Staged to Death (A Caprice De Luca Mystery)

by Smith, Karen Rose

  Suzanne tried to step in. “Mrs. Benson. This isn’t the place or the time—”

  But Mrs. Benson cut her off. “This is exactly the time and place. I don’t run in the same circles she does.” She turned her wrath on Roz again. “Your husband let fifteen workers go, some who only needed a year or two before they could retire . . . like my husband. Where is he supposed to get a decent job at age sixty? With no pension, what are we supposed to do? We’re not old enough for Social Security. I can’t get more hours where I work. Ted Winslow destroyed people’s lives. And for what? All because he wanted to take PA Pharm overseas and make more profit. Despicable! That’s what that whole company is. Maybe now that he’s dead, some of us can sleep better at night.”

  Caprice had had enough. She hurried to Roz’s side and pushed in between Roz and Mrs. Benson. “No matter what Ted Winslow did or didn’t do, you have no right to attack his wife. She lost her husband.”

  “Yeah, and he probably left her well off too,” the other woman muttered. Then she grabbed Mrs. Benson’s arm. “C’mon, June. I’m sorry I brought you in here with me. Let’s go.”

  As soon as the two women left, Suzanne’s face flushed with embarrassment. She said to Roz, “I can’t believe she went after you like that. I’m sorry.”

  Roz looked shaken but managed to say, “That wasn’t your fault. I just wish I had known everything that was going on at PA Pharm.” She shook her head. “I just wish I had known what was going on in my life. Was I absolutely blind?” she asked Caprice.

  “Not blind. The company probably wanted to keep layoffs and firings quiet until they shaved down their workforce . . .” She trailed off, remembering what her mother had told her about the parent-teacher meeting.

  “What?” Roz asked, watching her expression.

  Vince always told her she made a lousy poker player because too much showed on her face. No point hiding from Roz a confrontation that had been so public. She related her mom’s story.

  “My gosh! Ted had so many people mad at him. Anyone could have done this.”

  But Suzanne shook her head and lowered her voice. “Not just anyone, Roz. Someone with more to lose than anyone else.”

  Smart woman, thought Caprice. Just who did have the most to lose?

  One thing Caprice knew for sure. She was definitely going to fish around at the drug company and see what damaging information might be hidden behind closed doors.

  On Sunday evening, Caprice and Roz approached her parents’ house. It was the house where Caprice had grown up, and its architecture seemed out of place in Pennsylvania. In fact, it might have been better suited for California.

  When her parents had bought the corner property, with its golden stucco exterior, red-tiled roof, casement windows, and balconies, they’d known it would probably be a fixer-upper for the rest of their lives. They’d made improvements over the years that had made maintenance easier. They’d also designed an addition so Nana could have her own apartment. Her father had always maintained they’d gotten a great deal on a house they might never have been able to afford as a young, married couple because buyers didn’t want upkeep or to pour sweat into a project that could take years. But her dad had been used to working hard, and some of his construction-wise buddies had helped along the way.

  As Caprice opened the side porch door that led into the foyer—another door on the same porch led into the kitchen—she glanced over her shoulder at Roz. If anything could help her feel better, it was a dinner with the De Luca family. Roz had none of her own family to rally around her at a time like this. She didn’t have the comfort of anyone else who missed Ted . . . anyone else she could share stories with and bring back the good memories.

  Especially on Mother’s Day, she knew Roz could use some mothering. The past few days had been rough, to say the least. After their shopping trip, she’d learned her house had been released, but she was in hibernation mode and hadn’t wanted to face reclaiming it after the York County forensic team had done their job. Persuading her to come along tonight had been a monumental task. Caprice had finally enlisted her mother’s help. After a phone conversation with her mom, Roz had agreed to join them today.

  Caprice had parked along the curb behind Vince’s sporty sedan. The Santini family’s red van, as well as Nikki’s cobalt-blue sedan, lined the curb around the side of the house. Also parked there was a silver SUV that looked like Grant’s. Had her brother asked his partner to come along? Lots of drivers owned silver SUVs.

  Standing in the foyer, Caprice could see the empty living room through the high archway to the left. Voices carried to the foyer from the dining room straight ahead. A cuckoo emerging from an antique cuckoo clock on the dining room wall announced five o’clock.

  Roz said, “I remember being fascinated with that clock when I was a teenager.”

  Suddenly, Bella’s children zoomed from the dining room into the foyer. Timmy, Bella’s eight-year-old, was never still for long. Four-year-old Megan followed wherever he went. Caprice could remember trailing Vince around in the same way.

  “Where are you headed?” Caprice asked, when they would have run by her.

  Timmy motioned to the stairway that led to the second floor. “Gran needs her sweater. It’s on her bed upstairs. We’re gettin’ it.”

  Then they were gone, clomping up the stairs.

  “Mom probably has all the windows open in the dining room. She can’t wait to let warmer weather in. C’mon. I have to drop my cards on the table, stow this cream in the fridge until we’re ready for dessert, and slip this bread into the oven to warm it.”

  “I can smell onion and garlic and tomatoes. This house always smells so good.”

  When she, Bella, Nikki, and Vince were kids, the family had a hectic schedule. While Vince played basketball, Bella took dance. Nikki had been involved in soccer, and Caprice had taken music lessons. But their mom had urged them to sit down to dinner as a family as often as they could. She and Nana both agreed that a good meal was the one great event that could draw people together. That’s why on Mother’s Day, they insisted on cooking too.

  The dining room was bedlam, and Caprice spotted the vase of pink roses her dad always sent to her mom on this day. She knew a vase of tulips would be gracing her grandmother’s suite of rooms. Everyone stopped to hug each other. Another De Luca tradition. Amid “Happy Mother’s Days” for both her mom and Nana, Caprice noticed that her family enthusiastically welcomed Roz into the fold. Everyone was enthusiastic except for Grant, who stood to one side of the room looking uncomfortable. Caprice didn’t know whether she should just stay away from him and get involved in the rest of the commotion or acknowledge him. Long-ingrained manners took over after extra-long hugs for her mother and grandmother.

  “This is a surprise.” Probably not the best opener she ever thought of.

  As soon as she said it, Grant had a defensive tilt to his chin.

  “I mean—” she quickly went on.

  But Grant held his hand up to stop her. “Vince and I played one-on-one this afternoon. I said something about catching a game on TV and ordering a pizza, and he said I should forget the pizza, eat ravioli, and watch the game here with him, your dad, and Joe.”

  “You’re welcome to come anytime.” Again the words were out of her mouth before she had time to filter them. All she could think about was that once Grant had been part of a family too, and now he wasn’t. Dinners in front of the TV were probably the norm.

  “That’s what your mom said,” he admitted.

  “She and I think alike some of the time,” she joked.

  Then the air between them went silent even though conversations swirled around them.

  Caprice had the strangest sensation that she needed to step away before—

  Before what?

  She didn’t know. She lifted the container she’d set on the table during the hugging fest. “I have to put the cannoli cream in the fridge and warm up the bread. I’ll talk to you later.”

  W
hen he nodded, she suddenly felt as if there was a gulf as wide as the continental United States between them.

  After a quick trip to the kitchen, she entered the dining room again and, to her surprise, saw that Vince was the one talking to Roz. Caprice watched from across the room as her brother said something and Roz smiled. Good for Vince. He could use his “charm” gene for once today. She looked from her brother, who was usually grinning, to Grant, whose expression gave nothing away. Both men were dressed in jeans and T-shirts. Both were tall enough to make a game of one-on-one really interesting. Both could easily get weekend dates with a casual invitation. Vince did every weekend. Grant didn’t. Two very different men.

  She thought about her date with Seth next weekend. He seemed like the type of man who knew how to have fun. Did Grant? Or would someone have to teach him how to have fun all over again?

  That question was unsettling.

  A half hour later, Caprice’s father sat at the head of the table and asked for a quiet moment of thanks for the food before them and for mothers everywhere, particularly their own. Afterward Caprice passed the ravioli mounded high on the platter, the antipasto, broccoli casserole, and homemade bread. Conversations chased each other around the table. Nikki had taken the chair on Caprice’s right and Bella the one on her left. Grant sat between Joe and Vince on the other side of the table.

  To keep her focus from drifting to Grant, Caprice concentrated on Joe, wondering if Bella had told him she was pregnant. He didn’t seem bothered by anything and was joking with Vince about sports teams, as he always did. Bella, on the other hand, seemed quieter than usual. After she cut Megan’s ravioli into bite-size pieces she could handle, she reached over her daughter to tap Timmy on the shoulder, making sure he had everything he wanted. As Caprice had noticed many times before, Bella was such a good mom. Although acerbic and sometimes impatient with her siblings, she never seemed to mind fulfilling her children’s needs.

  And Joe? He paid attention when he had to.

  Apparently trying to make conversation with everyone around the table, Vince caught Bella’s eye and asked, “So what was wrong with your car this time? I heard it was out of commission.”

  “Heard from whom?” she asked tersely.

  Vince looked perplexed at her tone. “From Dad. Or Joe.” He glanced at Joe, but he was recapping a baseball game with Grant.

  Bella eyed Caprice, then answered her brother’s question. “A head gasket.”

  Vince let out a slow whistle. “You might as well put that money into a down payment on a new car.”

  Bella rose quickly to her feet and pushed her chair back. “Maybe you could do that. But we can’t afford that kind of bill every month. I’m going to cut more bread. The basket’s almost empty.”

  Before Caprice even had time to register what that was all about, Bella had disappeared into the kitchen with the basket.

  Nikki started rising to her feet to go after Bella, but Caprice laid a hand on her sister’s shoulder and stood herself. “I’ll talk to her.” If Bella hadn’t told anyone else she was pregnant, she sure wouldn’t confide in anyone right now.

  In the kitchen, Bella was sawing at the loaf of bread as if her life depended on it.

  “What’s wrong?” Caprice asked, keeping her tone low.

  “Nothing’s wrong.”

  “Bella,” Caprice said with some exasperation. “Everyone can see something is. Have you talked to Joe?”

  “Not yet. I’m just not ready. I thought you told Vince about the car and maybe about my pregnancy.” The last was said on almost a whisper.

  “I wouldn’t do that. I told you I’d keep your secret.”

  Bella looked guilty for a moment. “I didn’t keep yours. But I thought you’d want Nikki to know you were going on a date.”

  Caprice kept silent but transferred the bread Bella had cut to the basket.

  “I’ll tell him soon,” Bella assured her.

  Giving Bella a few more minutes to compose herself, Caprice returned to the rest of her family.

  Nikki tossed her a questioning look, but Caprice just shrugged.

  To her relief, Nana was asking Vince, “So who did you take out last night?”

  Nana’s dark brown eyes were alight with mischief. She always wore her long, gray-brown hair in a knot to one side of her nape, and today tortoiseshell combs decorated with seed pearls held it in place. Although wrinkles across her forehead and around her eyes hinted at her seventy-five years, her voice held the vibrancy of someone much younger.

  “How do you know I was out last night?” Vince returned with a grin.

  “If it was Saturday, you were out.”

  He gave up sparring. “I took Janet Grayson to a club in York.”

  “Where did you meet her?” Nana persisted.

  Vince might have shut down the questions with anyone else, but not with Nana. “I met her at the convenience store. There was a long line and we started talking.”

  Forestalling the next logical question, he added, “She works at the home improvement store.” He wiggled his brows. “She can get me a discount if I want to repaint my place.”

  “So you’re going to take her out again?” Nana wanted to know.

  “We’ll see.”

  “I’m not ready to give up on you yet, young man. When you bring one of your dates to our dinners, I’ll know you’re ready to settle down.”

  Studying everyone at the table, Caprice could see Roz appeared comfortable now, seated between Nana and her mother. They were keeping the focus off her, and that’s just what she needed.

  After everyone had their fill of the main course, Caprice filled the cannoli, garnishing them with the requisite shaved chocolate, pistachio pieces, and chopped, glazed cherries. Nikki and their mom brought in the coffee, and then all of them presented their mom and grandmother their photo albums. After comparing the pictures, which were different in each album, Caprice served dessert while her mom and Nana opened their cards. Conversations eventually dwindled. The kids had already been excused, and the grown-ups began clearing the table.

  Vince, Joe, and her father migrated to the living room and the large, flat-screened TV. Caprice, Bella, and Nikki urged their mom and Nana to sit and talk while the sisters rinsed dishes, stowed away food, and loaded the dishwasher. When Caprice returned to the dining room to remove the tablecloth so she could dump it into the washing machine, she found Grant standing at the triple set of casement windows overlooking the tiered backyard. Bushes and flowers adorned the upper level, while the vegetable and herb gardens spread across the lower level.

  “Not watching the game?” she asked lightly, wondering if he was going to leave because all of her family was too much for him.

  “I was hoping to catch you. Roz has given me permission to talk openly with you about her case.”

  “Has something happened?”

  “Not specifically. Not substantially. But I spoke with a friend in the D.A.’s office and he’s reliable. Apparently Roz seems to be the main person of interest.”

  “But there are others.” She hurriedly told him about the parent in her mother’s school who’d been laid off as well as the confrontation in Secrets of the Past.

  Grant rubbed his chin. “Maybe Detective Jones discovered her husband’s affair.”

  Caprice thought of something else he might have discovered. She moved a step closer to Grant and caught the scent of soap rather than cologne. “Did Roz tell you Ted’s life insurance policy would keep her comfortable for life?”

  “No, she didn’t.” Grant stuffed his hands into his jeans’ pockets. “She’s in trouble. They have more than enough motive.”

  “That’s why I’m going to PA Pharm and fish around.”

  Surprised dismay on his face, Grant took her arm. “No, you are not.”

  She stared him squarely in the eyes and stated firmly, “Yes, I am.”

  He must have heard the you-can’t-tell-me-what-to-do determination in her voice because he said
with just as much determination, “Then I’m going with you.”

  Chapter Ten

  When Caprice and Monty Culp pushed the rust and blue sofa into place facing the fireplace at the Gentrys’ house on Monday, Caprice finally admitted the room was almost ready. Monty had been a huge help and was a good worker.

  So why had he and Ted argued? Simply about cutting hours?

  Monty was in his late twenties, with limp, sandy hair that was usually falling over his eyes. He was wiry, but strong, and had hefted furniture like a mover. When she’d called him, he’d jumped at the chance to help her. They’d met at the storage locker, where they’d loaded everything they’d need into her van. Over the weekend, the couple had put into storage everything Caprice had suggested.

  Before she’d arrived today, Bob had finished painting the kitchen the palest blue, a backdrop for the rental company’s distressed white baker’s rack. Marge’s dining set was perfect the way it was. By evening the house would be ready for sale. Caprice had scheduled the open house for Sunday of the Memorial Day weekend. They’d moved fast because Grover and Marge were anxious to find their dream estate and move. Denise Langford was an expert at publicity for these open houses. Tomorrow, she’d have a crew shoot photos and video for her Web site.

  Monty wiped his brow and glanced up at the high ceiling and the wall of windows, which let in magnificent sunlight. “Nice place,” he said as if seeing it for the first time.

  “Yes, it is. Not as uniquely different as the Winslows’, but beautiful in its own right.” She was hoping to encourage Monty to talk about Ted. She hadn’t wanted to just jump into the conversation earlier, but now with everybody else gone, the timing seemed right.

  “You were a friend of theirs, weren’t you?” Monty asked, eyeing her curiously.

  “I’m a friend of Roz’s.”

  “Mrs. Winslow’s nice. She gives a guy an even break.”

  Monty had possibly seen her around when she’d visited Roz, but he probably didn’t know she’d been with Roz when they’d found the body. That information hadn’t been released. And Caprice was glad because that meant no reporters were hounding her. Yet Roz had gotten call after call on her cell phone that she hadn’t answered. Thank goodness, the journalists hadn’t found her. After the funeral, that might be a different story. Roz wanted to keep the service at the funeral home and the cemetery private, but everybody noticed when a hearse traveled through Kismet.