Staged to Death (A Caprice De Luca Mystery)

by Smith, Karen Rose

  Her cell phone vibrated again. This time she didn’t check it but simply let the call go to voice mail.

  “Okay, I’ll help,” Lonnie said suddenly, squaring her shoulders. “I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t. This is wrong on so many levels. And I want to help Mrs. Winslow. Besides that . . . PA Pharm is hurting so many people with its layoffs. It’s just not right. What do I do first?”

  “I’ll set up an appointment,” Vince said. “For as soon as possible. Believe me, Lonnie, you won’t regret this.”

  Caprice could only hope that was true.

  As Lonnie said good-bye and left Vince and Grant’s law offices, Caprice thought about PA Pharm, Chad Thompson, and the rest of the employees who’d sat around that conference table the day she and Grant had gone there. How many of them knew exactly what had happened with the expiration dates? How many of them had printouts with proof? Would they all succumb to PA Pharm’s pressure and keep quiet during an investigation? Or would one of them break ranks and back up Lonnie’s story?

  She stopped in the reception area to check her voice mail, remembering the missed call. There were two now. One was from Roz. She pressed that call to listen to the message first. Roz was supposed to have a meeting with her real estate agent to check on vacant apartments and condos. Listening to the message, she heard Roz say, “Caprice, I know you’re at the law offices. Joanie and I have been looking at condos. We’re at one in Vince’s building, second floor, number 204. When you finish up your appointment, stop by if you can. Joanie and I are discussing quite a few things and I’d like your input. Talk to you soon.”

  She could easily stop by. But before she headed for her car, she listened to her other call. A muffled voice warned her, “Don’t ask any more questions or you’ll be sorry.”

  She’d be sorry for asking questions? Which ones?

  “What’s wrong?”

  She’d been unaware of Grant exiting his office. He stood beside her now, briefcase in hand, suit coat back on, looking as if he was on his way out. She, of course, could tell him nothing was wrong, but just how wise would that be?

  She started with, “I had a message from Roz . . .”

  He cut in. “A message from Roz made you go pale and then red? I doubt that. Not unless—Is she okay?”

  “She’s fine. She wants me to meet her to look at a condo. But I had a second message.”

  “From?” he asked impatiently.

  His impatience made her just want to say forget it. She almost did.

  “I’m on my way to the hospital to meet with a family whose mom is critically ill. I don’t have a lot of time,” he explained, apparently realizing he’d been abrupt.

  “Someone warned me about asking questions.”

  “Exactly what did this someone say?”

  She found the message again. She hadn’t deleted it. She gave it to Grant so he could listen. His brow furrowed and he frowned. “Don’t delete that message. We can probably trace it.”

  “My guess is that call was made from a prepaid phone or a pay phone.”

  “Do you want to call Detective Jones?” Grant asked.

  “And say what? Someone told me to not ask questions? He could think I had a friend do this to move their investigation away from Roz.”

  “I don’t like it, Caprice. Between the SUV and the phone call—”

  “We know nothing.”

  Grant rubbed his forehead. “No, we don’t. Really, you’re better off that way. It might be even better if you don’t go anywhere alone in the dark for a while.”

  She didn’t have to say what she was thinking.

  “You don’t want any of this to affect your life, but it is. Give it a rest, will you?”

  She let out a sigh. “I’m going to be preoccupied with getting everything ready for Mom’s birthday party on Monday. In the meantime, I’m staging a loft to sell. My theme is Bachelor’s Night In. Maybe you should take a look at the place.”

  “I’m not your usual bachelor. I’m happy with what I have.”

  He wasn’t your usual bachelor because he didn’t date? Or because he didn’t feel like a bachelor? Did he still feel married?

  Grant checked his watch. “I’ve got to get going or I’m going to be late.” He started toward the door, then turned around. “By the way, I received an e-mail invitation to your mom’s birthday picnic and RSVP’d to Bella. Do you think your mom would like chocolates? Truffle Delight has great raspberry truffles.”

  “I’m sure she’d like them. Like all of us, she has a sweet tooth.” She paused, then added, “I’m glad you can come.”

  “The way you De Lucas throw a party, I wouldn’t miss it.”

  On that note he left.

  Although Giselle seemed to be engrossed in work, she said, “I RSVP’d to Bella too. I hope the weather holds for you.”

  “Rain or shine, we’ll make it work. The De Lucas always do.”

  “You’re lucky,” Giselle said. “My son lives across the country. Bill and I wished we had more kids. But Jason was it. As we’re getting older . . .” She stopped. “Sometimes we think about moving to Texas where he is.”

  “Do you want to do that?”

  “We’re not sure. We have good friends here. But he’s our son and we miss him.”

  “I understand. I know Vince would certainly miss you if you moved.”

  “He could replace me.”

  “Certainly not easily. When you come to Mom’s birthday bash, we’ll make you feel like you’re part of our family. Then you won’t want to leave.”

  Giselle laughed. “Tell me what your mom might like for her birthday.”

  “Anything pretty. She loves pretty things.”

  “Does she collect anything?”

  Caprice thought about her mom’s favorite things. “She’ll be putting out hummingbird feeders. I got her interested last year when I started hanging them in the backyard. I’m sure she’d like another one.”

  “Now that sounds like a great idea. I’ll see what I can find. You have a good day.”

  “You too.”

  As Caprice left Vince and Grant’s office, she knew Giselle would be irreplaceable. If she left, Vince would miss not only her work ethic, but also her presence. She was a positive force in his office, and it would be hard to find someone else to fill her shoes.

  Grant was already gone from the small parking lot when Caprice went outside. She thought again about the warning she’d received. Had the voice sounded just a little bit familiar? It had been disguised and it sounded like a man. But it could be any man. Besides that, she might be mistaken that she’d heard it before. Between clients, open house guests, the employees at PA Pharm, and the mourners at the funeral, she’d have a lot of voices to sort through. But if she played it again and again and again, maybe a memory would kick in.

  After climbing into her car and leaving the parking lot, Caprice headed deeper into the downtown area of Kismet. Its charm was definitely rooted in its early-1900s heritage. Many of the red-brick buildings displayed white trim around the windows and under the eaves. Several of the shops sported oval signs hung on wrought-iron brackets. Vince’s building had once been a two-story elementary school. More than five years ago, it had been renovated into condos, four on each floor. Vince’s condo was on the first floor.

  Caprice headed into the side parking lot and pulled into a visitor’s space. The residents of the condo had their own row of garages to the rear of the building, and a walkway led from the eight garages to the condos.

  After walking to the front door, she ran up the stairs and went inside. A small lobby housed mailboxes to the left, and double doors led upstairs to the right. She took those stairs quickly and strolled down the hall until she found 204 and rang the bell.

  When Joanie came to the door, all smiles, she said, “Roz is ready to sign the lease, but I think she wanted you to look around first.”

  The best feature of these condos was the tall windows divided into nine panes by white
grids. With the southern exposure, the windows let in streams of afternoon sunlight. Roz’s condo was laid out differently from Vince’s. Her brother’s was a two-bedroom unit. But his kitchen, living room, and dining area were parts of one open space. This unit’s foyer led into a high-ceilinged great room. The walls were cream-toned and sand-textured. An archway to the left opened into the kitchen, and Caprice could see another archway from there and a dining room beyond. The bedroom hallway could be negotiated from either the living room or the dining area.

  Caprice estimated the unit occupied about fifteen hundred square feet. Certainly not what Roz was used to. The condo was empty, and the wood floors gleamed with recently polished splendor. Roz sat in a corner of the living room at a card table with two folding chairs, papers spread before her.

  When she saw Caprice, she smiled. “Take a look around and see what you think. Don’t analyze staging it. Just think about me living in it.”

  After Caprice studied the bedrooms and the amount of light pouring into each, the master bathroom, and the powder room off the hall, she came back to Roz and asked, “You’ll be okay in this amount of space?”

  “I was used to a lot less before I met Ted. Even in our house, I mostly lived in our bedroom, sitting area, and the kitchen. Just how much space does one person need?”

  Caprice had often asked herself that when she staged monstrous luxury homes.

  “How would you decorate it?” Caprice wanted to see if Roz really pictured herself here.

  “I don’t care if something is in or out. You know me. I like curvy furniture, nice thick rugs, jewel colors. I know you’ll do a good job for me.”

  They exchanged a look, and they both laughed.

  “Tell her your other news,” Joanie prodded. “I’ll see if I can get hold of the manager.” Taking her phone out, she went into the kitchen so Roz and Caprice could talk.

  “What other news?” Caprice studied Roz, trying to figure out if it was bad or good.

  “An offer came in on the house.”

  “And . . .”

  “It’s a low offer.” She named the price. And lowball or not, it was more than enough to fund anybody’s retirement.

  “Have you decided what you’re going to do?”

  “I can either take the offer, counter, or wait for something better. The real question is whether or not I want to sell the house and move on.”

  Caprice was glad to see that Roz had clarified it for herself. “Still . . . you know counselors give the advice not to make life-changing decisions the first year after a spouse dies.”

  “I suppose that’s good advice. But my situation is a little different, don’t you think? Why would I want to hold on to it and have that reminder of what happened? I can remember the good times in my marriage to Ted without the house.”

  “Why don’t you consider it overnight, at least?”

  “I’ll think about the offer on the house. Later you and I can discuss it more. And I’m having lunch with Dave tomorrow. Maybe he can give me an unbiased opinion too. But I’d like to sign the lease on this condo. If I get arrested, well, I guess I’ll have to forfeit the security deposit.”

  Although Roz was being flippant, Caprice could sense the real worry underneath her cavalier attitude. “I think an investigation with PA Pharm is going to take the pressure off the case against you. But I’m not sure you should move in any place by yourself until Ted’s killer is apprehended.”

  Roz looked around the room, as if by imagining herself here, she could have an optimistic outlook. “Did you mean what you said about me taking Dylan?”

  “He’s adopted you. He follows you around, sits in your lap, and sleeps with you. I want to see you both happy. So yes, I meant it. I know you’ll give him a good home.”

  Roz’s eyes glistened with unshed emotion. “I don’t know what I would have done without you through all of this.” She stared down at the papers again. “You know this is only the second place I’ve looked at. And if I take Dylan, he really should have a yard. Maybe I shouldn’t be so eager to sign.”

  This was exactly why a person with any kind of loss shouldn’t make a major decision the first year. Roz had to be hurt, angry, and maybe even confused by everything that had happened. But an impulsive decision could definitely cause her more stress.

  Or could get her killed.

  “I’m sure Joanie won’t mind showing you other properties.”

  Roz lowered her voice. “But she’s calling the manager.”

  “She is. But you haven’t signed anything yet. You’re not committed. Be sure, Roz.”

  “I’ll stop at your house before I visit more properties, so I can let Dylan out. What are you up to?”

  “I have to drop off furniture and a few art pieces at the Heinz’s loft. I’m going to have tea with Nana around two. Do you want to come?”

  “I don’t think so. I don’t know how long I’ll be tied up with Joanie. And then I think I just want some time to chill with Dylan and Sophia and the kittens. Your grandmother is a sweetie, but—”

  “But you need alone time. I get that. Give the furry brigade cuddles for me.”

  Since Roz looked like she needed a cuddle herself, Caprice gave her a hug. “I’ll see you around supper time, and we’ll create something brilliant with a pound of ground beef.”

  When Roz laughed and hugged her back, Caprice knew her friendship with Roz was becoming almost as strong as her friendship with her sisters. What would happen if she was arrested? What would Caprice do then?

  Her friend wasn’t going to get arrested. She was going to figure this out. Had Isaac found the provenance of the dagger yet?

  That was her next clue on her list to investigate.

  Caprice cherished her teatime with Nana Celia. She and her grandmother had shared a cup of tea as often as they could since Caprice was around ten. When she was sick and had to stay home from school, Nana took care of her and always brewed tea. When she had good news to share, she’d visit her Nana, and her grandmother would bring out a box of wonderful flavored teas. As a child, the idea of strawberry or blackberry or peach tea had been a treat like a piece of candy. But even more than the tea, she enjoyed her grandmother’s stories. Caprice had asked over and over again why Nana had married when she was only seventeen. She’d enquired about her grandfather’s barbershop and studied old photo albums. Nana Celia embodied family history, Old World charm, and all the best traditions. She was cooking and laughter and comfort and joy.

  She’d called Isaac before she reached the door of Nana’s suite but had only reached his machine at the shop. She’d have to try again.

  Fifteen minutes later Caprice was sitting with Nana in her parlor. At least that’s the way she thought of the small living room. Nana’s taste ran to antiques, lace, and small, flowered patterns in lilac, yellow, and pink. Her grandmother was regal. Only five feet three, Nana always held her head up high and her shoulders straight. They were seated in wing chairs near a window, sipping from delicate teacups, munching on biscotti laid out on the tray on the marble-top Victorian table between them.

  “So tell me what you’ve been doing since our dinner,” Nana invited. “You haven’t called.”

  Caprice felt a pang of guilt. No, she hadn’t, except to confirm they were having tea today. “Mostly, I’ve been thinking about Mom’s party and turning a loft into a bachelor pad.”

  “That will be great if you sell it to a bachelor. Narrow market, isn’t it?”

  Caprice had to laugh. “It might be. But I think it will work. There are unmarried men in the area.”

  “Then why aren’t you dating them?” Nana asked in a serious tone.

  Her grandmother never let her get away with anything. So she revealed, “I am. I had a date last weekend.”

  “Tell me about him.”

  “He’s a doctor at the urgent care center. So his hours are all over the place. We played miniature golf, but then he got called away.”

  “Do you like him?” />
  “I do, and I think the date went well. He sent me red roses.”

  “Flowers! A traditionalist. Maybe men do still know how to court a woman.” After sips of tea, Nana said, “I saw you and Grant discussing your friend.”

  So why had Nana brought up Grant?

  “Is Roz still staying with you?” her grandmother asked.

  “Yes, she is, but she’s looking at apartments and condos.”

  Nana studied Caprice thoughtfully. “But you’re still worried about her?”

  “I am. The police haven’t found the killer yet. She wants to move into her own place . . . alone.”

  “I’ve heard talk that you’re trying to figure out who killed her husband.”

  “Talk from whom?”

  Before Nana could answer, the door that connected Nana’s suite of rooms with the main house opened and Bella walked in.

  Nana responded to Caprice’s question, “Bella told me.”

  Caprice glared at her sister. She didn’t want her grandmother to worry. “And just what did Bella say?”

  Sweeping into the room like royalty, Bella took a biscotti from the dish. “So you’re probably talking about the murder. Nikki says that’s all you have on your mind. I told Nana you’re asking questions at Curls R Us and PA Pharm. That’s true, isn’t it?”

  Crossing to the small table where they sat, Bella dragged one of the chairs with needlepoint seats over next to Caprice.

  Caprice automatically warned, “You shouldn’t be moving furniture.” If Bella was pregnant she should be careful.

  But Bella gave her a baleful look, and Caprice knew her secret still wasn’t out. Just when was she going to tell Joe? When she started showing?

  “So tell me what you found out,” Nana said. “Don’t leave me in the dark.”

  “I haven’t found out anything concrete.”