When Joe was suspected of murder, his family and his life were in turmoil. Thank goodness he and Bella had gotten back on track. It had taken a lot of hard work and counseling with Father Gregory, but they were doing it.
“Does Joe want you involved in this?”
“Joe understands. We can stop in at Posies and tell Jeanie we need a bouquet of flowers for Nana. It’s true. Nana would like a bouquet of flowers.”
“Do you want me to pick you up?” Caprice asked her. “I have the Camaro back.” The police had released it.
“You know I think riding in that is as rad as Timmy does. Sure, I’ll save on gas. When can you be here?”
“I’ll let Lady out and be there in twenty.”
Lady wanted to go along, of course, but tonight Caprice thought it was better if she stayed home. She patted her on the head and ruffled her ears. “I’ll leave treats in your kibble ball. You can entertain Mirabelle and Sophia.”
Lady cocked her head and stared at Caprice with those huge brown eyes. Then she gave a little resigned “ruff” and went off to find Sophia and Mirabelle, who were taking their evening nap and were about to be bothered.
Caprice’s retro fashion sense seemed to irk Bella, but she didn’t let that bother her. Tonight she chose a sixties-style shift with vertical stripes in lime and fuchsia. She added white ballet flats, a white vinyl retro purse and was ready to go.
After Bella slid into the passenger side of the Camaro, she gave Caprice’s outfit a once-over and shook her head. “You’re an escapee from the past. Someday you’ll learn how to dress up-to-date.”
“I don’t want to learn. I have a whole history of fashion to choose from. Isn’t that more fun?”
Bella rolled her eyes. “I hate to think what you’re going to wear to Ace’s concert. Leather and rivets?”
“Maybe,” Caprice said with a laugh. “Grant might like that. I haven’t talked to him about it yet. I left a message, but we’ve been playing phone tag.”
Bella couldn’t help but break into a smile. “Yeah, he might like leather and rivets. My next-door neighbor’s going to babysit, so Joe and I are all set.”
“I’ll have to use a pet sitter to check on Lady and the felines.”
“Have you heard whether Uncle Dom has started pet sitting yet?”
“I don’t know if his whole bonding and insurance process has gone through, but he started Sunday night for a friend of Mom’s. He’ll be at the concert too, or I’d ask him. I hope pet sitting works for him.”
“I’m sure Mom and Dad hope that too,” Bella said wryly. “Any guest who stays as long as he has must cramp their style.”
“Their style?”
“You know, running around the house in a nightie, she and Dad going on a date night once a week and coming home to just watch a movie together. That kind of thing.”
Caprice remembered when her friend Roz had stayed with her during her husband’s murder investigation. Caprice had enjoyed having her there. But that was different.
In the summer, Kismet drew tourists from Gettysburg, Harrisburg, and Lancaster. They wandered in and out of the shops and helped the local economy. In spite of the increased traffic, however, Caprice found a parking space directly in front of Posies.
Twinkle lights surrounded the windows on both sides of the flower shop’s door. A summery display of silk flowers was arranged attractively in one window, and hanging baskets were displayed in the other. Inside the store, refrigerated cases held fresh arrangements and vases of roses, tulips, and lilies. The rest of the store was dotted with glass shelves displaying gifts and silk flower arrangements. Posies sold everything to do with flowers, as well as the trinkets and baubles to decorate them. One corner housed the balloon station, and several Mylar samples with printed sayings from Get Well to Congratulations to Happy Birthday bobbed near the ceiling.
“There she is,” Bella said, elbowing Caprice.
A woman around their age sat at the counter, studying the computer monitor before her. Caprice could see photos of flowers, and she guessed the page pointed to a website for ordering.
When they’d opened the door, a buzzer had sounded. At their footsteps, Jeanie Boswell looked up. She wore her brown hair pulled back into a low ponytail. She had a round face and wide-set eyes and didn’t resemble Drew at all. When she stood, she pursed her thin lips. She was wearing blue jeans and a T-shirt emblazoned with POSIES.
Her scowl almost made her look ferocious. “Your sister did it, didn’t she?”
Caprice was totally taken aback. Glancing at Bella, she saw her sister’s face was reddening, and Caprice knew that happened when Bella got angry.
“Why would you say such a thing?” Bella shot at Jeanie. Bella was always one to give as good as she got. She wasn’t particularly a peacemaker.
Caprice, on the other hand, tried to throw a wet blanket over conflict. Now she jumped in. “Jeanie, we’re sorry about Drew. So sorry. I can’t imagine what it would be like to lose a brother.”
At that Jeanie backed up a step, but her face didn’t show any other expression. She was silent as she crossed her arms over her chest. Ignoring Caprice’s condolences, she said, “I call it as I see it. Your sister had the most to gain from Drew being taken out of the picture. With him gone, she doesn’t have any competition.”
After another quick look at Bella, who appeared ready to pick up one of the flower bouquets and toss it at Jeanie, Caprice decided a little bit of fire of her own might not hurt. “Don’t you have something to gain with Drew dead? You’ll be your grandmother’s only heir.”
Now Jeanie’s face pinkened. She blurted out, “I would never—”
Caprice held up her hand as if to try to stop the whole interchange. “Let’s start over,” she suggested. “We didn’t come here to accuse you of anything. I’m trying to figure out what happened to Drew.”
“Someone bashed his skull in,” Jeanie muttered.
“Nikki and I saw that firsthand. We’re trying to figure out who might have had a grudge against him, or something worse. Can you tell us who he hung out with the most?”
Standing and pushing her stool under the counter, Jeanie thought about it. “Drew knew a lot of people, but his best buddies were Larry Penya and Bronson Chronister. Bronson owns that Happy Camper Recreational Vehicle Center.”
It seemed everyone close to Drew knew about Larry and Bronson. “Your grandmother told us Drew was cooking and catering out of Bronson’s kitchen. Do you know anything about that?”
“You should see Bronson’s house,” Jeanie said as if she envied the man. “Drew took me over there once. Bronson’s got a state-of-the-art refrigerator. You know. The walk-in kind?”
Caprice did know, because Nikki had one.
Jeanie went on, “His kitchen is all that stainless steel and black granite, three ovens, with an island in the middle. It was perfect for Drew to work out of. And Bronson isn’t there all that much. He’s either working or traveling.”
“That sounds like a friend helping out a friend. He didn’t charge Drew rent?” Caprice asked.
Jeanie shook her head. “No, those guys are tight . . . or were tight. They helped each other whenever they needed it.”
Again Jeanie sounded wistful, as if she wished she had friends like that.
“Did he hang out with anyone else?” Bella asked.
“There was another chef he once worked with and toured restaurants with. You know, if a new place opened up, they’d go and try it. His name is Mario Ruiz.”
The name sounded familiar to Caprice, but she wasn’t sure where she’d heard it.
“They worked together at a high-class hotel in D.C.,” Jeanie continued. “But when the hotel cut staff, both Drew and Mario came back to Kismet. Mario works at a downtown York restaurant now, a little expensive bistro that I can’t afford. He and Drew catch up when they can.”
“I heard a rumor that Drew got into trouble in his teens,” Caprice prompted.
“So you know abou
t the drag racing,” Jeanie commented.
Playing along, Bella said, “Just a little. Drag racing is serious trouble. You know I have a son. If he even thought about doing that, I’d lock him in his room.”
Jeanie gave a wry laugh. “There was no locking Drew up anywhere. He was stubborn and wild. Just ask any of his teachers. But then he seemed to get some sense when he went to chef school. He was different when he came back. I couldn’t believe it when he moved in with Gram after he left D.C.”
“You couldn’t believe Drew would do that, or you couldn’t believe your grandmother would want him to do that?”
“I’d never seen that side of Drew before,” Jeanie confessed. “Gram had broken her arm, was starting to have trouble seeing and getting around. So he said he’d help her out instead of getting a place of his own. He cooked her meals, bought groceries, drove her to doctors’ appointments when he could. I think he was trying hard to do what was right because it didn’t come naturally. Maybe he felt he wasn’t grateful enough for all those years she took care of us. On the other hand, he didn’t have to pay room and board, and he could save whatever he made. I think in the back of his mind, he nursed the idea that he wanted to open up a restaurant someday.”
That was new information. Had Drew changed his mind about that? Maybe he decided to go in a different direction after the barbecue sauce recipe sale?
“You’ve told us about Drew’s friends. Do you know if he had any enemies?” That was an important question in any investigation, Caprice knew.
Jeanie had to think about that. “I don’t know of anybody specifically. But Drew could rub people the wrong way without half trying. I don’t know anything about the staff he hired to help him cater.”
The buzzer on the door sounded, and a couple walked inside. They migrated to the refrigerated cases.
“Be with you in a minute,” Jeanie called to them. Then she asked Caprice, “Are we done?”
“For now,” Caprice said gently. “We really are sorry about Drew.”
“Thank you,” Jeanie mumbled.
“We’d like to buy one of those bouquets of sweetheart roses in the case,” Bella told her. “It’s for Nana. I think the yellow one would be great.”
Jeanie said, “I’ll wrap it up for you.”
Caprice was done asking questions for now. She really had no other choice. Jeanie had given her information to explore, even if she didn’t know about specific enemies Drew might have had. Caprice remembered how nasty he’d been with Nikki. Anyone who could be that nasty had to have enemies.
She just needed to find out who they were.
Chapter Eight
“Your uncle Dom isn’t here,” Nana announced, as she arranged the sweetheart roses in a crystal vase.
Caprice exchanged a look with Bella and her mom. Their mom had joined them at Nana’s for a glass of iced tea and girl talk.
“That’s just an opening gambit so you ask where he is.” Fran’s smile for Nana was affectionate. Caprice knew her mom had come to look on Nana as the mother she’d lost.
Valentine jumped up on the counter to explore the flowers.
“Oh, no, you don’t,” Caprice said, scooping her up and setting her back on the floor. “I have a feeling you’re going to have to put that arrangement someplace she can’t get to it.”
“That will probably be in the pantry closet,” Nana teased.
“I didn’t think of that when we bought them,” Bella said.
“I can keep them in our living room,” Fran suggested. “You can still enjoy them there, but Valentine won’t be tempted.”
Nana nodded. “Good idea.”
Caprice said, “I don’t want to steal your thunder, but I know Uncle Dom is pet sitting. I think it’s terrific.”
Her mother added, “Roberta and her husband had vacation plans and airline tickets when their pet sitter cancelled. When she mentioned it to me, I told her about your uncle.”
Caprice was about to say more, how her uncle was suited for the profession, when her phone played “Let It Be.” Automatically, she took it from her pocket and glanced at the screen.
“It’s Grant. We’ve been playing phone tag. Mind if I take this?”
Nana gave her a sly look. “It doesn’t matter if we mind, does it?” She waved toward her small bedroom. “Why don’t you go in there for some privacy.”
“I won’t be long,” she assured them. To Bella she said, “I know you have to get back home.”
“When Joe takes care of all three at once, he appreciates me more when I get home.”
Caprice had to smile as she headed for Nana’s bedroom, suspecting Bella was right. At one time, Joe had been a very macho and almost removed husband. He’d thought his job was to earn money and Bella’s was to take care of the kids and cook. But Bella’s third pregnancy had caused a crisis in their marriage. Now they were more appreciative of each other and worked as partners. It was good to see.
Valentine scampered after Caprice as she headed toward the bedroom. When Caprice sat on the mauve-and-lilac quilted spread, the kitten jumped up beside her and rubbed against her arm. She petted her soft fur as she answered Grant’s call.
“Hi, there. I got your message that you were tied up in court all day.”
“I’m sorry we couldn’t connect last night either. My client meetings went late.”
That’s what one of Grant’s messages had told her. She’d wondered about it, though, because late didn’t seem to matter with them. They’d talked at midnight some nights. She just wanted to share her excitement about Ace’s concert tickets and VIP passes that would be coming by overnight courier tomorrow.
“You sound tired,” she noted.
There was a long pause, and Caprice didn’t like the vibrations she was getting. She scooped Valentine onto her lap and rubbed the kitten under the chin. Valentine purred.
“About the concert, Caprice,” Grant said. “I can’t go. I have an appointment that day . . . that night.”
That was a funny way to put it. “Can’t your appointment be changed?”
“No, it can’t. I was going to tell you about it as soon as we had a few quiet minutes.”
She kept petting Valentine as wariness stole over her. “Why do we need a few quiet minutes?”
Again he paused as if this was something he didn’t want to tell her. Her heart skipped a beat, and anxiety stole into her stomach.
“Naomi is coming to town. She’ll be here for about a week to ten days, staying at the Purple Iris. I’m going to have dinner with her that night.”
Rarely was Caprice speechless, but she was now. Grant’s ex-wife had moved to Oklahoma after their divorce. Why was she coming here?
“I didn’t really want to talk to you about this over the phone. How about we get together tomorrow evening?”
Caprice heard Grant’s dog, Patches, barking in the background.
Grant said, “Just a minute, boy, and I’ll get you something to eat. He’s been with my neighbor all day,” Grant explained. “Simon does a great job with him, but he missed me. I need to feed him and settle him for the night.”
Was that really what Grant needed to do? Or was he avoiding the conversation they were going to have. And just what would that conversation result in? Their splitting up?
As if Grant could almost read her mind, he said kindly, “Caprice, don’t jump to any conclusions. Please. We’ll talk about this tomorrow night.”
From past experience, Caprice knew Grant compartmentalized. That’s the way he’d handled losing his daughter and losing his marriage. Now she wished they’d talked about all of this over the weeks they’d been dating. Now she wished she knew exactly how he felt. But this was Grant, and she didn’t want to wish him away. Maybe she didn’t have anything to worry about. But that conclusion didn’t ring true.
“I can cook tomorrow night,” she offered. “I modified Nikki’s recipe for beef bourguignon for the Crock-Pot.”
“You’re inventive.”
> Small talk wasn’t either of their fortes. “When I have to be,” she joked. “Is around six all right?”
“Around six is fine. I’ll see you then.”
After Caprice murmured “I’ll see you then” and ended the call, she sat and studied her phone for a couple of seconds. She had a knot in her chest that wasn’t going to go away until she and Grant talked.
And maybe not even then.
* * *
“I need your help.”
Caprice had been playing fetch with Lady out in the backyard the following morning when her phone played from her pocket. She’d taken it from her jeans and heard her uncle’s voice. If he needed her help—
“Is it Nana? Mom or Dad?”
“No, no, everyone’s fine. But I’m still house and pet sitting. I have been for the past few days.”
“How’s it going?”
“It’s going fine. It’s like being on vacation, really. I’m calling because you’ve had more experience with animals than I have.”
“I’ve had some. What’s the problem?” She wondered if he was encountering a behavioral issue with the animals he was pet sitting. That wasn’t uncommon when their owners were away.
“There’s a stray cat that’s been coming around every day. She’s a tortoiseshell.”
“Silver or dark?”
“Lots of silver, but gold and white and stripes too. My clients told me about her—that they’d fed her now and then. She’s thin and she looks like she really needs some care. This house is out in the country and there aren’t any close neighbors. So it’s not like I can go checking door-to-door to see if anybody lost her. If I had a place of my own, I’d keep her.”
“Have you talked to your clients about this since you’ve been there?”
“I called them last night. They already have two inside cats and a dog, and they don’t want to take on another animal. But I told them about you, that you’ve taken in strays and found them homes. They said it was okay if I consulted you. What do you think?”
“Can you tell if she’s feral? Does she want any human contact?”
“They haven’t had contact with her. She stays at least twenty feet away until they put the food down and go inside. Then she eats. With me, it’s been a little different. The first evening I saw her in the yard, I put the food down and waited. I just sat on the patio and kept really still. It took her a while, but eventually she came up and ate. I did the same thing each day. Yesterday, she came closer, maybe about three feet away. She looks like she wants contact, but she’s afraid.”
Silence of the Lamps Page 9
