Shades of Wrath

by Karen Rose Smith

“Unusual, but not impossible. The father was rich and well-connected.”

  “Was there any buzz about it afterward?”

  “There was a lot of supposition about the kind of father and husband he was. If the woman was fearing for her child at all, that could be why she ran.”

  “But they disappeared from Wendy’s neighborhood,” Caprice murmured. “I wonder if it was possible that she helped them disappear. I heard she has a network that extends far beyond what anybody expects.”

  “Just how would you disappear in this day and age?” Bella wanted to know. “It’s like Big Brother is watching you everywhere. Any trace on the computer and they’d be found. Credit cards can be tracked and phones can be pinged.”

  “Maybe. But if someone’s smart enough and knows exactly what they’re doing, I imagine new identities can still be bought. Fake IDs can be made. A new identity, a new social security number, a fake driver’s license. It would all be possible with the right kind of help.”

  “That stuff actually happens?” Bella asked.

  “I’m not sure, but it’s possible.”

  While Caprice mulled over the information Bella had provided, she heard a meow in the kitchen.

  Bella immediately went to the dining area of the room. Caprice followed her.

  “He’s hungry. It’s almost lunchtime.”

  Bella went to the refrigerator, took out a can of cat food, and plopped half of it on a ceramic dish she pulled from the cupboard. Then she set it on a placemat on the floor where a water dish stood.

  “Hey, Sunnybud. We have company. Remember her?”

  The cat gave Caprice a look, then began eating.

  “You should see how the sun glows off of him when he sits in it. And he’s become everybody’s buddy.”

  Sunnybud stopped eating and looked up at Bella with trusting green eyes.

  She stooped down to pet him. “I’ll give you crunchies later.”

  “I think you like him,” Caprice said with obvious surprise. She’d expected Joe and the kids to befriend Sunnybud, not Bella. But from her manner with the feline, Caprice could tell her sister was already attached, whether she’d admit it or not. “I’ll help you pack up the orders; then I’m headed over to Sebastian Thompson’s house.”

  Bella shook her head. “I can only imagine what he’s going through. Do you want to stay for lunch? I made homemade tomato soup, and we can have tuna sandwiches to go with it. Joe stocked up on tuna.”

  There was a twinkle in Bella’s eye, and Caprice liked seeing it there. She imagined someone was sneaking Sunnybud tuna . . . and that someone was Bella.

  * * *

  When Caprice arrived at Sebastian’s home, she spotted his Land Rover in the carport and knew he was there. When he answered the kitchen door, she could see the grief in his eyes. He didn’t hesitate to invite her inside.

  “It’s good to see you,” he said.

  Although they’d met only recently, she couldn’t help but set the coconut cake on the counter and give him a hug. Tears came to her own eyes, and she said, “I’m so sorry.”

  “I know. Everybody’s been saying that and I don’t know what to tell them in return. Sorry is about what sums it all up. If Wendy had died of natural causes, maybe I could understand it. But this?”

  “It’s senseless. The work she did was so noble.”

  “Downright gritty and dangerous sometimes too,” Sebastian supplied, as if he wanted to talk about it with someone. “Can I get you a cup of coffee? I’ve kept a pot brewing ever since all this happened. People have been stopping in. The neighbors thought I needed company that whole first day and the next. And they were probably right. But at some point I have to deal with it on my own with the boys.” He nodded toward the living room.

  Kevin and Cody were on the sofa, remote controls in their hands, playing a game on the flat-screen TV. Dover sat between their feet, gazing up at the screen.

  “I’ve kept them home from school this week. I figure mindless video games will help them process. Maybe I’m wrong. But at least I know where they are and what they’re doing. If they have questions, I’m here to answer them. Not that I have any answers.”

  “Nobody does in a situation like this. And yes, I’d be glad for a cup of coffee.”

  He poured her a mug and they sat at the round oak table under the wrought-iron chandelier. She could hear the blip, blip, blip and the bong, bong, bong of the video game the boys were playing, and she imagined they could hear her conversation with Sebastian too.

  He took the milk carton from the refrigerator and set it on the table beside the sugar bowl. “Wendy would have poured this into a little creamer, but I just can’t work up the energy to think it matters.”

  “It doesn’t, Sebastian. Not now. This isn’t about prettying things up. It’s about dealing with what happened.”

  While Caprice added milk and sugar to her coffee, he poured his black and sat down across from her. “Did you know Wendy was Catholic?”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Sometimes she would go out to the six a.m. Mass at St. Francis.”

  “I never get to that one,” Caprice admitted with a smile.

  “If we were helping somebody relocate, we often did that on Sundays. In some ways, I think Wendy’s work was her religion.”

  “I can understand that. From what I’ve learned since she died, this was a very personal cause to her.”

  “It certainly was.”

  The dog suddenly stood, stretched, and meandered into the kitchen. He went to Sebastian first and propped his muzzle on Sebastian’s knee.

  “Even he knows.”

  “They do, and pets are a great comfort. My guess is, your boys talk to him.”

  Sebastian gave her a weak smile. “You’re right about that. Sometimes I go into Cody’s room and he’s talking to him like he never talks to me. Kevin began spending more time with Wendy. They often took bike rides together. Cody is the quieter one.”

  Confirming what Caprice had guessed, Cody looked their way as if he’d heard what his father had said.

  Sebastian lowered his voice. “He’s a computer geek and happily admits it.”

  Cody called in from the living room. “I’m going to major in computer science and artificial intelligence when I go to college. Why hide that fact?”

  “It’s good he knows what he wants to do,” Caprice commented.

  “I suppose so. Wendy had already downloaded college catalogs online. We were going to tour campuses in the spring.”

  Caprice realized that when a loved one died you didn’t only lose them, you lost your hopes and dreams for the future.

  “I think my neighbors decided they needed to support me because the detective interviewed me that first day for hours. He wanted to know so many details of our life.”

  From past experience Caprice realized the spouse or significant other was always considered the prime suspect. “Did you call a lawyer?” she asked.

  “No, I didn’t have a lawyer. Wouldn’t that make me look guilty?”

  Caprice shrugged. “That’s one way of looking at it. On the other hand, you need to protect your rights. If they decide you’re on their persons of interest list, you need to have good advice.”

  “I can’t believe they’d suspect me.”

  “I’ve been in several situations where the detectives do suspect an innocent person. And once they make you their target, it’s hard to divert their attention again.”

  Sebastian looked worried now. “So you really think I should get a lawyer? Would Grant help me?”

  “Grant isn’t a criminal defense attorney and neither is my brother. But I’m sure they could recommend someone.”

  He shook his head again and glanced toward his boys. “I’m all they have.”

  “I think you should know that Lizbeth asked me to look into Wendy’s murder. I’ve done a bit of mystery solving in the past. She thinks I might be able to gather information the police can’t, and she doesn’t want anyt
hing to stand in the way of renovating the Wyatt estate and having the facility up and running by January.”

  “Lizbeth asked you to do this?”

  “She did. I think she’s feeling quite overwhelmed.”

  “Yes, she is,” Sebastian agreed. “It’s a lot for one person to take on. So you’re really going to look into this?”

  “Already I have some information that I don’t know if the police have. I learned that Wendy kept a journal.”

  “Yes, she did. But it’s not here.”

  “The police took it?”

  “No, she always had it with her.”

  “So it might have been with her the day she was killed, and the person who did it might have stolen it?”

  “I suppose that’s possible.”

  As the dog came over to Caprice now for an ear rub, Kevin nudged his brother, set the remote control aside, and wandered into the kitchen. “You’re talking about Wendy’s journal?” he asked.

  Sebastian eyed his son quizzically. “We are.”

  “She hid it somewhere.”

  “I don’t understand,” Sebastian said. “Why would she do that?”

  Kevin shrugged. “I think it was an old habit from when she was married. She didn’t keep it on her because her husband would search her and her things.”

  “I’d never do that.”

  “I know you wouldn’t, Dad. But Wendy was afraid of a lot of things, and having her privacy violated was one of them. She felt it was safer to hide the journal someplace else so we couldn’t stumble across it accidentally, I guess.”

  “Do you know where she hid it?”

  “Nope, that’s not something she’d tell anybody.”

  Caprice supposed the teenager was right. But then there was another matter to consider. “One of the women I spoke with told me Wendy kept information about the abusive husbands she came in contact with. She used that information for leverage.”

  “If she kept it on her computer,” Sebastian said, “the police took that.”

  “Get your geek on, Dad,” Cody scolded his father from the living room. “It’s information she needed and wanted and didn’t think anybody else should look at. She’s not going to keep it on her computer.”

  “He’s right,” Caprice agreed. “Lizbeth told me she didn’t keep it at work.”

  “Get my geek on? What does that mean?”

  Cody practically scowled. “You’ve been around me long enough to know how I operate. If I don’t want anybody to see something, I put it on a flash drive. Then I can hide that someplace safe. She probably put it the same place she keeps her journal.”

  “Do any of you have any idea where that might be?” Caprice asked.

  As Cody began to think about it, she could practically see the wheels turning in his head.

  He began eliminating possibilities. “Not at work. Not here. Someplace where nature can’t get to it, and no one else could either. But I’m blank right now.”

  “We’ll think about it,” Sebastian assured her. “If the boys and I put our heads together, maybe an idea will generate.”

  “One big puzzle,” Kevin murmured.

  Caprice discovered that’s exactly what solving a mystery was like—putting together a 5,000-piece jigsaw puzzle. She just hoped with everybody working on the same board, they could do it.

  Chapter Eight

  Caprice’s stop at Perky Paws on Tuesday morning was a strategic move. She needed time to think about what she was going to do next in collecting information, and the pet supply store was open earlier than the office of the man who could be the main suspect in Wendy’s murder. The front case at Perky Paws was always lined up with snacks that looked good enough for humans to eat. But they were for dogs with their peanut butter base, bacon and cheese biscuits, the yogurt topping. Some were as fancy as any wedding cookie. Others were to be gulped down with a snap of a finger. She always bought a few and had them on hand when Patches and Dylan came over. Lady received one on special occasions.

  After picking out a few that she knew they’d all enjoy, she had them boxed up and then told Gretta she needed to look for a few catnip-infused toys. Sunnybud, as well as her felines, would enjoy them.

  Since Gretta knew her family, Caprice told her, “Bella took in a stray cat. I thought he’d appreciate a few toys.”

  “Bella? She doesn’t like fur on her dresses, on her stockings, on her clothes, or on her sofa.”

  Caprice shrugged. “She seems to like this cat.”

  “What color is he?”

  “Yellow tabby.”

  “They can be beauties and sweet ones too. So you need a carrier?”

  “I had one that she’s using. If I know Bella, she’ll make a designer carrier for him.”

  “Maybe she could get into the business. There’s big bucks in pet clothes and pet toys.”

  “I don’t know if I even want to tell her that.”

  “Ace and his daughter were in here last weekend with Brindle.” Brindle was the name that Trista had given to Lady’s sister.

  “I haven’t seen Trista for a while. How’s she doing?”

  “She and that dog are like one. They’re inseparable.”

  “I can see they would be. Brindle’s probably Trista’s best friend. With her dad on the road again, visits not as frequent as she’d like, her mom with her own concerns, she probably tells Brindle all her thoughts and dreams.”

  “She does, and she buys her the cutest leashes and collars. And Ace buys the best food. You surely did him a favor getting him away from Detective Jones’s clutches when his fiancée was murdered.”

  “I knew Ace didn’t do it. I had to do everything I could to help.”

  “You helped your sister last time around. That’s five. I think I see a pattern. Are you changing your life’s work?”

  “Oh, no, nothing like that. Somehow I just get pulled in.”

  “Are you pulled into the latest? You knew Wendy Newcomb, didn’t you?”

  “I didn’t know her well, but I did know her. I was going to redecorate the Wyatt estate.”

  “Is that still happening?”

  “I surely hope so. I signed the contract. Tell me something. Do you know anything about her ex-husband?”

  “You mean that Rick Grossman who owns the Add-a-Room place?”

  “So you do know. I thought Wendy’s first marriage was kept hushed up.”

  “Hushed up is one thing. But when they were getting a divorce, he had a loud shouting match with her at the Koffee Klatch. Lots of witnesses. After the fact, that’s the kind of thing nobody wants to talk about.”

  “You say that was about the divorce?”

  “Rather about the settlement. Like many men, he didn’t want to give her her due. But I was there on my coffee break. I saw her take out this little blue book.”

  “Like a notebook?”

  “Sort of, maybe smaller than a notebook. It looked like it had a leather jacket, not a cardboard one. She opened it up and turned it around and showed him. He turned so red that I thought he was going to have a stroke. But then she grabbed it back, closed it, and put it in her inside jacket pocket. There wasn’t any more shouting after that.”

  “Wow. Have you ever been to his store?”

  “Nope, no need to do that. We don’t have any place to add a room onto.”

  Their conversation ended, Caprice wandered to the aisle with the cat toys. Then she pulled her phone from her pocket, playing a hunch. Usually a man like Rick Grossman was a control freak. So better to let him have some control at the beginning.

  She searched for his Web site to find his phone number, then called his store. A receptionist answered. Caprice asked if she could make an appointment for this morning. The receptionist didn’t hesitate, probably because she thought Caprice wanted to buy a room. They set up the appointment for nine-thirty, as soon as she finished here.

  After a few pointed questions for Mr. Grossman, maybe she could figure out if the man had the temperament to
commit murder.

  As Caprice drove south of York to Loganville where Grossman Rooms and Stoves was located—apparently they sold and installed wood stoves, too—Caprice phoned Grant and left him a message. She told him where she was going to be, just in case. He’d asked her to depend on him, and she would. He would be her safeguard as she tried to unravel some of the circumstances surrounding Wendy Newcomb. Maybe after her meeting with Wendy’s ex-husband, she’d stop at Brown’s Orchards and pick up vegetables and fruit. The store had so many varieties of apples this time of year. It teemed with fresh produce, baked goods, and even a wine room. Maybe she should surprise her brother and take him a bottle from Logan’s View Winery for a change.

  She kept her mind on the task before her as she pulled into Grossman’s stand-alone building with its parking lot. When she opened the door to enter the business, a bell dinged and the receptionist sitting behind an L-shaped oak desk looked up and smiled. “Can I help you?”

  “I’m Caprice De Luca. I have an appointment.”

  The receptionist pressed a button, announced into the intercom, “Your appointment’s here,” and went back to her computer. A few seconds later, a tall, thin man with sandy blond hair, a beakish nose, and a friendly smile emerged from an office.

  He held his hand out to Caprice. “I’m Rick Grossman. You’re interested in an Add-a-Room?”

  Caprice didn’t know what she’d expected, a monster with two heads? No, that was just the point. From what she’d been reading, an abusive husband could be charming, solicitous, and more than friendly in many situations. It was when his buttons got pushed he turned into someone else. Did Caprice want to push this man’s buttons?

  Caprice had thought about her answer to his question, and she’d decided that in the future she might want to add a room to the back of her house. She had plenty of yard there. It wouldn’t hurt to visualize it and talk to this man about it. She couldn’t just plunge into pointed questions.

  “I have been thinking about adding a room. My neighbor has a sunroom and in the winter, she enjoys sitting in there.”

  Rick said, “We like to call them all-seasons rooms. They do warm up a house in the winter. You could even put a wood stove in one, or a space heater to make it especially toasty as well as bright. Do you want to come into my office to talk about it?”