She’d always felt a connection to Grant, a real communion with him. It had started when he was her brother’s roommate at college. She’d been seventeen. He’d been twenty-one. She’d had a major crush. He hadn’t paid her much notice, just treated her like a kid sister whenever he came home with Vince.
She did remember, however, the day Grant and Vince had graduated from law school. She and her parents had traveled to Carlisle and they all had gone out for a celebration dinner. At that dinner, her gaze had kept connecting with Grant’s. When she’d hugged him at the end of their evening together, she’d known he was taking a job in Pittsburgh. That hug had seemed powerful in a way, like a current she’d never felt before had run through her. But, afterward, she told herself she was just being foolish. Two years after that, her brother had told her Grant had married. She’d tried to close the book on the two of them, but after the death of Grant’s child, after his divorce, after he’d moved back to Kismet to be Vince’s law partner, she’d realized that book had never been really closed.
They hadn’t had an easy path to where they were now, but she’d believed . . .
She almost drove past the entrance to the property she was looking for. Ace had asked her to meet him and Marsha and Trista here. Marsha was thinking about buying the house. Although the driveway was a short one, it led through blue spruce that gave the lot an aura of privacy. Caprice emerged from the trees to follow the asphalt along the side of the house. It continued to the back. Caprice parked behind a black Lexus that was Ace’s vehicle of choice when he wasn’t being chauffeured somewhere. Since only that one car sat in the drive, Caprice surmised Ace, Marsha, and Trista had all come together.
Exiting her car, Caprice followed the walkway to the front of the house. It was a Craftsman-style but a modernized one. Marsha had looked at houses before and they weren’t this small. From Caprice’s experience with this type of home, she figured it was about two thousand square feet. But it was particularly attractive. There was a covered porch with large stone pillars and white trim. White trim also outlined the windows and paneled door. The roof was stiffly peaked with a large front gable with four multi-paned windows. Caprice guessed that front area might be a loft. The siding and the gable were cedar. The siding on the rest of the house looked like shiplap.
Ace opened the door and met her with a wide smile. “Marsha bought it,” he said proudly.
Caprice supposed that meant that Ace bought the house for Marsha and Trista. As far as she knew, Marsha didn’t work. Before she’d met Ace, she’d run a small boutique in Alexandria.
“How about we take a tour?” Ace said. “Do you have sample books in your car? I’m sure Marsha and Trista will want to look at them.”
“Is Brindle here too?” Caprice asked jokingly.
“No, she’s back at my place with Mrs. Wanamaker who is probably feeding her too much people food.”
Trista came running to the door. Ace’s daughter was a striking girl. Tall and lanky, she had more confidence now than when Caprice had first met her. Caprice could see that confidence in the way Trista stood straight and squared her shoulders. Her long face, her beautiful chestnut hair, and her very green eyes had come from Ace.
She gave Caprice a huge hug. “I can’t wait to decorate the house with you.”
Caprice looked over Trista’s head to Ace. He just arched his brows.
“I think your mom might have some say in it too,” Caprice offered.
Trista ended the hug. “I guess we’ll let her. But you and I are going to do my room all by ourselves.”
When Caprice had first decorated Trista’s room at Ace’s estate, she’d done it according to his instructions. Lots of pink and ruffles. Trista had protested loudly when she’d seen it. Being an absent father too much of the time, Ace had been willing to do anything to please his daughter. He’d let her and Caprice come up with a new plan and a new style for the room.
While Marsha and Trista showed Caprice the house, Ace said he’d retrieve the sample books from Caprice’s car.
The house was completely empty, devoid of furniture, draperies, or anything to make it livable. Because of that, Caprice had a good sense of space. From the foyer, Trista showed her to the left where there was a small office and a powder room with a cute bowl sink.
Marsha was standing inside the office looking pleased. “Hi, Caprice. Isn’t the house terrific?” Without waiting for an answer, she rushed on. “This will be a perfect place for me to put my computer and file cabinets for important papers. I can’t wait to show you the rest.”
As they left the office, Marsha gestured toward a staircase that led upstairs. “Shall we go upstairs or continue with the first floor?” she asked Caprice.
“Let’s finish the first floor.”
They did, walking through a nice-sized living room, the dining room, and a kitchen with high-end appliances and a marble-topped island. There was a laundry/mud room to the rear of the kitchen. The mud room had an outside entrance. Lastly, they toured the master suite with its en-suite bath and shower.
“Now let’s go upstairs,” Caprice said.
She’d been right about the loft to the front of the house. “Is this going to be your reading nook?” Caprice asked Trista.
“That’s a good idea,” Ace’s daughter said.
There were two bedrooms with a shared bath on the second floor. Trista motioned to the one on the left. “That room’s mine. It’s bigger than the other one.”
Caprice studied the room, the closet space, the windows that let in a nice amount of light. “Do you have a theme yet?”
When she’d redecorated Trista’s room at Ace’s, they’d gone with a country horse theme.
“Instead of a theme, can I just go with colors?”
“Sure, you can. Except we’ll have to decide on the style of furniture.”
“I’d like color blocking on the walls, blue and lime green. And the furniture?” She paused and thought about it. “I’d like a bookshelf bed, maybe in knotty pine or light oak.”
Just as before, Trista knew what she wanted. “Are you sure you want a bookshelf bed instead of a fabric headboard?”
Again, Ace’s daughter thought about it. “I want to go with the bookshelf bed and maybe a desk to match. I just have a laptop so it doesn’t take much space.”
“Maybe floating shelves above it would be good,” Caprice suggested.
“Yeah, they would be. I have a lot I could put on those.”
“I hope decorating the rest of the house is as easy,” Marsha teased.
After they went downstairs, Marsha said, “The detached garage out back has a space above it that could be an apartment. I don’t know what I want to do with that yet. So we might just not do anything for the time being.”
Downstairs in the kitchen, they found Ace who pointed to the sample books he’d set on the island. “Why don’t you and Trista go through those,” he suggested to Marsha. “I want to talk to Caprice for a moment.”
“That’s fine,” Marsha commented, meaning it. At one time, she’d thought Caprice and Ace were romantically involved. She’d found out differently fairly quickly.
While Trista and Marsha went to the kitchen island to page through the sample books, Ace motioned Caprice into the office at the front of the house. “I suppose you’re wondering why Marsha bought this house instead of just moving in with me.”
“That’s none of my business.”
“Maybe not,” Ace agreed. “But she wants to take everything between us slow, not only for her sake but for Trista’s. She had to put up with a lot from me. We got our divorce for good reasons. She wants to make sure those reasons don’t still apply.”
Caprice knew groupies and drugs had been involved. But since then, Ace had cleaned up his act and made a comeback. “I imagine it’s a hard life to be married to someone who’s always out on the road.”
“It is,” he confirmed. “But I’m determined to make a relationship between us work this time. The t
ours are absolutely necessary in today’s climate to sell a new CD. Sure, a lot of music is digital now. But the concerts still rev up the fans.”
“I hope it works out for you this time, Ace.”
“I know you do. So I wanted to tell you that if you want to change your venue for your reception, you can have it at my place.”
A troubled look must have crossed her face because Ace asked, “What’s wrong?”
“A lot. I thought Grant and I could wade through the wedding preparation without having stress. How stupid was that?”
“So the murder is a stress?” Ace asked.
“It’s not just the murder. Grant’s parents are in the mix, his whole family really. We got into an argument about that, and about the wedding reception. I think he thinks we should change the venue too. But I don’t want to bail on Michelle. His parents think we should change it, but they have their own opinion about a lot of things, including me.”
“What about you?” Ace looked mystified.
“My fashion sense, my love of animals, my honesty, my family.”
“Wow! That must have been some argument.”
“We’ve never had an argument like that before,” she said with her voice breaking.
Ace put his hand on her shoulder. “Anything that involves a major life decision is stressful. I’m sure it’s not only the wedding. Grant’s going to be moving into your house. You’re going to be building on an addition. There will be lots of life changes. So don’t be too hard on either of you.”
“What am I supposed to do about his parents? They’re going to stay with my parents while they’re in Kismet and I’m not sure that’s the right decision either. What if they fight? What if there’s a wall between them? What if they never want to see each other again?”
“Whoa, girl. Where is this coming from? It’s not like you.”
“I just want everything to be . . . perfect,” she confessed.
“Maybe you should elope.”
“You know we can’t do that. And I really don’t want to. But I’m so afraid this argument that Grant and I had is really going to come between us. He just walked out without discussing the situation further.” She felt absolutely sick at heart when she thought about it.
“You do know men and women are different, right?”
Caprice took a deep breath. “Of course, I know that.”
“When women are upset, they like to talk. When men are upset, we just want to be alone somewhere. You gave Grant space once before. Give it to him again. It will work out. I know it will.”
“I’m glad you’re so positive,” she said, still with a catch in her voice.
Changing the subject, Ace gave her a probing look. “Are you making any headway on the murder?”
He knew her too well. She’d helped him when he’d been a suspect in a murder investigation. “I think I’m missing something because the pieces just don’t all fit together right. Do you know what I mean?”
“Tell me who your suspects are.”
She went through the list, from Michelle and Jarrett and Vivian to Neil, the owner of Black Horse Winery and the neighbor.
“You know Michelle could be the big winner because of Travis’s death,” he pointed out.
“How do you figure? The winery’s not doing well,” Caprice argued.
“Maybe not. But if she could sell the place, she could more than pay off their debts. And doesn’t Travis own classic cars? They’re worth serious money too. Maybe you shouldn’t give Michelle a pass simply because she used to be Vince’s girlfriend.”
As Caprice thought about what Ace said, she nodded. “I don’t know nearly enough about Michelle. I think I have to find out more.”
“How are you going to do that?”
“Michelle had a former assistant that Travis insisted she let go. You know how assistants are. They usually know the nitty-gritty on their boss. I think I’m going to have to talk with her.”
“At least you have the murder to concentrate on while you and Grant work things out.”
“We have to, Ace. I love him.”
“I know you do. Because of that, the two of you will find your way. There aren’t many couples like you and Grant. You fit together. You’re honest with each other, and honesty is probably what has you both frazzled now. But remember one thing—in-laws can be the downfall of any marriage. Marsha’s parents never approved of me, and that certainly didn’t help anything.”
“And Grant’s parents don’t approve of me.”
“They don’t know you. Just be yourself with them, Caprice. Really, in the end, that’s all you can do.”
Maybe it was. But for Grant, would that be enough?
Chapter Sixteen
Caprice fully intended to spend her morning at the computer, designing floor plans and searching her favorite suppliers for furniture and decorative items for Marsha’s house. However, she couldn’t stop thinking about Grant. They seemed to be at a standstill. He thought he was right. She thought she was right. In the past, it had been difficult for Grant to share his feelings. In the past six months or more, it had been much easier for him. But now . . . would he make the first move or should she?
She thought about their argument again when she took Lady for a long walk. Tulips were blooming in the gardens along her street. By the end of the month, roses would be budding too. She liked her street because this was an older neighborhood with mature trees and houses with character. Sure, the tree roots buckled some of the sidewalk and houses could be thought of as out-of-date. But she didn’t see them that way. From ranchers to bi-levels, from brick and stone to siding, each one made a statement about the people who lived there. She was so grateful that at Christmas Grant had presented her with the plans to put on an addition . . . so grateful that he wanted to live in her house. It wouldn’t be her house any longer. It would be their house. She truly felt that way.
The walk didn’t give her any more insight than she’d had before she started. But Lady had enjoyed the exercise and it was good for her too. She wondered if Roz would be out of bed yet. She’d thought of taking Dylan along on their walk but she hadn’t wanted to disturb Roz if she and Dylan were both sleeping. Even the days Roz opened her shop, Caprice doubted that she rose before eight a.m. Caprice was usually up at six.
Back inside, after she dished Lady’s breakfast into her bowl and fed the felines, she grabbed a container of yogurt from the refrigerator. Since it was organic and plain, she sliced a peach on top. She didn’t want to gain weight before her wedding and not fit into her gown. She’d always considered herself ten to fifteen pounds overweight, but Grant had always said her figure was perfect . . . rounded where it was supposed to be.
Grant.
Lost in thought, she found Lady, Mirabelle, and Sophia finished their breakfast before she did. They all followed her to her office as she switched on her computer and settled herself at the desk. Lady was right by her side as Sophia jumped up onto the printer. Mirabelle, like the princess she was, sat in the chair next to the desk. It was turquoise and Mirabelle’s white fluffy coat looked beautiful against the color.
Caprice had drawn each room of Marsha’s house on graph paper last night before she’d gone to bed. Marsha had told her she liked Swedish-style furniture. Caprice knew exactly what that meant and where to go to shop.
The first piece she found online was a Swedish dresser that came in many finishes, including a cashew color. Caprice decided to start with that for the bedroom. What she liked most about the dresser was that it was fashioned of alder wood and crafted in North America. The dovetail drawers meant quality.
Ace had told Caprice that price was no object. Apparently, he was covering the cost of furniture and decorating the house. After taking a screenshot of the dresser and e-mailing it to herself so she’d have access to it on her tablet, Caprice went to the same supplier of the dresser and found a Swedish two-door bookcase. The company hand-crafted in small quantities. Solid brass hardware spoke of the quality
. The bookcase would be a nice addition to either the bedroom or the living room depending on what else she found. It wasn’t long before she spotted a Swedish cottage bed headboard inspired by late-nineteenth-century furniture. Like the dresser, it came in a multitude of colors. She took screenshots of each. She’d show them to Marsha. After all, she might want to put a pop of color in the bedroom with the bed in robin’s-egg blue, burnt caramel, or even red hot. She also needed to know if Marsha wanted a full or queen-sized bed. She imagined she’d want the queen for nights when Ace stayed over. A king would be too large for the bedroom.
Caprice was about to start looking into living room furniture when her computer screen suddenly went blank.
Had the electricity gone out?
She turned on the lamp on her desk and that was just fine. She had power. But other than that, she had nothing.
Roz was used to dealing with her computer system at her dress shop. Maybe she could take a look and find out what was going on.
Caprice thought she’d heard Roz come downstairs while she was working. She’d heard the kitchen storm door close and figured Roz had let Dylan outside for his first run of the day. Caprice smelled coffee.
She called into the kitchen. “Roz, can you come here?”
A few moments later, Dylan came running into her office with Roz not far behind. He went to Lady immediately and they sniffed each other. Then Dylan danced around and barked at Mirabelle. The Persian stood, squinted down at the little dog, and then sat back down again, winding her tail around her.
“Is something wrong?” Roz asked. “Usually I try to let you alone so you can work.”
“Yes, something’s wrong. Look at my computer screen.”
The screen color was a dull gray. No screen saver. No icons. Nothing.
“Do you have it turned on?”
“Yes, I have it turned on. I was in the middle of finding furniture for Marsha’s house and it suddenly went blank.”
Cut to the Chaise Page 18