Shades of Wrath

by Karen Rose Smith

  “Wendy doesn’t like us to feed him from the table, but you can sneak him a carrot or a piece of broccoli.”

  Not standing on ceremony, or even good manners, Caprice took a broccoli floret from her plate and gave it to the dog. He gulped it down.

  “He already had dinner,” Cody explained. “He’s just trying to get the extras now.”

  Caprice laughed. Leave it to animals to open up kids and adults.

  “He’s great,” Caprice assured the teenager. “What’s his name?”

  “Dover,” Cody answered with a grin. “He came from Dover, Delaware. He was a rescue. Wendy’s dad found him. He said he would have kept him, but he worked too many hours. He said this kind of dog needed to run and play and jump.”

  Cody nodded and added, “We said we’d take care of that.”

  “I have a cocker spaniel and two cats. Grant has a cocker too. He’s the brother to mine.”

  “Wow! Maybe they can all meet up and play sometime,” Kevin suggested. “Do you ever take them to the dog park?”

  “We do,” Grant answered him. “We’ll have to set up a time and they can play Frisbees together.”

  Just then the doorbell rang. Wendy and Sebastian exchanged a look. Wendy said, “I’ll get it. Keep eating, everybody. Dessert’s coming up.”

  As Wendy stood to go to the door, Caprice caught another look she exchanged with Sebastian. She seemed to suddenly look tense, her shoulders tighter, her body more rigid. Or maybe it was just Caprice’s sixth sense on alert. Nana often told her she had a strong one.

  After Wendy answered the door, Caprice saw a woman come in who looked to be in her late fifties. Thinking they needed some kind of explanation for the interruption, Sebastian nodded to her. “That’s Cordelia. She’s a neighbor.”

  Caprice studied the neighbor who had her head bent near Wendy’s when she saw that Wendy had company. The two women were speaking in hushed tones. While Grant and the boys talked about sports teams, Caprice’s innate curiosity had coaxed her to listen for conversation.

  The neighbor said, “I’ll make sure there’s someone there to meet her.” Then she lowered her voice even more. Caprice caught the word “Virginia.”

  The conversation didn’t take more than five minutes; then the woman left and Wendy was back at the table. She put on a cheery face and asked, “Is everyone ready for some carob and peanut butter cookies? And how about hot apple cider. Homemade, of course.”

  With an eye roll, Kevin said, “Everything’s homemade. And organic.”

  “You’ll thank me when you win another track trophy,” Wendy assured him.

  “Maybe,” Kevin agreed. “Knocking caffeine out of my diet did help.”

  Sebastian stood and helped Wendy get dessert ready. He brought over the tray of cookies to the table. “I still have coffee with caffeine in the morning. Wendy hasn’t quite convinced me to cut that out of my diet yet, but I’m working on it. I might switch to decaf, but she’ll never get me to drink that herbal tea.”

  The conversation turned to healthy food and cutting carbs. Caprice decided, by outward appearances, Wendy and Sebastian and the boys seemed to have a happy life, a normal life. Yet something about Wendy’s work, and even the vibes about the neighborhood, made Caprice wonder just how normal it was.

  She said as much to Grant when they’d returned to her house about an hour later and took Lady out for a walk.

  It was a beautiful night with a half crescent moon. There was just the hint of smoke in the air as if someone had lit a fire pit or woodstove to ward off the evening chill.

  Grant held Lady’s leash and the cocker heeled as well for him as she did for Caprice. Caprice still trained her several mornings a week with the usual commands. A year old now, Lady loved praise and treats, so it was a fun time.

  “What do you really think about the co-housing concept?” Caprice asked Grant as they walked.

  “I think it’s as you said—they act like one big family. I don’t know if that’s for everybody.”

  “You wouldn’t like it?”

  “I don’t know. It would be nice to have neighbors you can depend upon. On the other hand, I don’t really want people nosing into my business, my relationships, my activities. You know, like family does,” he said with a sly smile.

  He meant her family, of course, and he was right. But she was used to it. It was the way she’d grown up and the way she lived.

  “Did you hear any of the conversation between Wendy’s neighbor and Wendy?” she asked him.

  “I wasn’t listening. Kevin was telling me about his track meet.”

  She nodded. “I just heard a snippet, something about someone meeting someone, someone named Virginia. Or else they were talking about the state. It was hard to tell.”

  Grant stopped walking and she could see him study her under the streetlamp. “It’s possible you’re reading too much into a conversation between neighbors. I know what you’re thinking.”

  “And that is?”

  “You think Wendy helped someone relocate, either her name was Virginia or she went to Virginia.”

  “It’s possible. If the neighbor was involved with it, maybe that’s what they’re co-housing neighborhood is about.”

  “What? Secreting away wives who were abused?”

  “Possibly. Is it really so far-fetched? Maybe everyone in that neighborhood has known someone or experienced domestic abuse themselves. I’ve heard statistics that say, worldwide, one out of three women will have experienced abuse during their life span. That’s mind-boggling.”

  Grant started walking again but remained silent. Caprice understood Grant’s silences now. He was thinking about something, something he might eventually talk to her about. Finally, he said, “Speaking of family.”

  Her ears perked up, the same way Lady’s would when treats were mentioned. They stopped at the corner and Grant motioned across the street. They crossed and then started back in the direction they’d come. Caprice waited.

  “I spoke to my mom yesterday.”

  He was quiet for a few moments and then continued. “I asked her if she and Dad would like to come to Kismet for a visit.”

  Caprice couldn’t contain her curiosity. “What did she say?”

  “She wasn’t sure Dad would agree to the trip, either to fly down or to drive. She admitted he does have a vacation coming.”

  “Do they usually take vacations?”

  “No, they don’t. When he takes days off, he uses them to work around the farm. He leases out the land, but they still have a few chickens.”

  “It would be nice if they’d come to Kismet. I’d like to meet them.”

  “And I’d like them to meet you. If they won’t make the trip, would you drive or fly to Vermont with me? Simon said he’d be glad to take care of Patches.”

  Simon, Grant’s neighbor, was retired and enjoyed watching Grant’s cocker spaniel. Caprice hurriedly said, “I can hire Uncle Dom to stay at my house and pet-sit.”

  As they passed under another streetlight, she caught a glimpse of Grant’s expression. He looked worried.

  She stopped and took him by the arm. “What’s wrong?”

  “I want you to remember that my parents are nothing like yours.”

  He had talked about them a bit not so long ago for the first time. He’d mentioned his brother in passing too.

  “I haven’t led a sheltered life, Grant. I’ve been around parents other than mine. Roz’s mom for one and clients I’ve taken on. I understand if your parents aren’t . . . emotive.”

  “They can come off as cold,” he warned her. “It isn’t just a matter of not sharing emotions. It’s a matter of not sharing much at all. Your parents talk to anyone and everyone, and find it easy to do that. Mine are solitary. They have each other and that’s all they seem to need. But they don’t talk to each other the way your parents talk to each other.”

  “You mean saying everything that’s on their mind?” Caprice asked with a smile.

&nbs
p; “They keep what’s on their mind safely hidden.”

  She shrugged. “They’re your parents, Grant. I want to meet them, however we have to do it.”

  They were between streetlights, hidden under the canopy of a maple and an elm. Grant commanded Lady, “Sit,” and she did. During the next moment, he wrapped his arm around Caprice and kissed her.

  Her heart beat madly, and she wondered how a cool September night could suddenly feel so hot.

  When he broke away, he murmured, “You always seem to know what to say.”

  She countered with, “You always seem to know what to do.”

  He laughed. “You’re saying we complement each other.”

  She took his free hand as they walked. “We do.”

  He squeezed her hand and she thought again about meeting his parents. If he was thinking that far ahead, maybe he was thinking about marriage too. She knew she certainly was. Maybe it was time she started searching for a vintage wedding gown online.

  * * *

  Caprice’s Sunday open house was in full swing. Although she’d labeled the theme of this house Cozy Chalet, it wasn’t what most people thought of as a chalet. At 5,000 square feet, with a double-car garage and three levels that included an elevator, it might be shaped like a chalet, but it was at the high end of the sales scale. Located on a hilly property with a view of forests and pine groves out the front dormer window and off the back deck, it could be an advertisement for a ski lodge. It had four bedrooms—one on the lower level, a master suite on the main level, and two more on the mezzanine level. She supposed it wouldn’t suit a family with young children, but a family with teenagers could find it the perfect arrangement of rooms.

  The sellers, a couple in their late forties, had put the house on the market because they were empty nesters and wanted something smaller. But most of their furniture had been more fitting for a Colonial home than a chalet. Caprice was striving for cozy, and it started with the grouping around the floor-to-ceiling massive stone fireplace. Anyone who walked in here would find it a comfy home but could also imagine themselves staying here as if it were a retreat.

  She’d rented faux suede furniture in navy that anyone could sink into. The golden oak accent tables were thick and heavy. She’d used scatter rugs in navy and sunset colors. Whatever family lived here would be able to view the sunset from the French door windows or on that beautiful deck that ran around the living room and kitchen on the middle level. She’d decorated one of the bedrooms in primary colors with a simple oak bed, bookshelves, and desk. In the second mezzanine bedroom, she’d employed pastel hues and added whitewashed cupboards and a rolltop desk. The master bedroom on the main level was a retreat for the grown-ups in pale blue and rust with a king-sized brass bed, an antique armoire, and a cedar chest that could hold any prized possessions.

  Nikki had come up with quite an array of food in the beautiful kitchen with its white cupboards and black granite counters. She’d readied Gruyère and turkey paninis, a crab fondue, as well as a turkey burger slider covered in cole slaw. She also served hearty soups that could warm a skier on a cold slope—butternut squash soup and a tangy taco soup. The entrées today were all about what would be filling, hot, and comfy.

  And the desserts? Nikki served a brownie pie with a brownie as the bottom layer, peanut butter cream in the middle, and shaved chocolate on the top. Caprice guessed that would be the first to go. Her sister had also made fruit crepes for lighter fare and the filling had a splash of bourbon. She’d even come up with a gingerbread man cake accompanied by whipped cream topping. It was cute and Caprice suspected that would go fast too.

  Since drinks on a day of schussing were as important as food fare, Nikki made sure they had the proper machinery that would spurt out the perfect lattes, cappuccinos, and even mocha freezes. There would be milkshakes too. As always, Nikki seemed to be on the mark with the food and she knew what she was doing in the kitchen. She and her business might have been in trouble a few months ago, but she was adding success after success to her life now. She was more organized than ever with capable assistants. At first she hadn’t been sure she could schedule more than one event a night, but Caprice had convinced her to rely on others. To Nikki’s surprise, everyone she hired did a fantastic job.

  Caprice had tasted some of the food and was on her way down to the family room when she recognized the voice of one of the guests as he hailed her. It was her brother Vince. With his brown hair and dark brown eyes, his casual black slacks, and diamond-patterned sweater, he cut a dashing figure.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  He pointed across the room at the pool table where her friend Roz, of all people, had picked up a pool cue and was talking to someone. He waved to her and she came over to them.

  “Caprice wants to know what we’re doing here,” he said above the din of the other voices.

  Roz was tall and willowy with a model’s figure, shoulder-length natural blond hair, and green eyes. She and Caprice had been friends since high school. They were polar opposites in looks but kindred spirits otherwise. “You couldn’t tell her why we’re here?” Roz asked.

  “I thought she might like to hear it coming from you. You know, that bonding girl thing.”

  Roz proceeded to punch Vince in the arm.

  He held up his hands in surrender. “Kidding, really.”

  Everyone laughed.

  “So are you just checking up on me?” Caprice asked.

  Vince shook his head. “I’m considering buying a house.”

  While Caprice was trying to absorb that news, Roz told her, “You did a fantastic job with this one. I like the blue-gray color of the siding and the cream-colored dormers, as well as the French doors. The decks look as if they’ve had a recent facelift.”

  “I like the two-car garage and the game room,” Vince said. “I’d change that smaller bedroom on that middle level into a home office. It would be perfect for that.”

  “And keep the master bedroom on the first floor?” Roz inquired.

  “Sure. It has a great en suite. I love that huge shower.”

  Caprice looked from one of them to the other. They’d been dating seriously for months. “Do you think you need a house this big, this pricey, and one with an elevator?” She was still surprised her brother was considering purchasing a property.

  “I think Roz and I need enough room to pursue our different activities without stepping on each other. I don’t want her to feel I’m checking on her.”

  “And I don’t want him to feel as if I’m always looking over his shoulder,” Roz admitted. “This house seems like a good size for that.”

  Another surprise—they were obviously considering buying this house together . . . or at least living together.

  “Do you care that the utility room is in the basement?” Vince asked Roz. “You’d have to carry up the clothes.”

  “There’s an elevator, Vince. What more could I want?”

  “Let me get this straight,” Caprice concluded. “You’re looking at the house together?”

  Roz and Vince exchanged a look; then Vince decided to be their spokesperson. “Our vacation together was successful, and so . . . we’re thinking about living together.”

  “Vince is the one who’s house hunting now.”

  “I’m going to take another look at that slanted ceiling in the room I’d like to make into an office,” he decided.

  “Go ahead,” Roz encouraged him.

  After Vince headed toward the stairs, Caprice asked her friend, “You’d really move in here with him?”

  “I’m seriously considering it. He’s determined to buy a house on his own. He says if something goes wrong, then it won’t be so messy for us to pull apart. I’m a little worried about that because I don’t see it as a commitment. You know, if you leave yourself an out.”

  “Maybe he’s worried that you need an out.”

  “When did life get so complicated?” Roz asked in frustration.

&nbs
p; “Do you like the house?”

  “I can see myself living here with Vince and being happy. But the truth is—we don’t need anything this big. We had a wonderful vacation, Caprice. We got along, we laughed, we canoed, we tasted wine. It was great. I’d just like to see what normal life would be like with Vince. But I think he believes he has to compete with my past, what I can afford, what Ted gave me. He doesn’t.”

  Roz’s husband, who had been murdered, had been rich and powerful. But he hadn’t loved her as a husband should either.

  “Vince will figure it out. Trust him.” Then Caprice lowered her voice. “I have a question for you. Do you know anything about Alicia Donnehy’s marriage?”

  An expression crossed Roz’s face that said she did. She hesitated a second, but then she admitted, “I saw Alicia one day last winter at Grocery Fresh. She looked as if she had a black eye under her makeup.

  “What was her explanation?” Caprice asked.

  “She used the old ‘I walked into the door in the middle of the night’ excuse. But I wondered about it. And when we were at the reunion meeting one month, I saw bruises on her wrist. I didn’t say anything that time.”

  Caprice bent closer to Roz and lowered her voice further. “You can’t tell anyone what I’m going to tell you.”

  “You know I won’t.”

  Yes, Caprice did know Roz wouldn’t. After their high school days, they hadn’t kept in touch much, but when Roz was suspected of murder, Caprice had jumped in and they’d become fast friends again. Roz had stayed with Caprice for a while and even ended up adopting the dog that Caprice had taken in. Dylan was now Roz’s best buddy, just as Lady was Caprice’s best buddy.

  “So tell me,” Roz encouraged.

  “I saw Alicia volunteering at Sunrise Tomorrow.”

  Roz thought about it. “That makes sense if she was abused.”

  “Do you know if she’s still with her husband?”

  “I believe they separated right after the reunion. She and her son are living in an apartment on their own. She sees her husband, though. I spotted them together at the Koffee Klatch. Maybe he’s trying to reform his ways.”