She said, “I’m going to sit with Sebastian and his boys.”
Brett gave her a probing look. “Be careful.”
“I will.”
And she would be. More careful than she’d been in the past.
Chapter Nine
Since so many people had come to pay their respects to Wendy, Sebastian hadn’t given an open invitation to everyone to come back to his house afterward. But word had gotten around to those closest to him and the boys. He’d hired Nikki to cater the reception and she’d kept it simple. She’d made crab ball and ham puff hors d’oeuvres, was serving chicken rice soup and hot cider to ward off the chill, then added a selection of deli meats, broccoli salad, and macaroni salad. She’d kept dessert simple, too—a sheet cake of chocolate with peanut butter icing and a yellow cake topped with a fluffy white icing.
Rena seemed to be helping everyone connect. Sebastian looked lost as he migrated from one person to another. Caprice caught bits of conversations, then realized Kevin and Cody were spending most of their time with their neighbors. Cody was assuring one gentleman he’d help ready his garden for winter. Kevin was speaking to a boy his own age about homeschooling. Apparently his friend Jeremy didn’t attend public school but followed a syllabus for an online school. The trend of the future? Caprice imagined that would work only for parents and kids who were self-starters and motivated.
Crossing to the kitchen for a mug of hot cider, Caprice spotted Nikki filling the meat tray. “Everything looks great.”
“Sebastian told me he didn’t want anything out of the ordinary because people really didn’t care about food at something like this. And if you notice, everyone’s eating kind of absently. They’re too busy sharing memories.”
A woman who had been standing nearby scooping broccoli salad onto a plate smiled at Caprice. She asked, “Did you know Wendy well?”
“We were acquaintances, not friends,” Caprice said honestly. “But I was going to be working with her more closely, helping her with the Wyatt estate.”
The woman nodded, set down her plate, and extended her hand. “I’m Penny Claussen, a neighbor of Wendy and Sebastian’s.”
Caprice had been wanting to talk to some of Sebastian’s neighbors, and here was her chance to learn more about the neighborhood and Wendy’s relationship to it.
Nikki moved away to give them privacy and Caprice was grateful for that.
“I really hadn’t heard much about co-housing developments until I talked with Wendy and Sebastian,” Caprice admitted.
“It’s a way of life reminiscent of bygone years,” Penny explained. “Families weren’t as mobile then and they lived nearby and helped each other. Of course, in the sixties there were communes, but this is a practical way of looking at life.”
“How long have you lived here?”
“Four years now. I owe being happy here to Wendy.”
Aha. The chance she’d been waiting for to find out more about women Wendy helped. “How so?”
“She connected me with another single mom. I couldn’t afford a security deposit and rent to get out of my situation, and Wendy hooked me up with Carly, who I live with. We both have little girls. We both have jobs that we like but don’t cover enough expenses. So living together and splitting household fees as well as food costs and sometimes even gas give us both a leg up.”
“You say you’re renting your house? Who owns it?”
“Why, Sebastian does.” She lowered her voice. “Apparently he was a bigwig architect in Chicago. He made really good investments. When his wife died, he wanted to move somewhere safe and wholesome and have a different kind of life for himself and the boys. So he invested in this community. That’s what it is—a community within the larger community. I think he pulled in another investor who believes in this kind of concept, but he’s a silent partner.”
That was news.
“I wonder how Sebastian chose this area,” Caprice mused.
“Something about him spending time in Pennsylvania with an aunt on a farm in Lancaster County. Maybe the Amish way of life gave him the whole concept. He put a real estate agent on it and this is what they came up with.”
“Do you know how he and Wendy met? I’ve never heard that story.”
“They met at a local charity event. They were seated next to each other at dinner. Just one of those fate kind of things. It’s a shame they didn’t marry.”
“I suppose marriage isn’t for everyone.”
“Sebastian kept hoping,” Penny said in that low voice again. “But Wendy had sworn she’d never marry again. Lately, though, I wondered if Wendy was seeing someone else.”
“Really? She and Sebastian seemed so connected.”
“You never know what really goes on in somebody’s relationship. She was staying at the shelter overnight many nights. I noticed because her car wasn’t in the carport by the time I went to bed . . . or in the morning when I left for work.”
“That doesn’t mean she was seeing someone else.”
“Maybe, maybe not. But Sebastian has just seemed different lately, like he has something on his mind.”
“What do you mean by lately?”
“The past few weeks. We neighbors see each other often, so we can tell mood shifts or when changes are coming. After all, one person’s troubles can affect the whole community. Sebastian has just been . . . off-kilter.”
Wasn’t that interesting? If Wendy was having an affair, had Sebastian known about it? Had there been signs? He seemed to be an easygoing guy, but if neighbors had noticed a difference in him—
Still waters did run deep. Could Sebastian have had a reason for killing his significant other? That was hard to believe. Nevertheless, Caprice had been surprised by killers before.
Kevin came into the kitchen then and Caprice’s conversation with Penny stopped. He went straight for the chocolate cake.
Taking the biggest slice set out on one of the plates, he took a fork and cut off a bite, popping it into his mouth. “This is really good,” he managed to say around the icing.
Caprice motioned to Nikki, who was standing at the sink. “My sister baked it.”
“I liked the coconut cake you brought too. I don’t get cake much,” he admitted. “Wendy was only into healthy food. She wouldn’t bring sweets into the house.”
Caprice picked up a slice of cake of her own but much smaller than his. “Do you want to sit somewhere and eat?”
“Can we go outside?” he asked. “It’s getting too crowded in here.”
The end-of-September day had warmed up with Indian summer sunshine. “Sure, let’s go out on the porch.”
Caprice knew crowds could give a claustrophobic feeling, especially at something like this. Kevin seemed like he needed a break from condolences and sympathetic glances.
They exited out the front door and crossed to two caned rockers that had a small, round table positioned between them on the porch. There was a breeze, but Caprice ignored it for the sake of conversation with this boy who seemed to need it.
“If you don’t eat many sweets, that cake could give you a sugar high.” She popped a bite of her own cake into her mouth. Nikki’s chocolate cakes certainly were luscious.
“A sugar high is the only kind of high I’m ever going to get, so I might as well take advantage of it,” Kevin told her.
“That’s good to hear.”
The teenager rolled his eyes. “My clean-cut way of life doesn’t make me a hit at school.”
“But if you really believe in a clean-cut way of life, it seems to me you’d only want friends around you who believed in it too.”
He groaned. “You sound like my dad.”
Caprice laughed. “Maybe we’re both just speaking from experience. I followed the beat of my own drummer in school and wasn’t that popular. But the friends I did make were good friends. I could rely on them.”
He forked up another bite of cake. “I have a couple of good friends I can rely on, and there’s always Cody,”
he said with a shrug.
“My sisters are my best friends.”
“I can’t say that. Cody thinks he knows everything about everything.”
“I have one of those kinds of sisters.”
Kevin finished his cake and gave Caprice a sideways look. “I don’t really mind not having sweets all that much. I mean, Wendy made other stuff to make up for it, or she’d bring home something unusual to try and tell us to taste the spices because they were better than sugar.”
“You’re going to miss her.”
Looking away, Kevin swallowed hard, and Caprice suspected he was fighting tears. But it was important that he let himself feel.
After a minute or so, his voice was husky when he said, “I’ll miss our bike rides.”
Giving him time to recover, Caprice explained, “I haven’t ridden a bicycle in years. I don’t even know if I remember how.”
“Oh, you’d remember. It’s true you never forget how to ride a bike. Wendy said so too.”
“Did you ride around the neighborhood?”
“Oh, no. When we rode we’d go at least five miles at a time. We rode a lot around that old Wyatt place.”
“The one Sunrise Tomorrow inherited?”
Caprice had realized that as the crow flew, the Wyatt estate wasn’t all that far from here. Still, she remembered the wrought-iron fence that surrounded the property. “There’s a fence around that yard and quite a hill leading up to it.”
“There is,” he admitted. “But we rode into the back. The gate’s kind of falling apart back there so we could ride around inside too. There’s all kinds of cool statues back there. There’s a shrine to Saint Antonio de Padua. Wendy told me if I ever lose anything, I should go to the shrine to pray to him and he’ll help me find it.”
Caprice’s nana believed strongly in Saint Anthony’s help, and Saint Francis’s help. Other saints too. But they were the two most popular.
“So have you ever done that?” Caprice asked. “Prayed to Saint Anthony?”
Looking sheepish, Kevin nodded. “When I lost my phone, I did. It turns out it had slipped out of my pocket down the car seat. My dad found it two days later, so I guess the prayer helped.”
“My nana taught me that saying prayers to Saint Anthony for finding things works.”
Kevin cocked his head. “Do you really believe that stuff?”
“Actually, I do. Not just because I was raised with it, but because prayers and wishes and affirmations are all positive energy. It certainly can’t hurt to send that out into the universe even if you don’t believe in a direct prayer to a saint who might intervene for you with God. There’s a lot of different ways to look at it.”
“Wendy used to tell me that too.”
“It sounds like you learned a lot of good things from Wendy, things you can hold on to for a long time.”
After Kevin set his plate on the table between them, he stared out into the yard at the leaves on the trees in the distance. “I wish she was still here. I wish . . . I wish we had a chance to go on another bike ride.”
There really weren’t any words to help Kevin with his grief, so Caprice just sat with him, letting the breeze toss around his memories, letting him come to terms with the reality he had to live with now.
Caprice sat with Kevin until he said, “I’d better go back in. I don’t want Dad to worry that I ran off somewhere. Since Wendy died, he worries about every little thing. He hardly lets me and Cody out of his sight.”
“He doesn’t want anything to happen to you.”
“Maybe when Wendy’s killer’s caught, he’ll feel better. I sure hope so. Are you coming back in?”
“In a few minutes. Go ahead.”
Caprice was thinking about everything Kevin had said when a voice from the other side of the porch startled her.
“It’s a nice thing you did, talking to him like that.”
She didn’t know where the man had come from, maybe from the other side of the porch, or maybe from in the yard. She recognized him from the funeral home. Kevin had pointed him out as Wendy’s father. He wasn’t a tall man, perhaps five-ten, who looked to be in his late fifties or early sixties and was wearing an expensive suit. The black pin-striped jacket fit him impeccably well.
He came close to her and extended his hand. “I’m Daniel Newcomb, Wendy’s father.”
“Mr. Newcomb, I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Everyone is,” he said with a frown. “I wish that helped. I came out here for fresh air before you and Kevin did. Those boys need someone to talk to, and when Kevin started in with you, I didn’t want to interrupt.”
“Do you spend much time with Kevin and Cody?”
“I was in the habit of visiting Wendy every couple of months, and I’d stay overnight. She drove to Delaware when she could, and sometimes Sebastian and the boys came with her.”
“Are you going to stay in touch with them?”
“I’d like to. But that depends on Sebastian. At a time like this, I wish I’d had ten kids. Not that losing one would be any easier, but the other nine might fill in the void a little. I was waiting for Wendy and Sebastian to get married, maybe give me a grandchild.” His voice cracked and he stopped.
“One of Wendy’s friends told me she said she’d never get married again,” Caprice offered.
“I suppose that was true. That girl never did back down—not from a fight and not from her own determination. It was a strength, but it was a fault too. That made it impossible to undo something she put into motion.” After a pause, he said, “I heard you tell Kevin you have sisters.”
“And a brother. I’d do anything for them.”
“That’s the way it should be. But that’s the same attitude Wendy had toward the women she helped. She would do anything for them.”
“Anything, Mr. Newcomb? I’m thinking maybe that’s what got her killed.”
His jaw hardened before he nodded. “That’s quite possible. She couldn’t always follow the letter of the law. She had to skirt around the edges now and then.”
“Have you talked with the detectives on the case?”
“I have, though that Detective Jones rubs me the wrong way. The Carstead fellow seemed to understand better. He knew about the protective orders and the way Wendy found living accommodations for women who needed them.”
Caprice took a chance on discovering a little more. She lowered her voice, even though no one was in earshot. “I heard that she helped spirit women away who had no other alternative.”
Newcomb’s brow creased as he studied her. “I didn’t go into that with the detectives.”
“Do you think you should have?”
Newcomb had an authoritarian look about him, and was obviously used to running his own show, which included his financial services firm. Caprice could tell he was about to get all blustery, so she added, “There’s nothing on the books with names, no suspects for the police to look at. How are they going to catch Wendy’s killer?”
Newcomb shook his head. “I don’t know names. I don’t know any specific information. Do you honestly think Wendy would give me that? Sure, I did favors for her. I know people who can create new identities, if that’s what you’re asking about. But Wendy would just pass on vital statistics to me, and I would relay the information. In return, with the right amount of money, I’d receive a packet ready to go. That packet would contain a social security number, a driver’s license, a passport. Could be all three. Wendy only did that for the most severe cases, for women in danger for their lives.”
“Women who had children?”
“Now and then.”
“Are you sure you shouldn’t tell the detectives about that?”
“Are you going to?” he returned, seriously.
“I already hinted at it with Detective Carstead. If they go down that road, they might come looking for you.”
“Let them look for me. I’ll help them however I can, except, of course, I won’t give up the name of my source for
the work he does for me.”
“I suspect whoever killed Wendy was somebody she wasn’t afraid of.”
“My girl had learned not to be afraid of much, so I don’t know how far that theory will get you. If an angry man on a dark street confronted her, she knew self-defense and knew it well. She even had a carry permit for a Lady Remington.”
“Did she always carry it?”
“She kept it locked up in the house, I know that. Sebastian has a safe. But when she went to that shelter, yes, she carried it. So I suspect she also carried it on errands, especially at night.”
A gun. If Wendy had a gun and her life was in danger, she would have had to get to it. On the other hand, if she met with someone she didn’t suspect would hurt her, she hadn’t seen the attack coming. Premeditated? Or had anger gotten out of control and blown up in a few minutes?
A car pulling into the driveway had both Caprice and Wendy’s dad looking that way. Lizbeth climbed out of the Acura and hurriedly started up the front walk.
Wendy’s father said, “I’d better get back in. I’ll be leaving later today and I want to spend as much time as I can with Sebastian and the boys.”
Caprice nodded and said, “It was good to meet you.” He said the same and went inside.
Seconds later, Lizbeth was on the porch. She was wearing a tailored black suit and heels and looked flustered. That seemed to be her ongoing state these days. Caprice had seen her leave the memorial service early and had wondered why. Now she was about an hour late getting to the reception.
Lizbeth said, “I almost wish it was after five and I could have something strong to drink.”
“What’s wrong? I saw you leave the service.”
“It couldn’t be helped. I had a meeting with the lawyer who’d settled the Wyatt estate.”
“Who is it?”
“Mr. Silver. He’s in York and I had to drive there and back.”
“Is there anything that’s going to be a roadblock in getting the transition facility ready?”
“I sincerely hope not. I had to sign so many papers I feel dizzy. As acting director, Wendy signed your proposal for redecorating. I just had to approve it. Another month on the renovations should do it, and then you can really get started.”
Shades of Wrath Page 12
