Shades of Wrath

by Karen Rose Smith

  After a hug and a kiss from her mom, she made her way through the dining room, turned right into the kitchen, then through to the eat-in area. There she found not only her dad, but Chief Powalski and three other friends of her dad’s . . . along with a beautiful white Malamute.

  “Hi, honey. You’re leaving for Baltimore?” her dad asked.

  “After I tell you if you have a winning hand or not.”

  Her father chuckled and motioned to the man beside him. “You know Chris Merriweather . . . and Blitz.”

  The chief said, “He’s hard to recognize without his white beard and wire-rimmed glasses.”

  Caprice grinned as she remembered Chris Merriweather’s twinkling blue eyes. “You play Santa Claus in that little cabin they bring into the community park. And Blitz is your loyal sidekick.”

  Chris nodded solemnly. “That’s us.”

  “You’ve been playing Santa for a long while.”

  “I have for the past decade.”

  “I brought Megan and Timmy in to see you for the past three.”

  “Yes, you have. Your sister Bella doesn’t want them to think she overhears when they tell me what they want. The truth is, I think this is Timmy’s last year believing. He just pretended to believe last year for his mom’s sake.”

  “That’s probably true.”

  Her father went on to introduce the other two men at the table. He said to them, “She’s pretty good at poker. She can bluff with the best of them. She does have a few tells, though.”

  Mac joked, “But we won’t let on what they are.” He said to Caprice, “So tell me the scoop on Brett Carstead and your sister Nikki.”

  “Scoop? I should be getting that from you. What does Brett tell you?”

  “You are joking, right? That man is as tight-lipped about his personal life as he is about the investigation he runs. He’s a good man. He just doesn’t open up much.”

  “I know nothing. Honestly, I don’t. I do know Brett had to break a date because of the Newcomb investigation.”

  “And I know you’re asking questions about Wendy Newcomb.”

  Because she didn’t need another warning, she adroitly reminded him, “I won’t be asking any questions for the next four days. I’m going to be too busy to think. You can watch me every night on TV and see my progress.”

  “You want me to watch some decorating show?” The chief sounded horrified at that idea.

  “You don’t have to watch a decorating show. All you have to do is look at all three houses and decide which one you like best . . . which one you’d like to live in. Of course, you’re going to like mine best and vote for that one on Thursday night.”

  Her father punched Mac in the arm. “You can come over here. We’ll watch together and then I can make sure you vote for Caprice.”

  “I’ll see what else I have on my schedule that night,” the chief responded sagely. Then he said to Caprice, “I just took a few hours tonight to get away from the investigation so I can go back to it with a clear head. I can understand why Brett broke his date with Nikki—I heard him call her. I hope she’s not too upset about that. We’ve all been up to our eyeballs with interviews. I think Brett even slept in his office the last couple of nights. He’s taking the lead on this one, and he’s meticulous.”

  “Any headway? I know you can’t tell me specifics, but do you have a suspect list?”

  “We have more suspects than we can count. This one’s a puzzle that’s going to take quite a bit of sorting out, let alone leg work and running down the leads.”

  “I’ll share with Brett anything I learn and he knows it.”

  “You do have a knack for pulling information out of people. It must be the way you seem to care about them.”

  Her dad interjected, “She doesn’t seem to care, she does care.”

  The chief pointed his finger at her. “Don’t care too much.”

  She knew what he meant. She wouldn’t be impulsive. She wouldn’t be reckless. And for the next week, she was going to keep her mind on decorating a house and winning the competition.

  Chapter Twelve

  Tuesday, the first day of the house competition, had flown on by. From the moment Caprice had seen the ranch-style model homes this morning through the initial taping, she’d been thoroughly excited with adrenaline shooting through her. She had set a budget, deadlines, and a plan for winning.

  All of the competitors had access to three local furniture stores that would be supplying furniture and getting plenty of advertisement for their efforts. Each designer also had access to a handyman to help with painting and anything else that was necessary. This wasn’t a renovating project, but rather a decorating one.

  Still, accents could be added that would enhance the whole look, and that’s what Caprice was intent on doing. She didn’t know what the other competitors would come up with as themes for their model homes, but she had settled on hers. “Flair for Wood” was her theme and, in addition, she’d develop a color scheme. But the richness and warmth of wood would make her house stand out—from the furniture to crown molding to a chair rail. The question was—could she accomplish all of it by the deadline of Thursday at five? The Thursday and Friday night segments would be live.

  She wasn’t thrilled by live TV, especially after a day of frazzled working to decorate the house. But hair and makeup wasn’t usually a concern of hers. She wouldn’t make it a concern now. Her vintage bell-bottoms and tie-dyed T-shirt would just have to make a statement of their own.

  She stopped at one of her favorite burger places on the way back to her motel. She’d have a salad tomorrow for lunch to make up for the Five Guys burger and fries that were hand-cut on the premises. Taking the delicious-smelling bag of food to her motel room, she was sitting on the bed cross-legged, dipping a warm fry into ketchup, when her cell phone played. She’d laid it on the nightstand next to her.

  Wiping her hand on a napkin, she picked up the phone and blinked. Caller ID said it was Seth Randolph’s number! She’d dated the handsome doctor until last spring when she decided Grant was the man who owned her heart. Seth’s career choices were driving his life decisions and Caprice had known she’d never come first. Seth’s love of medicine would. When he’d e-mailed her this summer to tell her he was extending his stay in Baltimore past his fellowship, she’d e-mailed back that he should keep her informed. After all, she’d liked Seth and wanted to keep him as a friend. Was that possible when they’d been romantically involved?

  She answered the call just before it would have gone to voice mail. “This is a surprise.”

  “A welcome one, I hope,” he said smoothly. “When I saw you on TV tonight, I couldn’t believe it.”

  “Believe it. I could win a contract to decorate model homes. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.”

  “It looks as if you have your work cut out for you in three days.”

  So he had actually watched the whole segment when the competition had been explained as well as the designers introduced. “You know me—go with the flow. I just have to make sure I don’t sink.”

  “You’ll do great. I wondered if while you’re in the area you’d like to meet for coffee or a drink? We can catch up.”

  “Do you have time for that?” As a doctor with a specialty in trauma medicine, he was constantly busy without much time to even grab a bite to eat let alone sleep.

  “I’m on a rotating schedule right now—three days on, two off. Thursday I’m off.”

  “I’m tied up until at least eight on Thursday with the live show and taping afterward.”

  “Where are you staying?”

  She told him and then added, “There’s a coffee shop here.”

  “I can meet you at the coffee shop Thursday night if you won’t be too tired. I’ll buy you supper.”

  She and Seth really hadn’t had closure. She’d made her decision about Grant and she’d told Seth what she’d decided. He’d left the family gathering afterward and they hadn’t really talked since.
Just as Grant had needed closure with his ex-wife Naomi, she needed it with Seth.

  “I won’t be too tired. And I have to eat.”

  He chuckled. “All right. I’ll meet you at the coffee shop at your motel about nine on Thursday for a late supper.”

  “That sounds good. If I’m going to be held up, I’ll text you.”

  “I’ll see you Thursday night, Caprice. I’m looking forward to it.”

  After she ended the call, she stared at the phone. Should she tell Grant about the meeting?

  She would tell him. But maybe not until after she saw Seth. She wanted to find out what he wanted. Then she’d tell Grant all about it.

  * * *

  When Caprice entered the coffee shop on Thursday evening, she caught sight of Seth right away. There were only a few people in the small restaurant and Seth would have stood out anywhere, with his blond hair, blue eyes, and handsome face. He was wearing khakis and a cream Oxford shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His wardrobe choices hadn’t changed. Had he?

  Caprice was grateful to see and feel that her heart hadn’t sped up when she’d spotted him. No pitty-pat anymore for Seth Randolph. All of that romantic anticipation and excitement was aimed toward Grant now. She did wish, however, that she’d told Grant about this meeting. She hadn’t wanted to cause him worry or any anxiety, but they’d promised to be completely honest with each other. Would he think she’d hidden this meeting because she still had feelings for Seth?

  Too late to worry now. It all depended on how much Grant trusted her.

  Seth stood when he saw her. As a De Luca, it was natural for her to give him a hug. It was a quick hug, just one of those kinds a family member gives another family member.

  He motioned her to the booth seat across from him and she slid in. He sat too.

  “You look terrific,” he said.

  She didn’t know how true that was. It had been a long day and she might even have a couple of splatters of paint in her hair. She’d worn her red bell-bottom jeans and a Bohemian-style top with a lacy red and blue swirled bodice that was crocheted across the shoulder line.

  “You’re too kind. I probably have sanding dust in my hair. The crown molding arrived today and I was helping to saw it as well as paint it.”

  “You use power tools?”

  “All part of the expertise,” she said with a shrug. “I’m glad my dad taught me how.”

  “How is your family?”

  Just then the waitress came over to take their order. Caprice ordered coffee, a turkey club, and a tossed salad. She had to get those salads in. Seth ordered the mushroom-bacon cheeseburger and coffee.

  After the waitress returned to the kitchen window with their order, Caprice answered his question. “My family is good. Bella and Joe bought a house they seem to be enjoying. Nikki has gone on a few dates with Brett Carstead.”

  “The detective?”

  Caprice nodded.

  “How did that happen?”

  That launched Caprice into an account of the last murder she’d been involved in and an explanation of how Nikki had been a suspect. That’s when her sister and Brett had “noticed” each other.

  “And how are you?” Seth asked, gazing straight into her eyes.

  “Busy.”

  “Are you happy?”

  Is that what this get-together was all about? Finding out if she’d made the right choice? “I am happy. Grant and I are dating.”

  “Getting serious?”

  “I hope so. At least I am.”

  Seth nodded. “You made the right decision. Not that I didn’t care about you. But you were right—I’m not ready to settle down. I guess I wanted to see you to tell you I’d always care about you because above everything else, we had a really good friendship. I’m taking a position in Chicago at a trauma center. I’m starting out on the night shift, which will really turn life upside-down. But it will be a good experience.”

  “You sound as if you might not stay there.”

  “I’m not sure Chicago is where I ultimately want to end up. I’ve always wanted to live on a houseboat in Seattle.”

  “You never mentioned that before.”

  “Maybe I thought that would chase you away.”

  “Because I’m such a small-town girl?” she asked wryly.

  “No, because you want to stay close to your family. You need a guy who wants to do that, too, and I think you found him.”

  Studying Seth, knowing how he cared about his patients, she asked, “And what about you? Are you ever going to have time for love in your life?”

  “I don’t know. I either need the kind of woman who will sit at home waiting for the time we can spend together, or the type of woman who wants to be on the move as much as I do and we can grab time whenever we can.”

  Meaning it sincerely, she offered, “I can visualize both for you and maybe one will turn up.”

  He laughed. “And just how do you visualize? I’ve never asked you that before.”

  “Lots of ways. Promise not to laugh.”

  “I won’t,” he swore solemnly.

  “Nana believes strongly in saying the Rosary. It’s a great meditative tool. I keep one by my bedside and fall asleep some nights saying Hail Marys. Other times, I say the Rosary, but on each decade I imagine a picture of the person I’m saying it for and wish the best for them.”

  “I would never laugh at that.” He reached over and patted her hand. “You’re a special woman, Caprice De Luca. I hope Grant appreciates what he has. If he doesn’t, call me and I’ll give him what for.”

  “I guess this is the last time I’ll see you for maybe years.” That thought made her a little sad.

  “Face-to-face, anyway. And that’s probably the way it should be.”

  “I’m glad you called me to catch up.” It was good to see him again. Finally, she felt as if the “Seth” part of her life had come to a satisfying conclusion.

  The waitress brought their orders then. While they ate, they talked about Seth’s work and a few of the houses she’d staged. A half hour later, he was standing to leave. She gave him another quick hug and then watched him walk out of the restaurant.

  She didn’t go to her room, however; she sat back down in the booth and pulled out her cell phone. She wasn’t going to wait another second to tell Grant about this meeting.

  To her disappointment, she reached his voice mail. Her conscience needed purging, so she left him a message.

  I just wanted to tell you I had coffee and a sandwich with Seth. He called me because he wanted to catch up. He’s leaving for Chicago soon. I wish I had told you before I had coffee and a sandwich. Nothing to worry about. We said good-bye. I hope I’ll see you here for the final results. I’ll text you the address again. I’ve missed you.

  She wanted to tell him she loved him, but not in a voice mail. So she ended the call. She just hoped he’d understand why she’d had to see Seth, why catching up and putting a final dot on their relationship had been good for them both.

  * * *

  Until Friday night rolled around, Caprice was more nervous than she ever thought she could be. She wasn’t nervous about whether she’d won or lost. She was concerned about what Grant was thinking. She’d gotten a text this morning around seven a.m. just as she’d gotten to the model home and into the thrust of the final taping instructions. His text had said: Didn’t know charge was out on phone. Got your message this morning. Will talk tonight.

  Grant wasn’t the type to add a heart or smiley face, so she had no idea what he was feeling or thinking. A live segment with all three completed homes in The Model Home Challenge had been shown last night. The TV population had voted until midnight. This evening at seven, they’d all receive the results of those votes. The model homes would be spotlighted again as the winner was announced.

  Would Grant be here? Would he come with her family? He said they would talk. Maybe he meant after she got home. Maybe he was seriously upset about her late supper with Seth.

&nbs
p; Caprice remembered her own advice to Bella when she’d made a coffee date with an old flame and hadn’t told Joe. The thing was, Bella’s marriage had been in trouble and the coffee date had been a way to let steam out of the pressure cooker. Bella had intended to flirt and have a good time. Caprice hadn’t flirted with Seth. She’d just enjoyed his company. Their situations were very different.

  But would Grant see them differently?

  Whether Caprice won or not, her house would be seen by scads of people, not only on TV tonight, but at an open house this weekend. With all the publicity and advertising, house hunters might line up to tour the homes. A sale could be imminent for any one of them or all of them.

  Since the night weather had turned chilly, she’d brought along a dark turquoise Jacqueline Kennedy–style dress, a sheath with a matching coat trimmed in black with black frog fasteners. Keeping in style with the coat, she wore a pillbox hat also in turquoise with black trim. She knew her sister Bella would say that she looked like an escapee from the sixties. She believed you could sometimes look fashion forward by going back. Her black kitten heels would make it easy for her to do interviews and walk quickly from here to there. But her hands were shaking a little as she waited to get started.

  When she checked her watch, she saw that it was six-fifty. At seven o’clock, the live show began. Crossing to her mark at the black tape in front of the model home she’d decorated, she was almost blinded by the floodlights. She couldn’t see far beyond them.

  Then out of that duskiness beyond the lights she heard a familiar voice yell, “You go, Caprice. You’re going to win this.”

  She had to laugh. That was her sister Bella’s voice. She’d know it anywhere.

  “You bring home that trophy, sis.” That was Nikki. Her clear, clean voice could cut through a crowd.

  Then she heard guys cheer. “Go, Caprice, go.” She couldn’t separate out the voices, but she thought they belonged to Vince, her dad, and maybe Grant? She so hoped Grant had come along.

  At the opening of the segment, the cameras followed the first competitor, June Walters, into the first house as June took them on a quick tour and explained about her decorating scheme. As the cameras disappeared into that house, Caprice caught a glimpse of her family just beyond the crowd-control barricade. Grant was with them. But he was too far away to make eye contact and she couldn’t tell if he was smiling.