chief of police. Money talked. One of the other teachers claimed they cheated on tests, helped each other out somehow, but no one could ever prove it. They weren’t just drinking buddies. You know, beer out on top of Lookout Point on weekends. They were as thick as thieves.”

  She realized that was just a saying, but she knew it was true. Until thieves turned on each other.

  Were Bronson and Larry really Drew’s good friends now? Or had one of them turned on him for some reason?

  Fairchild glanced at the weight stations, and she knew he wanted to continue with his workout. Sh
e should get to hers. Marianne would be about ten laps ahead of her by now.

  “Thank you for talking to me.”

  “No problem,” he said with a wry smile. “That article I read about you—it said you rescue stray animals.”

  “They seem to find me.”

  “It’s good work. My dog Nanook is a constant companion, a best buddy.”

  “What kind is he?”

  “Shepherd-husky mix. I rescued him from a shelter. Good luck with looking into Drew’s background. I hope you and the police can figure it out.”

  She hoped they could too. Wouldn’t it be great if they could work together for a change? But she knew that wouldn’t happen. She was a civilian. Carstead and Jones wouldn’t let her near the info they collected. But if Grant kept his ear to the ground, maybe he could find out what was going on. At least, whether there was a hint that Nikki could be charged.

  Caprice said good-bye to Louis Fairchild and headed for the pool. Twenty laps would clear her head enough so she’d know what step to take next.

  * * *

  After an early supper, Caprice was enjoying a cup of coffee and checking her list for the Nautical Interlude house staging with her pets nearby when Bella called her.

  “I know Jeanie Boswell.”

  “What do you mean, you know Jeanie?”

  “She prepared the flower arrangements for the school’s Christmas pageant last year. I worked with her, positioning them on the stage, and hanging garlands, setting up fake candles. I think we should stop in her flower shop and have a chat with her. Posies is open until eight, and Joe said he’ll watch the kids for an hour.”

  It was unusual for Bella to get involved in one of Caprice’s murder investigations, but they were all involved now because of Nikki.

  “I want to go see her. But she might not even be at the shop,” Caprice mused aloud, thinking about the grief a sister would feel. “Unless she’s working at Posies to keep busy. I was just trying to figure out an angle for stopping in, and I didn’t want to tell Nikki, because I didn’t want her to go along.”

  “Exactly,” Bella agreed. “Nikki needs to stay out of this. The police will just look on whatever she does as suspect. I know because of what Joe went through.”

 

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