“How are you, honey?” she asked.
“I miss Brindle. Mom wouldn’t let me bring her. I can’t believe how they’re arguing.”
Caprice and Trista had bonded when they’d decorated her room. They’d learned to speak plainly to each other. Ace’s wife, however, didn’t know that. She looked at Caprice disdainfully, her long lashes going up and down as she studied Caprice, from her short boots, up her bell-bottoms, to her fringed Stevie-Nicks-like top.
“Are you Ace’s latest?” she asked with an edge to her voice.
But Ace cut her off, not even addressing her comment. “If you want to discuss anything, we can go to my office. If you came so Trista could hear my new song, I’m ready to play it.”
Seeing that Caprice had entered the lion’s den so to speak, Ace’s family came over now. They all greeted Trista as if they’d missed her, and wanted her to be part of this celebration tonight. Marsha backed off, and she looked quite lonely, standing all alone, gazing up at Ace as if she might still have feelings for him. Could that be possible?
Caprice felt sorry for a family torn by divorce. She was grateful Joe and Bella had been able to work on their marriage. Would it ever be as good as it once was? Maybe it could be better. The important thing was both partners wanting it to work, and being able to compromise. Would either Grant or Seth be able to do that? Could she?
Ace drew Trista up to the dais where the instruments stood while Caprice turned toward the kitchen where great smells were beginning to percolate out. Drew was helping Nikki with the catering tonight.
Feeling at loose ends, not having come with anyone, she headed into the kitchen to see if she could help. She’d stopped in there earlier and at first, Drew and Nikki had seemed to work well together. But now . . .
“I don’t plate the salad like that,” Nikki was saying. “There’s no room on the dish for guests to place anything else. It’s for hors d’oeuvres, too.”
“They can pick up one of the smaller dishes for that.”
“Those are the dessert dishes, Drew. We don’t have enough extras for everyone to have two of those dishes.”
“Why didn’t you bring extras?” he asked.
“Because that’s not the way I work. I work efficiently—packing up, serving, washing, taking home. That’s the best way to run a business.”
Uh oh. Rippling waters in the calm of hearts and flowers. Valentine’s Day was indeed past.
Drew glared at Nikki. “You don’t want a partner. You want your twin.” And with that, he slammed a dish on the counter, spun around, and headed for one of the sliding glass doors that led to the patio and pool.
Nikki shook her head. “I don’t know what’s wrong with him tonight. He’s just . . . off.”
“Have you known him well enough to know that?”
“I knew his reputation. He’s not a hothead.”
“Maybe you’re just annoying him.”
Nikki plopped her hands on her hips. “And why would that be?”
“Maybe because he’s attracted to you, and you are to him?”
Nikki’s golden eyes grew wide, her mouth opened a little, and she looked startled by the idea.
“It makes sense, Nik. He might not like taking orders from a woman he’s attracted to.”
“He’s the one who wanted the job,” she murmured.
“Maybe so. I guess it depends if you want a business partner or if you want another kind of partner.”
Nikki sighed. “I want a life.”
“Tough call. Do you want me to talk to him?”
“No, I will, as soon as Ace plays his new song. We have to be ready to serve, and I have to know he’ll be here and not mess things up.”
“If you want him to serve tonight, you’d better not go out there with guns blazing.”
“What do you want me to do, be coy?”
“Coy isn’t in your repertoire. Just be honest, but be a kind honest.”
“Kind and honest. I suppose they can go together. But if that doesn’t work, you might see him hitchhiking back to town.”
Caprice laughed, and made her way back to the living room to a front and center seat where she could listen the best to Ace’s new song.
Her thumb was itching to pull her smartphone from her pocket and read what Marianne had sent her. However, it could be a while before she could give her full attention to it, which was what she needed to do. Dulcina was pup-sitting Lady tonight. Caprice would have to pick her up and settle Sophia in for the night before she could fish through info about Lucy Russell Mathers.
Dulcina was pup-sitting Lady at her house. Although all Caprice wanted to do was attach Lady’s leash, take her for a final night tour of the yard, and then settle at her computer, she’d been taught better than to simply rush off with a brief thank-you.
Besides, Dulcina seemed to want to talk because she asked, “How about some hot chocolate?”
As Lady stood looking up at Caprice, she gave her pet a few strokes around her ears and said, “Sure. Hot chocolate on a night like this is perfect.”
Dulcina led Caprice and Lady through her living room, furnished with a gray and blue comfortable-looking couch and armchair, into her kitchen that was color blocked in blue and white. She definitely liked blue!
“Have a seat,” Dulcina suggested, waving to her white wooden table and chair set that could make room for four. “I have one of those coffeemakers that brew a cup at a time. But I have hot chocolate pods and cider ones, too.”
“Nikki suggested I might like a brewer like that. But when my family comes over, we need a whole pot.”
“I understand that. I didn’t get a chance yet to make coffee for me and Rod.”
“So that’s his name,” Caprice responded with a smile. Then remembering the Valentine’s Day dance, she remarked, “I saw the two of you leave the dance.”
Dulcina frowned. “We were having such a good time. But then his sitter called and told him his thirteen-year-old wanted to go to a friend’s house. Rod didn’t want his daughter going out so late and when he said no, his daughter started crying. He felt he had to go home and take care of the situation.”
“Did you go with him?” Caprice asked gently.
Dulcina shook her head. “He brought me home first. I don’t think he’s ready to let me meet his daughters.”
All too well, Caprice remembered dating Travis a good three months before she’d met his four-year-old. As soon as she had, Krista had stolen her heart. Their breakup had seemed all the worse because she’d had to sever her relationship with Krista, too. She wondered about Ace’s relationship with his ex-wife. Was he still attracted to her? Did he still feel connected because of Trista?
“Did you feel it was too soon?” Caprice asked.
“Oh, I agreed. We have to get to know each other better before he introduces me to them. They don’t seem to mind him dating, but he’s told me he hasn’t brought many women home.”
“That means he puts his girls first.”
“I suppose,” Dulcina agreed reluctantly. “But I don’t just want to be a ruffle in his life, either.”
A ruffle in his life. Caprice liked that phrase. She realized she didn’t want to be a ruffle in Seth’s life either. She glanced at the charm bracelet she wore now almost every day.
“Did you ever date a man with children?” Dulcina asked as she took one mug away from the beverage brewer, and moved another into position, adding a new hot chocolate pod.
“I did. Krista was four and we became pals right away. But he and his ex got back together.” Although she and Dulcina had been friendly neighbors since Caprice had moved in across the street, they hadn’t shared this type of history before.
“Rod’s wife walked out years ago. That’s why he has custody. She doesn’t even live in Pennsylvania anymore.” The brewer made a squirting noise again and then dispensed a second mug of hot chocolate.
“You sound as if you’ve had some serious discussions.”
“We have.
But enough about me. I saw you sitting beside your brother’s law partner. But then you were dancing with your doctor friend. Are you dating both?”
“Oh, no! I’m not dating Grant.”
“I see,” Dulcina said with an almost imperceptible smile.
Why did everyone think there was something between her and Grant besides . . . friendship?
Because they could see it?
Just as she’d seen the connection between Chet and Malina?
No. She and Grant had never even . . . touched. She and Grant had gone sleuthing together. Their minds sometimes worked along similar paths. He had protected her family . . . and he’d protected her.
She sighed. Concentrating on Chet and Louise’s marriage as well as Louise’s background would be a lot more advantageous than thinking about or discussing her own love life . . . or lack thereof.
Chapter Sixteen
Caprice understood about delayed gratification, and she could practice it when she had to. Her life sometimes seemed to be a list of priority making.
The temperature had dropped even more significantly just in the past half hour. When Caprice took Lady to her backyard for a last nightly potty trip, she wondered if she should buy one of those cute little coats for her dog. Doggie fashion was trending right now.
From the moment Lady went down the back porch steps, she acted differently than she usually did. Caprice suspected it was the cold. Her dog hung around the little porch for a while, which was unexpected behavior.
But then Caprice said, “Lady, go potty.”
When Lady looked at her again, she repeated, “Go potty.” Her dog went to the patch of yard Caprice had cleared.
As Caprice breathed in the night air, it practically burned her lungs. The temperature could drop into the teens tonight. She thought about cleaning up after Lady, but she’d just have to do it in the morning.
She found her scooper at the side of the porch, pulled a bag from a box inside the garage, and went down the steps to take care of the yard. Lady was snuffling around as she did. But as Caprice went to the doggie-doo trash keeper, Lady’s snuffling increased to a low whine. She slid between the porch and the shrubs along the back of the house.
Uh oh. A creature of the night? A raccoon? A possum?
She called to Lady, but Lady didn’t come. In fact, she looked over her shoulder at Caprice and then pointed her nose back into the shrubs. It was as if she was telling Caprice she wanted her to come look there, too.
Not knowing what she’d find, Caprice crossed the yard over to Lady’s side of the porch. As she got closer to her dog, she heard the tiny sound.
Meee-ow, meee-ow.
Uh oh, what had Lady found? It was so cold out here. If it was a feral cat, it would run as soon as Caprice got near it. But if it was an animal who needed help—
Caprice couldn’t not go look. Crouching down on the ground, she pushed the branches on the evergreen aside, and there she found a tiny, gray tabby that couldn’t be more than six weeks old.
“Oh, baby.” As she reached for the kitten, it tried to run deeper under the bush but Caprice was quick. She caught it in her glove and lifted it into her arms.
“You can’t stay out here, little one. Oh my goodness, how did you get here?”
She glanced around at her fenced-in yard, the tall trees on either side of her house, and she didn’t think about any of it too long. She had to get this baby inside and warm her up, feed her, take care of her. Tomorrow would be time enough to figure out where she’d come from. Right now Caprice had to make sure she was okay.
As she hurried up the steps and tapped her hip for Lady to follow, commanding, “Come,” her mind went a mile a minute. She had some milk substitute from when she’d taken care of kittens last summer. It was powder and she could mix it with warm water. She might still have a couple of cans of kitten food in her pantry, too. If not, Sophia’s would have to do for now. She’d just make sure it was minced up really well and add a little water to it to make certain this little one wasn’t dehydrated. That could happen in winter as well as in summer, with no water source for a stray animal to drink from.
Underlying all that, though, she knew she had to separate the kitten from her other animals. She could have fleas, ear mites, worms, or all of the above. The best place to keep the kitten was probably the downstairs bathroom. Everything in it could be washed and there was a heat vent beside the sink. A carton from her garage would make a good bed if she lined it with towels. She always had an extra litter box on hand because she never knew when a stray might come along.
At the bathroom door, she said to Lady, “Down.” Lady reluctantly lay down. Still holding the kitten, heaping praise on her cocker, Caprice then said, “Stay.” Lady didn’t move.
Caprice went inside the bathroom and closed the door.
The kitten barely filled her hand. She quickly took off her gloves and held the little animal close to her chest, near her body heat. The kitten snuggled right up against her, obviously needing love, attention, and warmth. Caprice sat on the stool at the vanity table and just held the little fuzzy animal, stroking her chin, trying to assess if she was okay. Quickly she took the hand towel from the rack alongside the sink. After she laid it on the floor under the vanity, she placed the kitten on it.
“I’ll be right back, I promise. I have to get you everything you need. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”
Tomorrow she’d call Marcus and take the kitten in to him for an examination. Valentine’s Day was over. But when the kitten looked up at her, with its little heart-shaped face, Caprice smiled. “You’re an unexpected belated Valentine’s Day gift.”
The kitten meowed, and Caprice lost her heart to an animal all over again.
Caprice poured litter into the litter box, mixed food with water, smashing it really well, and filled a hot water bottle, wrapping it in a towel. She tucked that into a box filled with more towels and with a little clock that ticked like a mom’s beating heart.
The kitten fell asleep as Caprice stroked her. Rising from the floor, she looked down at the teeny, gray tabby and said, “I dub you Valentine. It only seems fitting. Maybe it is a few days after Valentine’s Day, but you’re a heart-tugger. Sleep well, baby. I’ll check on you in a few hours.”
Hopefully Marcus could fit in her and the kitten tomorrow. Tonight Valentine would be warm with her needs met. In the meantime, Caprice had a murder investigation to continue and some new information to study.
Sophia and Lady stood outside the door to the bathroom as Caprice let herself out. “No contact for you two. Even if all is well with Valentine, it will be at least a few days. So come on, I have to wash up and then we have work to do.”
Lady followed Caprice to the kitchen and then her office. Sophia was a little slower but decided to go where the action was, too. A few minutes later, Caprice sat at her computer, Lady on the floor beside her, Sophia on the printer.
Marianne had sent her a splash of articles about Lucy Russell from thirty years ago and Caprice read the story with interest. It read like a novel.
Copying and pasting from what Marianne had e-mailed her, she moved related sentences into a word processing document so she could study them more thoroughly. Of primary concern was the fact that Lucy had been a young heiress of sorts.
Lucy’s parents had died in a plane crash, and she had received the insurance money. A human interest story had been written in an Austin paper, and Caprice read it with avid interest.
At age twenty, missing her parents, Lucy had left a private college and lived in the family home, tending to the roses her mother dearly loved. She’d been bereft and lost in grief. But this human interest story wouldn’t have been of much interest if it had stopped there. Oh, no, the paper had written this story for another reason entirely. The reporter had gone on to say that a few months after her loss, Miss Russell attended a seminar on gardening at the community college. The guest lecturer had been Troy Mathers, a landscape expert from Killeen, T
exas. Lonely and grieving, Miss Russell fell in love with him and they were engaged.
Caprice had the distinct foreboding this wasn’t going to be a happily-ever-after story.
Not only were Lucy and Troy engaged, but they married at a justice of the peace. Two months later—
Troy Mathers had drained Lucy Russell Mathers’s bank account, stolen gold coins and jewelry she’d protected in a safe, and fled. Lucy called the police. The authorities caught him and the whole sorry tale came out.
At the end of that article, the reporter stated Mrs. Mathers refused to comment.
That had been that article, but in a follow-up a week later, the same reporter went on to fill in details. Apparently, Mathers had been living with a woman in Killeen and had a child with her. His nursery business had been failing. He’d courted Lucy for the express purpose of stealing her money. He saw Lucy’s inheritance as a way to start a new life with a woman he really loved. Those were his words. Apparently, he hadn’t been as reluctant as Lucy to tell his story now that he’d been caught. He’d been on his way to Mexico when he’d been apprehended. At that time, he’d confessed that his lover, Stacy Miller, had intended to pack up their child and meet him in a border town. However, the reporter added, the authorities couldn’t prove that his lover had been his accomplice. Mathers accepted a plea agreement and was sent to prison. Stacy Miller had gone free.
Caprice quickly scrolled to the third article, three months later. Troy Mathers had been killed in prison. Lucy again had no prepared comment, but her lawyer had spoken for her. He’d said that his client had been devastated over everything that had happened.
Marianne had also found another follow-up story with the headline, LOCAL RESIDENT RECEIVES DEATH THREATS, dated a few weeks later. Caprice quickly scanned it, cutting and pasting as she went. There had been a dead rat in Lucy’s mailbox, with a You Will Die note. Nasty harassing phone calls had interrupted her days and nights. Of course, Stacy Miller had been the main suspect. She’d been questioned but not charged. There was a fuzzy paparazzi-style photo of Stacy exiting the police station. But she was hardly recognizable in the old clipping.
Gilt by Association Page 19