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.”
&
nbsp; “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.
Chapter Fifteen
Roz left the next morning, and Caprice missed her after she was gone. It was fun engaging in girl talk again with a “roommate.”
Of course, Grant popped into her mind as a possible roommate, and she shooed the image away.
On her to-do list this morning was a stop at Rack O’ Ribs. Later Nana would be pup-sitting while Caprice staged the Spanish house. She would definitely make it a Hacienda Haven, then Denise Langford could bring her other agents through the mansion for a tour. Later this afternoon, she’d meet Roz on the courts.
She wouldn’t think about Grant all day.
Lady looked up at her and barked. Her cocker knew she was in denial.
As Caprice drove to Rack O’ Ribs, she understood that restaurants weren’t staffed only during their posted hours. The manager and kitchen staff had to prep, and they came into work long before the restaurant opened. She drove around the side with the drive-up window and parked on the other side of the restaurant. Instead of going to the front doors, which she knew would be locked, she went around to the back. Lady had wanted to come along, but Caprice promised her she wouldn’t be gone long and then she’d take her to visit Nana to play with Valentine.
She was as fond of the animals that filled her life as she was the people in it.
There was a buzzer on the back door of the restaurant and Caprice pushed it. It was possible the manager wasn’t here.
A member of the waitstaff answered, his apron messy with barbecue sauce streaks. “Can I help you?” he asked impatiently. She read his name tag. It said STAN JONES.
“I’d like to talk to the manager, Bertram Dennis. Is he here?”
The young man glanced over his shoulder. He couldn’t have been more than twenty, and his immaturity showed when he answered, “I’ll check if he wants to see anyone.”
Caprice held the door as he went back inside, and she stepped in. Once inside, it would be easier to get her answers. Once inside, it would be harder for Bertram Dennis to ignore her.
But Bertram Dennis had apparently dealt with whatever came up. He entered the hallway and saw her standing there. “Can I help you?”
“I hope so.” She held out her hand. “My name’s Caprice De Luca.”
He cocked his head as if he was thinking about her name, as if he might recognize it. But he wasn’t making any connections.
“You’re Mr. Dennis?”
He nodded. “I am.” He still looked puzzled as to why she was there. “Did you have a meal you weren’t satisfied with at the restaurant? Something like that?”
“Oh, no. My sister and I were in a few weeks ago, and the ribs with that new barbecue sauce are wonderful.”
He appeared pleased to hear that. “They’ve been good for business, that’s for sure. Everybody must be spreading the word. Do you want to buy in bulk?”
She gave a small laugh. “No. That’s not why I’m here. I’d like to talk to you about Drew Pierson.”
At that, Mr. Dennis took a step back and frowned. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Besides, why would I want to talk to you about him?”
“I’m friends with his grandmother, Rowena Pierson.”
Mr. Dennis looked a little less hostile, but he still wasn’t ready to cooperate. “I already talked to both detectives on the case. What do you have to do with it, besides being friends with his grandmother?”
“My sister and I found Drew.”
Mr. Dennis’s eyes opened in shock, then he checked over his shoulder. Noise poured from the kitchen area. He and Caprice both knew workers were milling about. He motioned to her to follow him. “Let’s step in here.”
They proceeded a few feet down the hall, and he opened an office door. It was a small office, messy too. Papers were strewn all over the desk. But Dennis didn’t go behind the desk. He just closed the door and stood right beside it.
“Tell me again why I should talk to you.”
“Because my sister is looking for answers. She worked with Drew for a while. She runs Catered Capers.”
Dennis snapped his fingers. “The caterer who was fighting Drew for clients. Do the police think she had a reason to kill him?”
“They might,” Caprice admitted honestly. “So I’m trying to stay one step ahead of them. Please tell me what you knew about Drew.”
Dennis paced the office, then went around his desk and shuffled a few papers, from one side to the other. Afterward, he looked up at Caprice with a troubled expression. “I’ll tell you what I told the police. Pierson was a scumbag in nice duds.”
Caprice wasn’t necessarily surprised by the admission, but she was a little surprised by the venom in Bertram Dennis’s voice. “Can you give me a reason why you thought that?” If she had to push, she would. Because she had the feeling this man knew something . . . something important.
“So many reasons I probably can’t count them all,” he muttered. “But let’s start with my daughter, Tabitha. Pierson acted as if he was interested in her. He took advantage of her. He used his charm on her so that he could present his barbecue sauce to me. Somehow he found out that I knew the CEO of Rack O’ Ribs personally.”
“Why do you think he used your daughter?”
“Because as soon as the contracts were signed, he dropped her. If it weren’t for me, the CEO never would have heard of his barbecue sauce, let alone tasted it. I got him that deal because I thought he and Tabitha were serious.”
The bitterness was so obvious that Caprice wondered if there wasn’t more to this story. “Did he bother your daughter after he dropped her?’
“No. He wouldn’t even take her calls.”
“Did he ask you for more favors? After all, you manage the local restaurant that was going to sell his barbecue sauce.”
“I had to sell the sauce, and it had to do well or my ass was on the line. I threatened to tell the owner of the chain what a true jerk Pierson was, but Pierson blackmailed me.”
“How’s that possible?”
“Tabitha trusted him. She thought they had a future. She told him things she didn’t tell anyone else. She told him things about me.”
Caprice kept silent, not knowing if this man would tell her what those things were. When Dennis didn’t go on, she prompted, “Personal things about you?”
He looked uncomfortable. “Do you really need to know this?”
“Anything I know about anyone’s connection to Drew will help me . . . and my sister.”
He ran his hand through his hair. “All right. The detectives already know and so does my wife. No secrets anymore. Tabitha found out I had an affair last year. She saw a text that came in on my phone. I didn’t even know she knew, but Drew Pierson did. He threatened to tell my wife if I made any statements about him to the CEO of the chain. He had me. I made a mistake, and he knew about it, so I was going to sell his barbecue sauce if it killed me.”
“And now?” Caprice asked.
“And now my daughter thinks I’m a cheater. My wife knows I’m a cheater, because Tabitha told her after Pierson was murdered. She was so upset about everything that it tumbled out. And Drew Pierson’s barbecue sauce is a doggone success. There’s irony in that, don’t you think?”
There wasn’t only irony in it, there was motive for murder in it. Tabi
tha, Bertram Dennis, and maybe even his wife could be placed on that suspect list. The suspects for Drew’s murder were multiplying much too fast.
* * *
The tennis courts at the Country Squire Golf and Recreation Club were much different than the public courts Caprice and Nikki had played on. These courts were maintained with pristine white nets and janitorial care that rivaled any a maid would give inside a mansion. Caprice knew her way around the Golf and Recreation Club because she’d gone to dinners here, given workshops here, even played golf—very poorly she might add—with clients. But she’d never played tennis here.
Walking along a golf course on a beautiful day was preferable to running and sweating and tripping and exerting energy in the late-afternoon sun. But today she’d do that. Anything to get more answers to her questions. She’d wondered on the way here if she should just go visit Bronson’s Happy Camper RV site. But if she did, he’d be on guard. If she did, he’d know his way around and she wouldn’t. If she did, she couldn’t have easily cut off conversation she might want to, or leave when questions got too sticky. No, this was the better venue and she should stop second-guessing herself.
Was Grant second-guessing himself now that he’d brought Naomi to Kismet? Did she like the Purple Iris, the small town bed-and-breakfast? Did she feel Kismet could house her aspirations? Those questions led to the fact that Caprice was concerned Naomi would move here to be close to Grant. Should she text him that she was thinking about him?
With all of that racing around in her head, it was very easy to work off her frustration. Every time she imagined one of those questions she couldn’t answer, she slammed that ball so hard, she won her point.
Roz was a little taken aback at how hard she tried. “When did you learn to play like this?”
“I’m just playing to get the most out of the game.”
“Or demolish your opponent. This is just a friendly game, Caprice. I lob a ball to you. You lob one back to me, and we keep it going.”
Silence of the Lamps Page 19
