“Grown-up. Mom will be proud.”
Had she dressed tonight partly for her mother? Maybe so. Even though her mother would never try to tell her what to wear, she would consider the tone-down a benefit, and more appropriate. Funeral homes always had that over-the-top cold temperature. Coats, jackets, and sweaters were welcome.
Mr. Shultz, the funeral home director, motioned to the front of the room where the flower arrangements stood on height-adjusted stands. Sometimes, at a Catholic viewing these days, there weren’t so many flowers because friends opted to give Mass cards instead. A Mass would be said in honor of their friend, maybe to get them a better place in Heaven? Caprice wasn’t sure about that, and when she started asking questions, everyone just got uncomfortable. But saying prayers to help a person’s soul or energy or whatever it was reach its highest good wasn’t out of her belief realm.
Rows of chairs were arranged sort of like at a wedding. There were about ten rows with about eight seats in each row on either side of the center aisle. Of course, at the center of it all was an open casket. Red and white roses decorated the open lid. There was one red rose, long-stemmed, tucked into baby’s breath lying close to Louise, and Caprice guessed that was specifically from Chet.
She didn’t want to go up there, she really didn’t, but her mom and dad and Nana had come in the door and so had Nikki.
“Did you see Bella?” she asked Vince before they reached her.
“She came early to pay her respects and left not long before you got here. She said she’ll come to the funeral tomorrow.”
The De Lucas gazed at each other and didn’t have to say a word. They hugged, then walked together to the receiving line and waited for friends and colleagues of Chet to offer condolences.
Caprice leaned close to her mom. “How are you doing?” They had both been called to the police station yesterday, along with Nikki, to talk to Detective Carstead.
Her mom, dressed in black, sent her a weak smile. “I’m fine.”
That was an out-and-out lie. Her mom looked pale. Caprice squeezed her hand.
The line moved slowly. When the family reached Chet, her mom gave him a hug first, then spoke to him in low tones.
Caprice took the opportunity to study him. He looked like a broken man. After so many years of marriage, what was he feeling, what was he thinking, and what was he going to do?
There were plenty of people behind them in line, so they didn’t tie him up long, but moved over to the casket, and took turns on the kneeler there beside the flickering candle. No one but Caprice and law enforcement knew exactly what damage had been done to Louise’s body. Caprice hated kneeling there because this wasn’t Louise anymore. Louise’s soul or energy or whatever left a person when they died simply wasn’t there. That body was now an empty shell, no matter how perfect the funeral technician made it look.
Caprice, Nikki, her mom, and Nana each knelt a respectful amount of time with Vince standing behind them, their dad standing there, too. After they rose to their feet, they all made their way around the outside of the chairs to a row that was vacant. Her mother would want to stay a little while and talk to some of Louise’s friends, maybe other parishioners of St. Francis. Either the rosary would be said or there would be a short prayer service. Caprice was sure her mom would stay for that, too. She wasn’t sure if she would.
Sitting there, she heard snippets of conversations.
“I remember when Louise—”
“Louise looked so great in those Easter hats. Remember the one that was yellow straw with the big pink roses?”
“Louise loved lace, and anything pretty, really. I’m surprised Chet didn’t kick up a fuss about the chintz and lace.”
Not for the first time Caprice wondered if Chet would sell the house where he and Louise had lived for so many years. She glanced toward him . . . and then took a second look. He wasn’t standing near the casket anymore, but rather ten feet away with a very attractive woman. She looked about fifteen years younger and she was touching his arm in a familiar way.
Just who was the attractive ash-blonde? Had there been discord in the Downings’ hearts-and-flowers marriage?
The woman must have said something about the people who had come to pay their respects because he looked over the friends and family in the chairs. His gaze caught Caprice’s and a flush stained his cheeks. He looked . . . guilty?
Hmmm. There was only one way to find out what was going on and who that woman was. She knew her mother was upset enough just by being here, so she wasn’t going to pull her into that discussion.
Caprice tapped her mother’s arm. “I’ll be right back.” She stood and easily made her way to Chet, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do. When she approached him, he stopped talking to the blonde and gave his attention to her.
He said smoothly, “Thanks so much for coming, Caprice. I know Louise meant a lot to you and your mom, and your brother and sisters. It’s so hard to be here, isn’t it?” His voice held sorrow that seemed sincere.
Seemed sincere.
Caprice didn’t answer, hoping the silence would create room for introductions. It did.
Chet said, “I don’t know if you know Malina Lamont? She’s my CFO.”
Chief Financial Officer. That meant they worked together.
“It’s good to meet you,” she said politely. “Even under circumstances like this. I just wanted to ask you, Chet, if there’s anything I can do. We rearranged some things for the staging, and I didn’t know if you might want to put everything back the way it was, especially your den. I can have Juan replace the second leather recliner and the side tables that used to be in there.”
Chet gave her a weak smile and shook his head. “No, I’m fine. I told Ms. Langford I still want to sell the house, though I don’t think an open house is suitable right now. The work you did will still help sell the place. My den is about the only place I’m comfortable right now. Louise never came in there very much, so I don’t have those memories to wrestle with. The rest of the house is a little difficult.”
He stepped closer to Caprice and lowered his voice. “Your mother said she asked you to look into Louise’s death. Are you going to do that?”
“How would you feel about it if I did?” Caprice asked, watching Malina’s expression, too. She just looked slightly uncomfortable.
Chet shrugged, the expensive tweed of his suit catching the overhead light. “The police think this was a robbery gone wrong, or possibly an attempted kidnapping. When folks are well-to-do, law enforcement always believes money is involved.”
Caprice glanced at the pretty CFO again. If Louise and Chet’s marriage wasn’t what it seemed, there would be money involved there, too, along with a divorce. Chet had scheduled meetings so he’d be away the day of the open house. Could he have hired someone to kill his wife?
Caprice felt terrible for even thinking it.
“I am going to look into it, Chet, just to satisfy my mom. Rachel told me that the housekeeper before her was fired. Would you mind if I spoke with her?”
“I don’t mind at all. But Pearl Mellencamp might still hold a grudge. She moved to York and started a cleaning service with the settlement I gave her.”
“Was the settlement a large one?”
“Essentially it was a severance package, much more than she deserved. But it kept her quiet and out of our hair and that’s what was important.”
Caprice asked Chet, “Can you tell me where Louise was from originally before she came to Kismet?”
Chet gave her a blank look, then admitted, “Louise wouldn’t say. I know that seems a little odd, but she told me she was escaping her past and just wanted to live in the present.”
He took Caprice’s arm and pulled her away from everyone, including Malina.
“Louise never talked about her past and didn’t want me to know anything about it. She simply said she had no family and she’d had a disastrous marriage when she was younger. The man died. But she wou
ldn’t say more. And the truth is, I loved her so much, I didn’t care. Let’s face it. I had secrets, too, and I didn’t want to spill those. Past romances just weigh down what two people have now. Full disclosure isn’t always best.”
That might be true. But what about the practical aspect? “When you apply for a marriage license, past paperwork has to be disclosed—divorce, death.”
“I dealt with that. I set up a private appointment for Louise with the marriage license clerk.” Chet was thoughtful for a moment. “Do you think her past had something to do with her murder?”
A shadowy past could definitely have something to do with murder. “It might. Do you have your marriage record?” She remembered her mother had often said something about keeping hers in a safe deposit box.
“I have it in my safe,” Chet revealed. “But it doesn’t say much. Just that Louise was a widow and her husband’s date of death.”
The date wouldn’t do Caprice much good unless she discovered where Louise had been widowed.
Suddenly their attention was taken up by a woman at the kneeler in front of the casket who had started crying. Caprice recognized her in her smart navy dress with the lace collar and cuffs.
Chet said, “Gail’s taking it hard. She and Louise were close, too.”
Gail Schwartz left the kneeler and ducked behind the flower arrangements. “I’ll see if I can help,” Caprice offered and went to Gail.
When Caprice reached her, Gail shook her head. “Sorry, I didn’t mean for that to happen.”
“This is hard,” Caprice empathized. “No one expected anything like this to happen.”
“No,” Gail agreed. “If anything happened to Louise, I expected it to be her heart, not something so . . . violent.” Although she took a handkerchief from her navy purse and wiped her nose, she kept glancing at Chet standing with Malina.
Caprice said, “I’d never met Chet’s CFO. Do you know her?”
Gail shook her head. “No. Louise always said they were just colleagues.”
So apparently Louise had talked about Malina and Chet.
“Louise and Chet always seemed so happy,” Gail said, as if she might be doubting it now.
“They honeymooned in Hawaii, didn’t they?” Caprice asked, remembering Louise’s stories and what her mother had told her.
“They always took such romantic trips. Louise was looking forward to going to the Bahamas over Valentine’s Day.” Gail sighed. “Thirty years is a long time to be married. Even if they did have a rocky start.”
“A rocky start?” Caprice prodded, remembering what Millicent Corsi had told her.
“Louise was quite anxious about starting a relationship when she met Chet. She and I had been friends for a few months and she talked to me about getting involved with a high-powered man like Chet and what that entailed. When Chet asked her to marry him, she wasn’t sure she should. And he did propose pretty quickly. She backed off, almost broke it off.”
“Why didn’t she?” Caprice prompted.
“Because he was head over heels in love with her. He was so in love, he even showed her his bank account, and had her talk to his financial advisor. After that, Louise agreed to marry him.”
Now wasn’t that interesting? Exactly what did finances have to do with trust? Exactly why had Louise been so hesitant?
Caprice studied Gail who had tears in her eyes, as she thought about her past friendship with Louise. It seemed odd that her mom, who thought she was Louise’s best friend, hadn’t known Louise and Gail were that close. Or even this early story about Louise and Chet’s romance.
Caprice considered this new information that Louise hadn’t trusted Chet. She’d been in her early twenties when she’d met him. What had happened to make her not trust easily?
Glancing over at Chet and Malina once more, Caprice decided a visit to Pearl Mellencamp was in order. She’d have to fit that into her schedule tomorrow.
York was a city with tons of neighborhoods, from rich to poor, and everything in between. There were shopping centers and malls in the east end, the west end, and the north end. There were two hospitals and urban sprawl that crawled into what once had been beautiful farmland. Whatever residents of Kismet couldn’t find in their town, they could find in York. Caprice had staged houses here, but not in the section of town where she and Nikki and Lady were headed now.
“I can’t believe you were going to drive over here by yourself and question this woman you’ve never met who might hold a grudge,” Nikki berated her from the passenger seat.
“I was going to bring Lady along,” Caprice joked.
Lady heard her name and barked from her crate in the back.
But Nikki wasn’t laughing. “You’ve got to be careful this time, Caprice. You know you do. Mom would never forgive herself if you put yourself in a situation where you got hurt.”
This morning they’d sat beside their mom in the pew at St. Francis during the funeral Mass. At the cemetery, their dad had escorted their mom to one of the chairs Chet had designated for their use. As the cold wind blew, they’d all stood behind their mother, each of them with a hand on her shoulder as the priest had said his final words, as everyone who had thought highly of Louise or loved her had taken a rose from the huge spray on top of the casket to keep as a remembrance.
“Mom and Louise were friends like you and I are,” Nikki said.
“I’m not sure about that,” Caprice responded, wishing she didn’t have to.
“What do you mean? You saw how heartbroken Mom was. Dad was, too.”
“Yes, they were. But how broken up would Louise have been if something happened to Mom?”
“What an awful thing to say!”
“It’s an awful thing to think. But I’ve been thinking it ever since Millicent Corsi told me that Gail and Louise were best friends. Mom never knew that. What else didn’t she know?”
But Nikki was still thinking about best friends. “Maybe best friends can change.”
“Do they? Really?”
They thought about the concept of best friends for a few moments until Caprice reminded Nikki, “My best friend never changed. You’ve always been my best friend.”
“That’s different, Caprice. We lived together. We loved each other. We were pals.”
“We were still two years apart, though, not in the same classes, not dating the same level of boys. Other girls could have snuck in there and put a wedge in our friendship. Bella certainly tried sometimes.”
Nikki shrugged. “We lived with the De Luca history. We knew everything there was to know about the family. We heard our aunts and uncles complain and get a little tipsy and tell things they shouldn’t. All of that bonded us in a way and made us feel even closer. So close, we could talk about anything, even with Bella. You know that’s true.”
Nikki continued. “The whole situation with Mom and Louise could have boiled down to Louise not wanting to hurt Mom, not wanting her to know she and Gail were close.”
Caprice made a left turn. “I suppose. Sometimes when we share something, we try to protect Bella.”
“It never works out, though, because she can see it on our faces. She keeps poking and prodding until she figures out what we’re holding back.”
Caprice thought about the differences between her generation and her mother’s. “Mom never would have poked and prodded with Louise. They were both women who knew what ‘classy’ meant. There just isn’t so much class around anymore. Haughtiness, maybe, but not class. Does Chet have any brothers or sisters?” Caprice asked.
“You’d have to ask Dad for sure, but I don’t think so. And I didn’t see any relatives of his there. He’s nine years older than Dad.”
“I never really delved into his business success,” Caprice mused. “I heard Dad say once that whatever Chet Downing did always turned out right . . . that he had a mind for business.”
As the GPS voice told them they had arrived at their destination on the right, Caprice pulled up to the curb and examine
d the houses along the street. Most were row houses, two stories, freshly painted. This time of year, many had some kind of Valentine’s Day decoration on the door in the form of a wreath, a bouquet, or a plastic heart.
She left her van running so it would stay heated, but she cracked her window and told Nikki to do the same.
“You should let me go to the door with you,” she advised Caprice, not for the first time.
“No. I’ll have my phone with me. You’ll be able to hear every word. Talk to Lady until I get inside so she doesn’t start barking.”
Caprice dialed Nikki’s number, then exited the van before Nikki could give her any other advice or warning. Caprice had to admit she felt a little twinge in her stomach, not knowing what she was going to find here. But her stomach would get over it, and so would she.
On the small porch, she confidently knocked on the wooden screen door. When Pearl Mellencamp opened the door, Caprice recognized her immediately, although she was older . . . and looked it. Her brown hair was turning gray, and it was all frizzy around her head as if she’d tried to give herself her own perm. She wore no make-up, ragged jeans with holes, and a sweatshirt.
“Hi,” Caprice said with a lot of energy and held out her hand.
“I’m not voting in the next election,” Pearl mumbled and started to close the door.
“Oh, I’m not a politician.”
“I’m not buying any cookies or Tupperware or wrapping paper or magazines either.”
Caprice shook her head. “I’m not selling any of those.” She reached into her purse for a business card and handed it to Pearl.
Louise’s former housekeeper glanced at it and narrowed her eyes, then said, “You’re a home stager. Do I know you?”
“It’s been a long time, but I visited Louise Downing’s house when you were her housekeeper. I have some questions.”
At that, Pearl backed up a step and attempted to close the door again.
Caprice asked quickly, “Do you know she’s dead?”
That stopped Pearl. She took a step forward, the door opening wide.
Gilt by Association Page 11