Shades of Wrath

by Karen Rose Smith

  After the breathing exercises, Evelyn brought them to a standing position and began with the Mountain Pose.

  The sleet that had been pinging gently against the windows now took on a different rhythm. The sound was harsher, louder, more of a rat-tat-tat. The two women who had been there before Caprice glanced at each other. Mary and Janet were probably in their fifties.

  After they exchanged a look and nodded toward the door, Mary spoke up. “Evelyn, we hate to cut the class short, but I don’t like driving in this. Janet and I came together, and I have to take her home. So I think we’d better leave.”

  “All right,” Evelyn agreed amiably. “I certainly understand. But please, when you step outside, take about ten deep breaths and try to remain calm. If you tense up behind the wheel, you’re more likely to have less control. And remember, if the road’s too slippery, pull over and wait until a truck comes along to treat the road.”

  Mary and Janet stepped off their mats, rolled them up, and placed them in the back of the room. Then they took their coats from the rack and waved their good-byes.

  Evelyn looked at Caprice. “What about you? Do you want to finish?”

  “The way I see it, the roads could be worse now than if I wait a little bit. The weatherman says this precipitation could turn to rain. If it does that, the roads will be safer then. If it doesn’t, and it’s a sheet of ice out there, I’ll call my fiancé.”

  “Good thinking,” Evelyn agreed with a nod. “How about if we do stretches specifically for neck and shoulders. I imagine with headaches, the base of your neck would be all tense, right?”

  “It’s tight,” Caprice admitted.

  “Okay, we’ll loosen it up and then maybe your fiancé can give you a massage.”

  The idea of Grant massaging her shoulders made Caprice tingly all over. The idea of it also made her long to be at home in front of the fire with Grant and their pets.

  Evelyn was wearing a semi-fitted, short white crop top with sleeves. Her tan yoga pants settled at her waist. Her yoga socks had individual toes. “So many of the poses to stretch the neck and shoulders are done on the floor, but I think it’s better if you stand in an upright position. So just follow my movements, okay?”

  Caprice did just that. She stretched out her arms perpendicular to her body, palms down, as Evelyn did. Evelyn advised her on an exhalation to clasp her hands and turn her head to the left, then breathe in, do the same, and turn her head to the right.

  “How does that feel?” she asked.

  “It feels good,” Caprice said.

  Evelyn then had her take three relaxing breaths and push her shoulder blades together while clasping her hands behind her. She held the pose and breathed smoothly for about forty-five seconds, then released her hands and dropped her arms to her sides. Next, she wrapped her right arm around herself to the left and the left arm around herself to the right. Instructing her, Evelyn suggested she crawl her fingers as far as she could across her back until she felt the stretch in both arms. Again she was to hold the pose for thirty to forty-five seconds and imagine each inhale of breath bringing fresh energy to every part of her body, especially her neck and shoulders. With each exhalation, she stretched more into the pose.

  Next Evelyn had Caprice reach above her head as high as she could and Evelyn did the same. As Evelyn reached up, Caprice gave a small gasp.

  There was a tattoo on Evelyn’s left side at the waist—a purple butterfly. It was the same purple butterfly that was on the coin Caprice had found in Sebastian’s driveway.

  Evelyn’s gaze met Caprice’s.

  Caprice said, “That muscle is more sore than I thought.” She deluded herself into believing the yoga teacher bought her explanation for her gasp until Caprice’s phone played from her pocket.

  Evelyn’s gaze again met hers.

  For the session, Caprice was supposed to have left her phone in her car. Thank goodness, she’d forgotten to do that. She said, “Grant’s probably worried about me. I’d better get it.”

  As she reached for the phone, she saw the caller wasn’t Grant. It was Brett. She quickly took the call, keeping her face neutral.

  Brett said, “I’ve seen a report about the thumb drive. Evelyn Miller was charged with domestic abuse before she came to Kismet. I know you’re taking yoga. You need to stay away from her.”

  “I’m at Green Tea now. Sure, I’d love it if you pick me up.”

  As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Evelyn pounced on her and Caprice fell to the mat on the floor with a thump. Caprice tried to push her off, but Evelyn was strong and her hands aimed for Caprice’s neck.

  This is ironic, Caprice thought, when Evelyn had just helped her stretch it.

  “I can strangle you and leave before anybody gets here. Wendy got in my way, and I won’t let you do the same.”

  Caprice struggled to break free . . . batted at Evelyn’s hands . . . trying to push them away from her collarbone.

  “The police are on to you,” she gasped. “They know you were charged with domestic abuse before you came to Kismet.”

  Evelyn’s hands surrounded her neck now, but Caprice kept moving from side to side, turning her head, keeping some space there.

  “Did Wendy find out about it?” Caprice asked, guessing, trying to keep Evelyn distracted so she could break away.

  “She did,” Evelyn grunted. “And she ended my contract. She did a background check on me when I asked her to invest in the yoga studio. She was going to ruin me.”

  Evelyn was sitting on Caprice’s chest now, pressing down. “But I was going to blackmail her by telling how she interfered in a custody case, helping a mother and her child disappear. I know where they are.”

  There was something in the way Evelyn spoke that told Caprice the woman thought she had the upper hand. Maybe she was on top, but not for long.

  Remembering a self-defense maneuver she’d been taught, Caprice brought her knees up and Evelyn lunged forward. When she did, her hold broke a little. Caprice used her elbow to jab Evelyn in the kidney . . . hard.

  Suddenly Grant burst in the door.

  Sirens blared outside now.

  Grant didn’t ask any questions, just tackled Evelyn as if she were a football player in the wrong place at the wrong time. He managed to push her onto the floor on her stomach and yanked her arms behind her.

  Two officers rushed in then, along with Brett Carstead. As the three of them subdued Evelyn, who was spitting mad, cursing, and trying to break free, Grant rushed to Caprice and knelt down beside her. He took her into his arms and she threw hers around his neck.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, leaning away to look at her. He gently touched the red marks on her throat.

  “I’m fine,” she said a little hoarsely. “But now my neck and shoulders are really going to be tensed up.”

  “I was worried about you driving in the sleet. I came to pick you up and get you out of here before the streets became a sheet of ice. Did you call the police?”

  “No, Brett called me to tell me to stay away from Evelyn, and I told him it was too late . . . that I was here.”

  Brett Carstead was reading Evelyn Miller her rights.

  Grant held on to Caprice tightly, then proclaimed, “I guess I’ll have to take up yoga and whatever other hobbies you like in order to keep you safe.”

  “For a start, you could just give me a massage,” she said weakly.

  Instead of giving her a massage, he hugged her close.

  Epilogue

  The De Luca family dinner the following weekend was another celebration of Caprice and Grant’s engagement. Her parents’ house was definitely full. Besides Bella, Joe, and the kids, as well as Vince and Roz, Nikki had invited Brett, Uncle Dom had invited Dulcina, and Caprice’s dad had invited Chief Powalski since his wife was out of town.

  Caprice had pulled the lasagna from the oven and was letting it rest when Grant circled her shoulders with his arm. “Come with me to the library for a few minutes. Brett and
the chief want to give you the lowdown on everything they learned about Evelyn Miller.”

  All had been quiet after Evelyn’s arrest and Caprice had tons of questions. But she knew better than to ask them. Evelyn had been arraigned and was awaiting trial, but that’s all that Caprice knew.

  When she and Grant stepped into the library, Mack Powalski shook his finger at her. “You were one lucky lady.”

  “I’ve been told that,” she said, glancing at Grant.

  “But because I’ve always been like a favorite uncle to you, because I pushed you on the swing when you were in pigtails, and because you played a large part in solving this case, I thought we should fill you in. Evelyn confessed and has been charged with second-degree murder, as well as aggravated assault and criminal attempt homicide for her attacks on you.” Then Mack nodded to Brett.

  Somberly Brett warned her, “One thing you have to learn about investigating is to keep information to yourself. You never should have told Evelyn that the police now had a clue as to who broke into Sebastian’s house. That could have been a fatal mistake.”

  “I know,” Caprice admitted. “I never suspected her because she was so Zen, at least on the outside. I should have had an inkling, though, from that phone conversation I overheard.” Caprice had told the police all about that when they’d interviewed her after Evelyn had tried to kill her.

  “The blanks on Miller’s history are filled in now,” Mack told her. “Evelyn was the abuser in her marriage. She’d had a history of being overweight and overbearing. The night she assaulted you, we got a mug shot from New Jersey from seven years before.”

  Brett elaborated. “Friends of hers in New Jersey told us that, after she was divorced, she joined the weight-loss group Wings and shed seventy-five pounds. She became healthy, started taking yoga, progressed from being a student of it to teaching it, and she changed her life. But apparently she’d been bullied as a child and she still had anger issues that were never really resolved. They emerged full-blown again when Wendy thwarted her. She wouldn’t invest in Evelyn’s plans for the future because of what she’d found out, and then she ended Evelyn’s contract with Sunrise Tomorrow. What else could Wendy do? She ran a women’s shelter, and Evelyn had been an abuser.”

  “Along with the window shade Evelyn used to whack Wendy, we found Wendy’s journal in Evelyn’s apartment too,” Mack explained. “And on the thumb drive you gave us, we read private investigator’s reports on clients and employees. They included Evelyn’s arrest record and a P.I.’s report on her.”

  “I don’t understand something,” Caprice said. “When Wendy hired Evelyn, didn’t she do a background check then? Why did this just come to light now?”

  “Because Wendy didn’t really hire Evelyn. When Evelyn started with Sunrise, she volunteered her services just to help the other women feel better. When Wendy found the yoga classes were worthwhile, she contracted with Evelyn for her services. Wendy wasn’t Evelyn’s employer per se. Evelyn was self-employed. So I guess Wendy didn’t think it was necessary to run a background check then. It was only when Evelyn wanted her to invest in a yoga studio with her that Wendy took that precaution. But it was a precaution that ended her life. Sometimes too much information is worse than not enough.”

  “I’m glad it’s over,” Caprice said with relief. “I spoke with Lizbeth yesterday. She and Sebastian broke up, no surprise there. Starting this week, I’ll be moving furniture into the mansion. Sunrise Tomorrow—Residential could be ready before Christmas.”

  The living room had gone quiet and Caprice could see Bella and the kids and everyone else were moving into the dining room for dinner.

  Nikki peeked in the door. “The lasagna’s ready to serve.” She wandered over to Brett and smiled up at him. “Are you talking shop again?”

  “Not for the rest of the night,” he assured her, and gave her sister a smile.

  Caprice could see the chemistry between the two of them and she suspected they were heading into couple’s territory. Mack capped Grant’s shoulder. “I don’t think I congratulated the two of you on your engagement. When’s the big day?”

  “We haven’t set the date yet,” Grant told him. “But we’re planning on spring.”

  Nikki whispered to Grant, “Caprice has been looking at vintage wedding gowns online.” She addressed Caprice. “Are you going to show him what you found?”

  “Absolutely not,” Caprice protested. “He’s not going to see my gown until I walk down the aisle.”

  Grant wrapped his arm around her, hugged her, and whispered in her ear, “I can’t wait.”

  As Brett, Mack, and Nikki filed out of the library to follow everyone else into the dining room, Caprice gave Grant a kiss that said she couldn’t either.

  Original Recipes

  Caprice’s Shredded Potato, Ground Beef-Sausage Bake

  1 pound ground beef

  ½ pound loose sausage meat (I use tomato basil

  if available.)

  ¼ cup chopped onion

  teaspoon pepper

  ¼ teaspoon salt

  1 ½ cups spaghetti sauce

  Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

  Brown ground beef and sausage with onion, adding teaspoon pepper and ¼ teaspoon salt while the meat is browning. When no pink is showing, add tomato sauce and let simmer while you prepare the topping.

  1 ½ pounds shredded hash brown potatoes

  (thawed)

  1 can cream of celery soup

  2 cups shredded cheddar cheese

  ½ teaspoon salt

  ¼ teaspoon pepper

  While the meat mixture is simmering, mix thawed shredded hash brown potatoes, the can of cream of celery soup, and the shredded cheddar in a large bowl. Stir in ½ teaspoon salt and ¼ teaspoon pepper.

  Pour ground beef-sausage mixture into a lasagna pan and then spread the potato mixture on top. Bake covered (I use foil) for 30 minutes, then remove foil and bake an additional 20 minutes or until potatoes are browned.

  Serves six to eight.

  Nikki’s Feta Olive Tomato Salad

  ½ cup pitted and halved Kalamata olives (I buy

  from the olive bar already marinated, but you

  can use jarred olives.)

  ½ cup chopped fennel from the heart or bulb

  (I cut off the bulb, separate the upper stalks,

  wash and dry well, then chop and slice the

  bulb for recipe.)

  1 pint (2–3 cups) cherry tomatoes (Measure

  whole, then halve.)

  1 tablespoon oregano

  ¼ teaspoon salt

  teaspoon pepper

  ¼ teaspoon garlic powder

  3 tablespoons balsamic white vinegar

  2 tablespoons sesame oil

  ½ cup Feta cheese (crumbled)

  Sprinkle halved olives, fennel, and halved tomatoes with oregano, salt, pepper, and garlic powder. Stir in vinegar mixed with oil. Fold in Feta cheese.

  Makes four to six servings. Refrigerate leftovers.

  Bella’s Old-fashioned Coconut Cake

  ½ cup solid coconut oil

  1 ¾ cups granulated sugar

  5 egg whites

  1 whole egg

  1 teaspoon salt

  3 teaspoons baking powder

  1 teaspoon baking soda

  1 ½ teaspoons vanilla

  1 cup unsweetened coconut milk (I use

  Silk Coconutmilk.)

  2 ½ cups all-purpose flour

  Preheat oven to 375 degrees. In electric mixer, cream the solid coconut oil with the sugar. Add egg whites and whole egg slowly and mix until batter is smooth. Add salt, baking powder, and baking soda. Mix until blended. Add vanilla and coconut milk and mix just until blended. Add flour ½ cup at a time, mixing 2 minutes or until batter is smooth.

  Pour evenly into a 9 × 13 inch greased and floured pan. Bake at 375 degrees for 25 to 30 minutes or until toothpick comes out clean.

  FROSTING

  1 stick (½ cup) margarine (softened
)

  ½ cup Crisco shortening

  1 cup granulated sugar

  3 tablespoons flour

  ⅔ cup coconut milk (This should be tepid

  temperature and added slowly. I use

  Silk Coconutmilk.)

  ½ teaspoon vanilla

  Flake coconut

  Cream together the softened margarine and Crisco. To this mixture, add sugar, flour (one tablespoon at a time), coconut milk (add slowly), and vanilla. Beat 8 to 10 minutes at high speed until frosting is smooth. Spread over the cake and sprinkle the top with flake coconut.

  Please turn the page for an exciting sneak peek of

  Karen Rose Smith’s next

  Caprice De Luca Homestaging Mystery

  SLAY BELLS RING

  coming soon wherever print and e-books are sold!

  Chapter One

  “Your Christmas Delight theme for staging this house is perfect,” Sara Merriweather told Caprice De Luca on the Sunday before Thanksgiving. Yet Sara’s voice held forced cheerfulness and her eyes were troubled.

  Caprice was enchanted with the nineteen-eighteen historic Colonial on a side street in the oldest neighborhood in Kismet, Pennsylvania. But ever since she’d been putting the finishing touches on staging the house to sell, her client had looked worried.

  Part of her job as house stager was to set up a house to sell quickly. The other part? Listening to homeowners’ concerns, helping them declutter and teaching them to show off the home in the best possible light. However, listening was her best asset.