Shades of Wrath

by Karen Rose Smith

  Grant was silent for a few moments. “Carstead thinks this is a homicide?”

  “Yes, he does. After an autopsy, they’ll know for sure. But I don’t think he would have told me what he did if all the signs weren’t there. The workmen found her and they think it’s pretty obvious what happened. He’d already spoken to the coroner too. He asked me to take the stray cat that had been living on the property.” She told Grant about taking Sunnybud to Marcus and then her trip to Bella’s.

  “Do you think Bella will keep him?”

  “Only time will tell that. But I don’t think she’ll have much choice if Joe and the kids fall in love with him. I think they will.”

  Caprice and Grant were silent a few moments until he took her hand and squeezed it. Leaning close, he kissed her temple. “Wendy was doing important work.”

  “I know. I told Brett what I knew because he wanted to talk to me. He was going to call me. I forgot to tell you that Wendy phoned me yesterday. She wanted Brett’s cell number. When I hesitated, she said it was a matter of blackmail. So I gave it to her. But he was away at a conference and just got back late last night. He was going to hook up with her today. I think he feels guilty he didn’t call her back last night.”

  “Even if he’d called her back, he might not have prevented what happened today.”

  Patches rubbed against Caprice’s leg and she stooped to pet him again. He circled and circled so she could pet all of him. His furry little body was a comfort, just as having Grant beside her was a comfort.

  “I didn’t mean to barge into your day like this, but I didn’t know what else to do.”

  When she sat up again, Grant was gazing at her intently. He took her chin in his hand. “You can barge into my day anytime you want. The fact that we had dinner with Wendy and Sebastian on Saturday night makes this all the more real . . . and horrible.”

  “Brett was going to drive out to Sebastian’s after he talked to me.”

  Grant dropped his arm around Caprice’s shoulders. “So you and Brett Carstead are sharing information now?”

  “I’ve always shared mine with him. He knows a lot about me. Now that he’s dating Nikki, he knows even more probably.”

  “So he is dating Nikki? That’s for certain?”

  In the summer, Grant had voiced his opinion that Brett was interested in Caprice. But she knew better. Once the detective had questioned Nikki as a murder suspect, he’d been smitten with her, and her sister had been smitten with him.

  Caprice told Grant the truth. “They’ve gone on a few dates, but they both have busy lives, and his work is his priority. So I don’t think they’re super involved yet. Given enough time, they might be. He’s not interested in me, Grant, and I’m not interested in him. I told you that before, didn’t I?”

  He smiled. “You did.”

  Caprice had laid her purse on the coffee table, and now her cell phone sounded from inside of it.

  “Go ahead and get it,” Grant said. “I’ll make coffee.”

  As he stood and then crossed to the kitchen, Patches trailed after him, his toenails clacking on the linoleum floor.

  Caprice checked the screen on her phone. The call was coming from a Sunrise Tomorrow line.

  “Caprice De Luca here.”

  “Caprice? This is Lizbeth Diviney.”

  Caprice had been introduced to Lizbeth when she met with Wendy at Sunrise Tomorrow. The perky redhead, with a pixie haircut and huge wide smile, was Wendy’s second-in-command.

  Lizbeth charged on. “Do you know what happened to Wendy? I know you had a meeting with her this morning.”

  “The police were there when I arrived. Yes, I know what happened.”

  “I need to see you right away.”

  “About the Wyatt estate?”

  “Yes, and about the facility here. I just need to talk to somebody. Everybody here is in tears.” Lizbeth’s voice broke.

  “I understand. I’m going to make a suggestion that may seem a little odd. I need to stop at home and take care of my animals. Do you mind if I bring Lady, my cocker spaniel, along? She’s well-trained and sometimes having a dog along, or a pet to focus on, gives people comfort.”

  “That’s a terrific idea,” Lizbeth said. “Yes, bring her. See you in about an hour?”

  “An hour it is,” Caprice said.

  After Caprice ended the call, she saw Grant was standing in the doorway from the kitchen into the living room.

  “That was Lizbeth Diviney, Wendy’s right-hand person at Sunrise Tomorrow. She wants to talk to me. Everyone there’s upset and I told her I’d bring Lady. I think it might help.”

  Rising to her feet, she crossed to Grant and studied the expression on his face. “What’s wrong?”

  “I just had the very strong premonition that you might get pulled into another murder investigation.”

  He worried about her. She knew that. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she suggested, “I bet if I kiss you, you’ll forget about your premonition.”

  He took her up on her offer.

  * * *

  Lizbeth met Caprice and Lady at the door of Sunrise Tomorrow and ushered them into what was once Wendy’s office. Lizbeth couldn’t seem to sit still. She paced around the office, stopped to pet Lady, then waved her hand across the desk that was stacked with documents. “I’m so upset I don’t know what to do.”

  There were many things Lizbeth had to be upset about. So Caprice took a chair and waited for Lizbeth.

  Flitting to the file cabinet, Lizbeth pulled open a drawer and selected a file folder. Then she plopped it on the desk. It was about an inch thick. “This is all the information on the Wyatt estate. Look at that folder. And this is only one aspect of the work we do here. Granted it’s a big one right now. Wendy was grooming me to take it over. As she told you, I was going to be the director of the new transitional facility. But now I’m the director of this one, and that one, too, I guess. I just don’t know how to absorb it all . . . and do it quickly. Maybe I should take up speed-reading.”

  Lady stretched out on the floor beside Caprice’s foot.

  “If Wendy was putting you in charge of the Wyatt estate, then she knew you were capable of handling it,” Caprice reminded Lizbeth.

  “I’m familiar with most of the material. We want to be in the new facility by January. But Wendy played lots of things close to the vest, and there are so many details that I’m afraid I’ll miss something. Not because I can’t handle the Wyatt estate, but because I’m going to have to handle both facilities.”

  “Are you the acting director now?”

  “I got the word from the board before I called you. I’m the interim director until they have a meeting and make a final decision. That should be in about a week or so.”

  “If you’re the director over both facilities, then that means you can delegate, right?”

  “The problem is, Caprice, there’s no one with the level of responsibility or familiarity that I can delegate to. I assisted Wendy. No one assisted me. Not in the administration. Yes, in dealing with our clients and with the counselors and the advocates, Wendy and I oversaw the programs and chose the people who ran them. But each of those programs is an entity unto itself. Do you understand what I mean?”

  “Yes, I do. You didn’t have a right-hand person. The buck stopped with you and Wendy, and the two of you answered all the questions and solved the problems. Right?”

  “Right,” Lizbeth answered, finally sitting on the corner of her desk, or rather Wendy’s desk, and looking at Caprice with big, wide hazel eyes that suddenly filled with tears. “I know I’m driving myself crazy over the details because I’m so upset about what happened. I can’t believe she’s never going to walk through those doors again.”

  Lady suddenly rose to her feet and went over to Lizbeth. She looked up at her as if she wished she could comfort her too.

  Lizbeth noticed. She hopped off the desk and crouched down on the floor with Lady, petting her while tears ran down her chee
ks. Caprice didn’t know what to say or do for her, and she knew probably the best thing was to just let her pet Lady and let her cocker comfort her.

  Finally Lizbeth rose to her feet, went around the back of the desk, and sat in the chair—the chair that she realized now belonged to her, at least for the time being.

  “How can I help you?” Caprice asked. “Do you want me to go over my proposal with you, give you my notes about the content of the meeting I was supposed to have with Wendy this morning?”

  “That will help. You and I will have to sit down and do that, soon. But that isn’t why I asked you to come over today.”

  “Why did you?”

  “We have to be in that facility by January. I have to convince the board that I’m the person who can make it happen. But I’m afraid because of Wendy’s death, contracts might have to be renegotiated with the renovating crew, with the groundskeeper, with the professionals we use here at the facility.”

  “That would be crazy,” Caprice said. “As acting director, all of it should still stand.”

  “You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But Wendy’s name was on a lot of those agreements. Contracts weren’t necessarily made with the foundation or even Sunrise Tomorrow. So I don’t know exactly what’s going to happen. I do know one thing—if this murder isn’t solved, our plans to move forward could be held up, and I don’t want that to happen. I know that you’ve helped solve other murder cases. I want you to look into Wendy’s murder so that I can forge ahead.”

  Caprice knew exactly what she should say. “I’m by no means a professional in that field,” she told Lizbeth. “The police will do everything they can to find out who killed Wendy.”

  “But will they do it sooner rather than later? Will they find the right person instead of hanging it on the wrong person? I know your friend, Roz Winslow, was almost railroaded for her husband’s murder. I know your sister Nikki was a main suspect not so long ago. It’s like they target someone and try to make their case against them, and I understand that. But they don’t look around.”

  “I can’t interfere in their investigation,” Caprice told her.

  “I know you can’t, and I don’t want you to interfere.” Tears came to Lizbeth’s eyes again. “Wendy saved my life and so many others. She would do anything to protect a woman in a domestic abuse situation. You have no idea how far our network extends.”

  As soon as Lizbeth said that, she clamped her hand over her mouth as if she shouldn’t have.

  Caprice thought about the co-housing neighborhood again and wondered if neighbors were involved in more than potluck dinners. She saw the stricken look on Lizbeth’s face and felt it was sincere. She understood the importance of the work Sunrise Tomorrow did. She also knew, although Brett Carstead might have warmed up toward her, Detective Jones hadn’t. He would view any misstep as a reason to throw the book at her.

  The expression, however, on Lizbeth’s face made Caprice’s decision for her. “I’m not going to promise you I can solve this murder mystery. I’m not going to agree to take on the murder investigation.”

  When Lizbeth was about to protest, Caprice stopped her. “But what I will do is nose around a bit and see if I can find information that will help the detectives.”

  Lizbeth hopped out of her chair, rounded the desk, and gave Caprice a tight hug. “Thank you.”

  Caprice knew Grant wasn’t going to like this new turn of events. Her family wouldn’t either.

  All she could do was assure them she’d be careful.

  And she would be . . . this time.

  Chapter Five

  On Wednesday, Caprice was having trouble concentrating on work. So in the afternoon when her uncle texted her that he was free to visit the kittens at Dulcina’s house, Caprice texted her neighbor and was relieved to learn she was free too.

  When Dulcina opened her front door to them, Uncle Dom said, “It’s good to see you again.” Caprice heard that note in his voice that said he really meant it. Hmmm.

  “Come on in,” Dulcina invited. “I can make coffee or hot chocolate.”

  After they stepped inside, Uncle Dom told her, “Hot chocolate sounds good. There’s a chill in the air like fall is really moving in. Caffeine and sugar will do the trick.”

  Dulcina’s smile said she agreed.

  Uncle Dom glanced around the living room furnished with a gray and blue comfortable-looking couch and armchair, the attractive coordinating draperies, the gray-blue carpet.

  “It’s nice.”

  “I like it. We like it,” she amended as Halo sauntered into the living room to see what was going on.

  When the feline hesitated, Uncle Dom dropped into a crouch and held out his hand.

  Halo came toward it, eager to sniff. Once she did, she butted her head against his palm.

  “Maybe she remembers I fed her,” he said.

  “That’s quite possible,” Caprice agreed. “They remember who’s kind to them.”

  Dulcina motioned to the sunroom. “The kittens are napping. Go ahead and visit them.”

  Caprice noticed that Uncle Dom looked as eager as a kid when he entered the sunroom and spotted the three kittens who were cuddled in a circle in a pink and blue plaid bed. The bed was positioned in front of the stationary French door in a stream of sunlight.

  “Can I wake them?” he called into Dulcina.

  “Sure you can,” she called back. “They like to play even more than they like to sleep.”

  Caprice’s Uncle Dom was younger than her dad. When he’d first arrived in Kismet back in March, his life had been on a downturn. He’d gained about twenty extra pounds and his outlook hadn’t been sunny. Now, however, with the start of his pet-sitting business taking off quickly, the bookwork he did on the side for a couple of small businesses, and his new apartment, he’d lost ten pounds and wore a smile most of the time.

  He pushed his oval glasses higher on the bridge of his nose and didn’t hesitate to sit on the floor beside the kittens’ bed.

  Halo trotted over to check out what he was doing. She was still protective of her brood.

  He lifted Tia onto his leg. “This is the princess,” he said with certainty. “I can see her little crown.”

  Dulcina came into the room then. “It looks like a tiara. So her real name’s Tiara, but Tia for short.”

  Tia looked up at him, opened her mouth and yawned, and then rubbed against his knee. He patted her gently. She wriggled a bit and then jumped up, eager to play.

  Uncle Dom took a shoelace from his pocket. “I came prepared.” He wiggled it on the floor and Tia chased after it.

  Mason and Paddington were waking up now. They saw the string and jumped up out of the bed to pounce on it.

  Uncle Dom laughed as they chased it around the floor.

  “It’s easy to see you’re a cat person,” Dulcina mused. “Tell me about your place.”

  “It’s an older home, near Restoration Row where Roz Winslow has her shop. She’s the one who heard about it and told Caprice.”

  Mason jumped high in the air to catch the string and did a little spin.

  Uncle Dom kept his eyes on the kittens as he explained, “I have the second and third floors. There’s a living room, small kitchen, two bedrooms. But there’s also a stairway up to the finished attic for another bedroom. There’s a lot of light up there, and I was thinking about just taking off that door. That way, the kittens would have the run of the whole place.”

  “Does someone live on the first floor?”

  “Yes, a woman in her sixties. She owns the place.” He nodded to Caprice. “She likes to bake as much as you do. When I moved in, she brought me homemade sticky buns. Since then, she also baked me an apple cake. If I’m not careful, I’ll put back on those ten pounds I lost.”

  Dulcina said, “That third cup of hot chocolate should be ready now. I’ll go get our mugs.”

  “I’ll go with you.” Caprice followed her, eager to hear her friend’s thoughts.

  In her color-b
locked blue and white kitchen, Dulcina gave a little sigh. “I can tell your uncle’s a cat lover.”

  “He is.” Caprice didn’t say more, waiting for Dulcina’s verdict.

  “I’m going to miss them.”

  “It’s hard letting go. I know. It always tears me up when I find a home for an animal I’ve fostered. But if you know they’re going to good homes, that’s what matters.”

  “It sounds as if he’d provide a good home.”

  “I think Mason and Tia will have their own cat haven in the attic.”

  Dulcina smiled. “It does sound like that, doesn’t it?”

  “And you could visit them whenever you’d like. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

  “He’s not dating anyone?” Dulcina asked.

  “Not that I know of.”

  “How long ago was his divorce?”

  “It was finalized about two years ago. As I told you, he was estranged from his family until spring.”

  “And he came to Kismet on his own to patch things up?”

  “My dad had kept in touch with him. Uncle Dom would be the first to admit his life had gone south when he lost his job with a financial firm that went under and then got a divorce. He waited a good long time before he asked for help.”

  “Pride does that,” Dulcina said as if she knew. “After I lost Johnny I was in a really bad place. I didn’t want to ask for help. The house was too much for me to handle on my own. I’d let my work pile up and deadlines go by.”

  “What turned you around?”

  “I found a letter Johnny had written me before we were married. He talked about our future and how bright it would be, and how we should look forward no matter what we faced together. When I read that letter, I realized he wouldn’t want me wallowing in self-pity. He would want me moving forward. So I took one step at a time and put the house in York on the market to sell. Little by little I caught up with work. I found this place. I wasn’t happy, but I also wasn’t in the depth of despair anymore. Little by little, life became more fulfilling again. That old adage—‘Fake it until you make it’—is good advice.”