Caprice was trying to take her mind off of her mother’s sadness . . . and the murder. At least for a little while. At least until tomorrow when they gathered at her mom and dad’s for dinner and would go over it all again. She turned her attention to her computer and her Web site.
Time was getting short before Valentine’s Day, only a week away, and Caprice had to give the okay for changes to her Web site. Her webmaster had redesigned it for Valentine’s Day, creating a special badge that led to a separate page for Give-from-the-Heart Day. Anyone going to the Web site could make donations from there. Every penny was welcome.
“You two can help me think up my daily posts and tweets for the campaign. We’re going to bring in lots of money for food and clothes.”
At the word food, Lady lifted her head.
“Uh oh. I said a code word.”
Caprice’s cell phone lay by her keyboard. It began vibrating as well as playing “Good Day Sunshine.” Bella’s picture appeared on the screen.
Caprice swiped across it and answered the call. She had a sixth sense some of the time, but she didn’t need it tonight to know what Bella was calling about. She probably felt left out, even though Caprice had called her while she was at her parents’ house and filled her in.
“How’s Mom?” Bella asked.
“She’s taking it pretty hard. Vince dropped me off at home, but Nikki is going to stay the night.”
“I should have been there, too, but with Benny just getting over his cold, and bringing over the whole brood, and having to talk about—I don’t know what we would have been talking about, but it wouldn’t have been happy. It just didn’t seem like a good idea. Yet it didn’t seem right not to be there either. Even Joe said so.”
After a few moments of silence, Bella asked, “Do you know when the viewing and funeral will be? I’m going to have to get sitters.”
“Since this is a murder investigation, I don’t know when they’ll release Louise’s body. My guess is a few days at least. It depends on what the detectives find, and how much Chet pushes.”
“Does pushing really help?”
“No one’s going to answer that one, but I do know Chet has some powerful friends—state representatives and state senators. I really don’t know how much politics is involved in running the police department. Dad says Mack never talks about that.”
“Knowing Mack when we were kids, and knowing him now, are definitely two different things,” Bella agreed.
Caprice sank back in time as she thought about Louise and how much she’d been around when they were young. “Do you remember those dresses Louise gave us to play in when we were kids?”
“When we went to her house and played dress-up?”
“Yeah. They were all taffeta, voile, and frothy.”
“She hadn’t worn them very much. They were like new,” Bella remembered.
“She always said Chet didn’t like to see her in the same dress more than once when they went to a party.”
“Do you remember that white dress she had that hung in the back of her closet, and she wouldn’t let us dress up in it?” Bella asked.
Caprice took a journey back, thinking about Louise’s bedroom, the huge walk-in closet, the way it was organized and divided. That white dress had been separated from all the others. It had looked like . . . Caprice thought about it. It had looked like a First Communion dress for a sixteen-year-old.
“She would never answer us when we asked her what it was for. What do you think it was for, Bee?”
“You know more about old fashions than I do.”
“Not old, vintage.”
“Yeah, well, vintage. It sort of looked like a dress that a girl might wear to a prom back then.”
“Maybe it could have been a low-key wedding dress.”
“It was lacy, and almost went to the ankles.”
“Do you remember it well enough to sketch it? You’re good at that. If you could draw a sketch, then maybe I could look up some old patterns or old fashion designs and get an idea of the year it was in style, and what it might have been used for.”
“And you think this is going to help how?” Bella asked, puzzlement in her tone.
“I don’t know. But Mom wants me to help figure this out. If not who killed her, maybe why. We only know Louise from when she and Mom became friends. Mom doesn’t know anything about her background before she moved here, and that seems odd.”
“Maybe she was running away from something painful and didn’t want to talk about it. She started a new life here and that was all that mattered.”
That was a story that could be woven into murder motivation, Caprice supposed. “Her life in Kismet isn’t all that matters now. I don’t know, but if you can sketch the dress, Bee, sketch it, okay?”
“In my spare time, when I’m not too sleepy to hold a pencil.”
“Speaking of your spare time: How would you like to have some with just Joe and Benny? After I stop at the police station to take care of my statement tomorrow, I can take the kids ice skating before dinner at Mom and Dad’s.”
“You’d do that?”
“I know this isn’t an easy time for you. Sure, I’d do that.”
“What do you want in return?”
“I don’t need anything in return, except of course, sometime when I’m in a pinch, it would be great if you could stop in and walk Lady.”
“I knew it. With you, there’s always something to do with animals. Okay, it’s a deal. Lady’s a cute pup.”
“I can’t believe you’re admitting it.”
“Let’s just say, I like her better than I like Sophia. Cats are so—”
“Don’t mention ‘independent.’ Sophia sleeps beside me every night. She nuzzles my arm. She purrs. She puts her paw on my stomach.”
“Oh, please,” Bella said. “Don’t give me details. Someone should be in that bed with you other than the cat.”
No, they weren’t going to talk about that.
Changing the subject abruptly, Caprice asked, “Did you call Mom to tell her you were thinking about her?”
“Not yet.”
“It’s not too late. You could call her now. I’m sure she’s going to have trouble getting to sleep tonight.”
“Aren’t we all?” Bella asked in that hollow tone that spoke of murder and the people who committed it.
On Sunday morning, Caprice drove her work van to early Mass at Saint Francis of Assisi Catholic Church. Usually she would go home and make something to take along for the family’s monthly dinner. But today, she’d created a recipe she could just make at her mom’s when she arrived. The bread she planned to bake was best warm from the oven. She’d take Lady along to her mom’s, but right now, she had two other stops to make before ice skating with Bella’s kids and dinner at her parents’.
After taking care of her statement at the police station, she headed for the Downings’. She didn’t know if forensics was finished with the crime scene, but she’d soon find out. At almost noon, it was possible that they would be.
She certainly wasn’t going to question Chet the day after his wife was murdered. The police had probably done it and maybe would do it again. She didn’t want to add to Chet’s sorrow or his discomfort.
She thought again about whether or not she’d be able to enter the house. Maybe officers were still stationed there, though the York County Forensics team would try to release the crime scene as soon as they’d collected every bit of evidence. Paying manpower to secure a crime scene would get expensive.
Would Chet still want to sell the house where memories of Louise were potent? With a murder happening there, would the value of the property tank? Caprice had seen that happen before.
After driving down Middlebrook Drive, Caprice headed to the back of the house and found the greenhouse area was still sectioned off with crime scene tape. At least one officer would be on-site to make sure nothing was disturbed.
Since her car and Nikki’s van had been parked in the dri
veway when the murder was committed, they’d been impounded. Caprice missed her Camaro and hoped she could pick it up soon. Nikki needed her van to work, so she was in worse straits than Caprice.
Circling the house again, she parked at the curb at the front, and she noticed no crime scene tape stretched there. Had the police found anything as they’d gone through the house? She imagined they’d been searching for the murder weapon. Still, the place had looked so pristine, she couldn’t imagine them finding it there. Unless, of course, they spent extra time searching for someplace Chet might have hidden it . . . or Rachel.
Neither seemed likely. But who knew? She supposed everyone had to be treated like a suspect.
Parked at the curb, Caprice studied the front of the house, the architecture, the beautiful windows, the pillars. She thought about the chintz and gilt-edged mirrors inside, the hearts and flowers that Louise had loved so much. What had brought this down upon the Downings?
Murder could be a crime of passion. It could be premeditated and well thought out. It could be revenge. It could be the goal of someone gaining an advantage, the means of winning something valuable.
Probably one of the first questions the detectives were asking was, Who gained from Louise’s death?
Maybe Rachel could help her with that one.
Two minutes later, Caprice stood at the front door ringing the melodious bell. After a few minutes of waiting for someone to open the door, she was ready to turn away. But then the door did open.
Rachel stood there in her black slacks and white blouse, looking a bit flustered. “Caprice. I wasn’t expecting anybody. I’m not used to having guests come to the front door. Mr. Downing’s not here if you came to see him.”
Caprice wasn’t exactly sure how to proceed so she just prodded a little. “He’s not here?”
“Oh, no. He stayed in a hotel in York last night and I stayed with my sister. The police and that whole team of investigators were here until a little bit ago. An officer is still at the greenhouse. Mr. Downing called me about an hour ago and told me Detective Carstead had notified him that the police were finished with the house but not the greenhouse. He asked me to come on over and put everything back the way it should be in the house. Come on in. Would you like some coffee?”
Caprice hadn’t yet had her morning fix. “Sure, if you have time. I don’t want to interrupt. When will Mr. Downing be home?”
“Oh, he said something about this evening. I don’t think he can stand being here, you know, without Mrs. Downing, without Louise. She always wanted me to call her Louise, but when she had visitors or I talked about her, I always spoke of her as Mrs. Downing. It just seemed right.”
Caprice followed Rachel through the living room, down a hall, past Chet’s den, into the kitchen. Through all that, she hadn’t seen anything amiss.
“What do you have to clean up?”
“The walk-in closet in the master suite is a bit of a mess and drawers have been emptied or shuffled through. I’ll have to remake the beds. I guess the police were looking in between the mattresses and under the pillows. I’m not sure. They even questioned and fingerprinted me yesterday.”
Standard operating procedure. Caprice was sure they’d been looking anywhere a gun could have been hidden. And as part of the household, they’d be looking at Rachel as a suspect.
“Tell me something, Rachel. Do you know of anyone who would want to hurt Louise?”
“The police asked me the same thing.”
“Do you know of anyone?”
“There were women who didn’t like her. Some of those Garden Club friends. When Louise would leave the room, they could be so catty. They acted like I wasn’t even there. But I don’t think they’d have a reason to murder her.”
“How long have you been working here now?”
“Seven years.”
“And in those seven years, did Louise ever tell you she was afraid of anyone?”
Rachel moved to the coffeepot and poured. “Louise wasn’t the type of woman to be afraid of anyone. I don’t think I ever saw her afraid, though sometimes she seemed sad.”
“When were those times?”
“She’d hear a song play on the oldies station, or she’d be sitting on a bench in the rose garden. Once, I caught her crying there.”
“Did she tell you what was upsetting her?”
“No. She just said the roses were so pretty they made her cry.”
Caprice would have to ask her mom about that. Where had Louise gotten her love of roses, or was it just a hobby that had popped up as she’d gotten older?
“So you don’t know of anyone who might have been a threat?”
An unusual look crossed Rachel’s face.
“What?” Caprice asked.
“Since you put it that way . . .”
“Who do you think might have been a threat?”
“The housekeeper who was here before I came.” She said it with a lift of her chin.
“I was just getting started in the decorating business around that time. When I was little, Louise had a really nice housekeeper who baked cookies whenever I came over. But when I was a teenager, she left. I never knew her replacement very well. Her name was Pearl, wasn’t it?”
“You have a good memory. Yes, it was Pearl. From what I heard, she made lots of threats before she left. Louise had more help back then. Pearl was the housekeeper, but she also had a cleaning lady, and someone who came in for the laundry. They used to tell stories.”
“And why did Louise let Pearl go?”
“I’m not exactly sure, but the official reason was that she’d become too cocky. She thought she ran the house rather than Louise, and Louise didn’t like that one little bit.”
If there was one thing Caprice had known about Louise, it was that she liked to be in control. “So what happened?”
“When Louise fired her, Pearl made threats.”
“Life-threatening threats?”
“That depends on how you look at it. She said she’d give details of Chet and Louise’s life to the gossip chain in Kismet. So Mr. Downing gave her a settlement and she went away.”
“Was it a meaningful settlement?”
“It was enough to make her be quiet and to move to York and set up a cleaning business. She hasn’t come back since. Only Mr. Downing or his lawyer would know if she was in contact with him again.”
“I see. Pearl was a large woman, wasn’t she?”
“She was. She was quite intimidating. She left in a harrumph the day I came for an interview. I wouldn’t want to meet her in a back alley.”
Apparently Caprice had just found her first suspect. The question was, Would Pearl be her last?
Chapter Six
Gracefulness on the ice didn’t come easily for Caprice. She envied Megan and Timmy who were skimming around the rink Sunday afternoon, looking as if they actually knew what they were doing. Although Caprice had had access to this rink since she was young, that hadn’t seemed to help her skills. Maybe it was because when her sisters and brother enjoyed coming here and meeting friends, she’d preferred staying home watching over whatever pet had followed her home recently. Or when she was older, volunteering at the SPCA and giving some lonely pets much-needed affection.
Her thoughts wandering helter-skelter, like the individuals on the ice striving to keep their balance, she found herself zooming much too fast toward a raven-haired woman in green slacks and a green jacket, her tweed scarf flying out behind her. The woman stopped abruptly and it took Caprice every detail of instruction she’d ever learned about ice skating to stop before she ran smack-dab into her. The woman must have felt Caprice’s breath on her neck because she turned abruptly.
Instead of the watch-what-you’re-doing warning Caprice expected, she heard, “Caprice De Luca! Imagine seeing you here.”
Caprice knew that high-pitched voice anywhere. Millicent Corsi ran with the Kismet country club crowd. She could be scathing with gossip when she found someone to listen to h
er. She was older than Caprice’s thirty-two, but probably wouldn’t admit she was a few years over the hill. She was the type of woman who would use every scientific advance in plastic surgery to assure she looked at least ten years younger. From the scuttlebutt, not only from the Country Squire Golf and Recreation Club but at the Garden Club, too, Millicent had had breast augmentation and a tummy tuck, possibly liposuction. No one was sure about that. Caprice hadn’t seen Millicent since she’d spoken to the Garden Club about simple decorating rules to help flower arrangements spiff up any room.
Automatically Caprice looked toward Timmy and Megan to make sure they weren’t in any trouble. Megan was skating around the rink, trying to keep up with her brother, and doing a fair job of it.
Before Caprice could even say, “It’s good to see you, Millicent,” or some congenial opener, Millicent leaned close to Caprice and asked, “Did you hear about Louise Downing?”
As she was thinking about how to respond, Millicent went on. “Well, of course you have. Your family was sort of close to her and Chet.”
Caprice wasn’t exactly sure what that “sort of” meant, so she stuck with “Yes, we were. It’s awful. Mom’s really broken up about it.”
“I guess she would be, but on the other hand—Could anyone really be surprised? Louise rubbed lots of people the wrong way.”
The remark was so catty, Caprice responded defensively, “She was shot, Millicent. Who would have ever expected that? She was a respected member of this community, as is her husband. I don’t quite understand why you weren’t surprised.” Caprice wasn’t letting any information out she shouldn’t. The shooting was the lead story on local news outlets.
“Oh, my dear. I was shocked. But Louise wasn’t the paragon everyone thought she was. You know that, don’t you?”
Paragon. Who wanted to be a paragon? Louise had been wealthy and admired by many. Caprice supposed she’d been envied, too. Had Millicent envied her? Was that where this was coming from?
“Louise was never anything but kind to me and my family.”
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