“Circumstances have just happened that way. One of the detectives and I have a decent relationship, so if I find important information, I share it with him,” Caprice explained.
Michelle asked, “The detective dating Nikki?”
“He’s the one—Brett Carstead. He’s a good guy with no ax to grind. He just wants to get to the bottom of the investigation and find the truth.”
“How quaint,” Jarrett commented.
That comment irked Caprice in a way. Jarrett had taken a seat on the loveseat. She turned to him and asked, “Do you have an alibi for the night Travis was killed?”
To her surprise, Jarrett didn’t seem perturbed at all by her question. He shook his head. “No, I don’t. Like Michelle, I spent the evening alone in my apartment in Maryland.”
“I understand you have a long résumé of different jobs.” Caprice intended to keep up a bit of pressure to throw him.
But he wasn’t thrown. His comeback included a tone of amusement. “Michelle, have you been sharing my history again?”
Michelle looked a bit embarrassed but she didn’t comment.
Swinging his focus back to Caprice, he admitted, “Yes, I have taken a lot of different jobs. Before you ask, yes, I’m working now. I work in a crab shack on the bay. I’m doing some of the cooking and I’m thinking about going to culinary school. I actually have a benefactor who will pay for it.”
For obvious reasons, Caprice guessed the benefactor was a woman. She wouldn’t go there . . . yet.
After another half hour of conversation, Caprice decided she couldn’t learn any more from Michelle or Jarrett.
Jarrett said to Michelle, “I’m going to take that dog for a walk. Okay with you?”
“He’d probably like that,” Michelle answered.
Maybe Michelle had changed her mind about keeping the Schnoodle.
After Caprice said her good-byes, Michelle walked her to the door. Caprice was strolling down the brick lane to the parking lot when she saw someone she wasn’t sure she wanted to see. Brett Carstead was exiting his car. She hesitated, then continued down the walk until she met Brett at the entrance to the parking lot.
Brett’s sunglasses hid his eyes as he said, “I’m sure you’re at this winery on wedding reception business, not for any reason involving the murder, right?”
Caprice wasn’t going to lie to him so she kept silent.
He shook his head and lifted his sunglasses to the top of his head. She supposed he wanted her to see the seriousness in his eyes.
“I know you have a stake in this investigation because of the wedding, but you need to stay clear of it,” he commanded her.
“Don’t give me a lecture,” Caprice advised him. “Because I’m going to tell you the truth. I won’t stay clear of it, and it’s not just because of the wedding.”
Brett gave her an odd look.
If she told Brett that Michelle and Vince once dated, would Vince be a suspect? Still, anyone could spill that bit of history. She’d trusted Brett before to do the right thing and to keep confidences. She had to trust him now.
He must have seen the debate inside her head because he asked, “What do you have to tell me, Caprice?”
Before she analyzed the situation too much, she revealed, “Did you know that Vince and Michelle once dated?”
Brett rubbed his hand over his face. “Now that you told me, I’m going to have to talk to Vince.”
Caprice shook her head. “You can’t. You know Vince is Michelle’s lawyer, don’t you?”
Brett’s jaw jutted out and Caprice knew that stubborn look and probably what was coming. She was right.
“Michelle and Vince’s client privilege isn’t going to stop me from asking Vince about his former relationship with her. And you know who else I’m going to have to tell, don’t you?”
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do.” He pulled out his phone.
With a sinking feeling in her stomach, Caprice knew he was calling his partner, Detective Jones.
She hurried to her van, unlocked the door, and then pulled out her phone.
Her brother’s secretary answered the call. “Hi, Caprice. Grant’s not here.”
“I’d like to speak to my brother. Is he there?”
“Vince is in his office so I can put you through. Are you ready for your wedding? We’re all so excited about that. I just can’t wait to see you and Grant married. My hope for you and Grant fifty years from now is as Gene Perret once said, Our wedding was many years ago. The celebration continues today.”
“I can’t wait to get married,” Caprice assured her.
“That’s as it should be. I’ll patch you through to Vince.”
Vince picked up immediately. “Hi, Caprice. What’s up? Don’t tell me you changed your mind about the tuxedos we picked out.”
“No, this is serious, Vince. I made a mistake.”
“What kind of mistake?”
“I told Brett that you’d once dated Michelle. He’s calling Detective Jones as we speak. They’re going to invite you in to talk about your relationship with her.”
Vince was silent for a few heartbeats.
She rushed to say again, “I’m so sorry. I never should have told him. I have to remember he’s a detective first and sort of a friend second.”
Vince’s response was immediate. “You can be friends with Brett when he’s not involved in a murder investigation. But I understand why you told him. Full disclosure, right? Face it, Caprice. He would have found out soon enough. It would have looked bad if it hadn’t come from one of us. So don’t fret about it.”
While she had Vince on the phone . . . “How are you and Roz?”
“That’s a subject I don’t want to talk about.”
“Vince—”
“I mean it, Caprice. I don’t need interference from you or Nikki or Bella.”
She looked toward Brett and saw he was still on his phone. “Are you and Roz going to work things out?”
“There’s nothing to work out. Michelle is consulting with me as a lawyer. Period.”
“And Roz won’t believe that?”
Her brother sighed. “She doesn’t believe it’s a lawyer-client relationship. But she has to trust me, Caprice, or else we don’t have anything.”
“Do you trust her?”
“Of course, I do.”
Caprice could have asked then why he didn’t ask Roz to buy into the house with him. Yet she didn’t. Not now. Not yet. She’d find out from Roz if Roz talked to him about it because she had the feeling that Roz’s distrust was based mostly on that fact. It had more to do with Vince’s commitment to her than with Vince’s past relationship with Michelle.
She could be wrong. She’d been wrong before. Time would tell.
Chapter Seven
When Caprice’s doorbell rang that evening, she suspected who it might be. She checked the video monitor on her computer desk and she was right. It was Vince. She almost hated to answer the door but she knew she had to face him.
Lady ran with her to the door.
“Maybe you could talk to him instead of me,” she said to Lady.
Lady tilted her head and stared straight at Caprice. Caprice thought she gave a little nod.
She’d definitely been at her computer too long.
After she opened the door, Vince opened the screened storm door. He looked rough. He was still wearing his office white Oxford shirt and black dress slacks, but he’d opened the top three buttons of his shirt and his tie hung down from the collar. His shirt was wrinkled and the truth was, sometimes in the middle of the day, Vince changed shirts so he could keep his starched look. It was the lawyer façade. Or the “appearances counted” motto. She wasn’t always sure which.
But now it was more than his clothes that looked bedraggled. It was his face. He didn’t just look tired, he almost looked defeated. She was afraid to hear what he had to say.
“Come on in,” she said. “Coffee, iced tea, water, or w
ine?”
“I’d like some of that bourbon Dad likes so much, but I’ll take the water. Better yet, give me black coffee. I still have work to do tonight.”
“You have it with you?” Caprice asked. He wasn’t carrying his brief case.
“No, I stopped in to give you a report, and to get a reprieve before I go home to Roz.”
That didn’t sound good. However, she didn’t question him about Roz just yet. “Living room or kitchen?” she asked him.
He stooped down to pet Lady and spent a good long time doing it. “The kitchen. If I sit in your living room I might fall asleep.”
“Sleepless nights?”
“What do you think?”
“I think you need a cream puff with peanut butter cream filling. I made them for tomorrow when Grant comes for supper.”
As they walked into the kitchen, Lady between them, Vince asked, “So I get one before Grant? What an honor.”
Caprice slugged his shoulder as she’d often done when they were kids.
He rubbed his arm. “Ow. You pack too much of a punch. It must be all that swimming you do at the gym.”
She’d gotten back into her swimming routine with the warmer weather. Come to think of it, she really should go tomorrow morning. Maybe.
Caprice brewed a pot of strong coffee. She didn’t know how long Vince would stay but he might need more than one cup. He took a seat at the table and, all of a sudden, Mirabelle appeared and hopped up on the chair next to him. She peeked at him from under the table and gave a soft meow.
He ran his fingers through her long, soft white fur. “She’s really at home here now.”
“Yes, she is. She’s part of the family.” Caprice took a cream puff shell from the container and filled it with pudding from the refrigerator. Then she set it in front of Vince. “Okay, now that you’ve caught your breath, tell me what happened.”
“Detective Jones called me to come in for questioning.”
“Oh, Vince. I thought Brett might do it himself.”
“Not a good idea since he’s dating Nikki. This was the right way to do it.”
“And how was Jones? Brash and mean?”
“I didn’t give him a chance to be brash and mean. I didn’t tell him much more than the time period I dated Michelle and the reason we broke up. When he asked me if I’d seen her since then, I told him I had—once.”
Caprice had been in the middle of filling her own cream puff when her head snapped up so she could stare at Vince. “You have seen her since then?”
“Don’t you become an interrogator too,” Vince groused. “Around Christmas we ran into each other at the Koffee Klatch when she was shopping. We spoke for a few minutes and then she went on her way. That was it.”
When Vince said that was it, then that was it, Caprice hoped.
“Does Roz know you ran into her around Christmas?”
Vince took a large bite of the cream puff before he answered. Then he licked his lips, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and grimly said, “She does now. I told her before I went to the police station, knowing it would come up.”
“Do I want to ask you about that discussion?”
“There wasn’t much discussion and, as I said before, I don’t want to talk about it.”
When Vince didn’t want to talk about something, he didn’t. At this moment, she’d respect his privacy. All she could do for tonight was ply her brother with cream puffs and coffee and hope from now and going forward he made wise decisions about Michelle . . . and about Roz.
* * *
The following morning Lady decided to wake Caprice by chasing Sophia down the stairs. How eight paws could be as loud as thunder, Caprice didn’t know, but they were. Mirabelle, who was stretched out next to Caprice on the bed gave a soft purring sound as Caprice petted her.
She ran her hand down Mirabelle’s body enjoying the feel of the cotton-soft fur. “Some people clip their Persians,” Caprice told Mirabelle.
Mirabelle opened one golden eye as if to say, Don’t you even think about it.
After Caprice rubbed Mirabelle under her chin, she received another purr. “Okay, kitto,” she said. “Time to rise and shine. I think I’ll feed you girls breakfast and take Lady for a walk before I get a shower today. We’ll work all morning, but this afternoon I might have to be out and about.”
Mirabelle yawned, opened both eyes, and then slowly rose to her paws.
In the doorway to her bedroom, Caprice asked Mirabelle, “Are you coming?”
Mirabelle gave another yawn, stretched, and then jumped off the bed to follow Caprice down the stairs.
A half hour later, as soon as Caprice and Lady went out her front door, she could tell the temperature was about fifty-five. But the sun was shining brightly and the sky was blue. It was a perfect spring day.
As Caprice walked Lady along her street, she noticed daffodils blooming in neighbors’ yards. Some forsythia bushes had burst into bloom already, and she realized hyacinths wouldn’t be far behind. They walked two blocks on her side of the street, crossed over, and strolled down that side under the maples and elms that were budding with leaves.
Usually Lady heeled and Caprice didn’t have to worry about her tugging on her leash. As a plus, she’d taught her to stay in that square beside her with treats and praise. But now Lady did start tugging and Caprice soon saw why. Her across-thestreet neighbor Dulcina was sitting on her porch drinking a mug of coffee.
Caprice hurried along with Lady up the steps to say good morning to her neighbor. Dulcina was dating her Uncle Dom. She’d be handling the guest book at the wedding and reception.
“Would you like a cup of coffee?” Dulcina asked. Her pretty black hair laced with strands of gray was drawn back into a ponytail. She worked at home doing medical transcription for a pediatrician’s office.
“I’ll take a rain check on the coffee. I have a lot of work to do this morning if I want to run errands this afternoon.”
Lady had gone to Dulcina who was petting her with a fondness that made her a good pet sitter when Caprice needed one. “Did Uncle Dom ask you about coming to the rehearsal dinner at the Country Squire Golf and Recreation Club?”
“He did, but are you sure you want me there?”
“Of course, I want you there. Uncle Dom is a groomsman and you’re handling the guest book. You’re both part of the wedding party.”
“Thank you for thinking of me that way. I’d love to come. I was surprised when I heard Roz was giving you the dinner. Doesn’t the groom’s family take care of that?”
Caprice and Dulcina often gave each other honest feedback. They were that kind of friends.
“When Roz heard that Grant’s parents hadn’t said anything about the dinner yet, she insisted on giving it to us as a wedding present.”
Dulcina rocked back and forth on the high-backed rocker while Lady watched the motion of the rungs. “You know, instead of going to the church, I could go to the Country Squire while everyone is at rehearsal to make sure it’s set up properly. Would you like that?”
“That sounds like a great idea. I’ll have Roz call you to iron out the details.”
Dulcina studied Caprice over the rim of her coffee mug. “Should I ask about the wedding reception? Will you still be having it at the winery?”
Caprice was trying to stay optimistic. “We’re hoping to. Everything’s already decided—tablecloths, centerpieces, the DJ. The only thing that would make us move it would be if the winery had immediate financial problems and had to shut down. But I don’t see that happening before the wedding. Michelle told me we could be the last wedding reception there, and that was before Travis was murdered.”
“Do you think there’s any way she can succeed on her own?”
“I don’t know. Travis’s brother came back to town, and he’s staying there with her. He ran the winery with Travis for a year not so long ago. Maybe he’d have ideas to get it on its feet again. It’s possible.”
“Does that give him a mo
tive for murder?” Dulcina asked.
Caprice hadn’t found out more about Jarrett . . . yet. “Possibly. I don’t know enough about him.”
“Are you looking into this murder in spite of getting married soon?”
“Because Michelle asked for Vince’s help, I got involved. Vince once dated Michelle and Roz isn’t too happy that he didn’t tell her. I’d like to see this solved quickly before Vince gets more involved, or Roz gets perturbed enough with him to move out.”
“You don’t think that will happen.”
“I don’t know. I just want to see them have smooth sailing again.”
“You know as well as I do that relationships are never smooth sailing.”
That was true, she supposed. She and Grant had certainly had their bumpy road. “So are you and Uncle Dom having smooth sailing, or are you bumping along?”
Dulcina smiled. “Both, I think. But we’re okay with that. He has his issues because of his ex-wife; and me, my marriage was what every woman dreams of. Then it was suddenly taken away from me when Johnny died. It was what I wanted and it was good. But I think over the years I’ve built it up in my mind to be even more than it was. Do you know what I mean?”
“Yes, I know what you mean. That was your way of memorializing it and remembering Johnny.”
“That’s true. Your Uncle Dom is the one who pointed that out to me and I wasn’t too happy when he did. But we worked through it. We both decided we’re not in any rush. I know neither of us is getting any younger but that doesn’t mean we should be reckless and make a mistake.”
“You mean like the mistake I almost made with Seth?” Seth Randolph had been a handsome and charming doctor whom she’d dated for a while.
“You didn’t almost make a mistake. Your heart knew Seth wasn’t ready to settle down and that his career was more important than anything else. You also realized he’d probably never put you first. I think your heart was trying to tell you all along that you’d decided Grant was the one for you ever since you met him when he and Vince were roommates at law school.”
“But I was too young and he was four years older. Then he found a job in Pittsburgh and married Naomi.”
Cut to the Chaise Page 7