She said truthfully, “I thought you were the one who could do the best job with this.”
“Just what job do you want done, Caprice?”
“I was going over Louise’s murder with Nikki. I think we might have come up with a lead the police could have missed.”
“The forensics team as well as Jones are thorough.”
“I know they are, but just listen, okay?”
After about three heartbeats, Grant said, “I’m listening.”
“Remember when Louise ended up in the hospital the week before she was killed?”
“I remember.”
“I don’t think she had food poisoning. I think she might have been poisoned. She had lunch with someone that day, an organic chicken wrap, according to Rachel. Half of it was left in the refrigerator, but of course she threw it away after Louise was taken to the hospital.”
“Who did she have lunch with?”
“We don’t know.”
“You want me to call Jones and tell him that? That you don’t know who she had lunch with, and the chicken wrap was thrown away so it can’t be tested?”
“No, I don’t want you to tell Detective Jones that. I’m just trying to explain my theory.”
She heard a sigh of frustration.
“All right, explain.”
She told him Louise’s story, about Stacy Miller, about the threats, about Louise’s name change.
“I don’t know if Jones has dug into all that. How did you find out about the name change?” Grant wanted to know.
“Marianne Brisbane investigated for me.”
“That makes sense. So what’s the favor? You just want me to tell Jones all this because he probably wouldn’t listen to you?”
“No. It’s about the chocolates I saw at the crime scene. Louise had no reason to have an open box of chocolates on her potting bench, not with all the dirt and grime and seeds and plants. I think the murderer brought those chocolates to her. I think the murderer might have wanted her to eat them, right then, because they were laced with something. Either the same something or a different something that was in the organic chicken wrap. The box was on the potting bench. There were a couple of chocolates that had fallen on the floor. I’m sure the forensics team gathered all that up. Could you ask them if they were tested? Can you tell him to look for a plant-based substance that might have been lethal?”
“And if there is something wrong with the chocolates, you think Jones should be looking for Stacy Miller?”
“Yes, I think he should be.”
“Why would Louise have had lunch with this person?”
“Maybe Stacy was offering an olive branch. Maybe she told Louise she wanted to let bygones be bygones. I don’t know. I haven’t gotten farther than the chocolates. That’s why we need the forensics team and Detective Jones.”
“We? Because I’m your go-between?”
“No. We . . . because I know you want to see this solved as much as I do.”
“Maybe not quite as much,” he muttered. “But I do think your mom needs closure, and if this helps, I’ll call Jones.”
“Thank you, Grant.”
“No thanks necessary.”
She hesitated, but then said, “Maybe when the weather warms up a little, we can walk Patches and Lady together.”
“My caseload hasn’t lessened just because I’m working from home. It could be spring before I have time for that kind of outing.”
Or it could be summer or winter or fall. She got the message. Grant was perturbed with her, but he wouldn’t talk about why. He wouldn’t talk about anything with her right now except the Louise Downing murder case.
“Will you call me if you learn anything from Detective Jones?”
“I’ll call you if I learn anything from anybody.”
At least that was something. But as she said good-bye and ended the call, she felt deflated, even though she might be on her way to solving Louise Downing’s murder.
Caprice had no sooner put down her phone, when her doorbell rang and she heard yipping outside her front door. Another stray?
Nikki must have been thinking the same thing because she rolled her eyes and shook her head as if to say, Just what you need. Instead she asked, “Is Grant going to help?”
“He says he’ll talk to Detective Jones. We’ll see what happens next.”
Crossing to the door, Caprice opened it and her day turned a whole lot brighter. Roz was standing there and Dylan was the one yipping and hopping up and down.
Caprice missed the little dog and now she opened her door wide.
Roz held out a bag labeled with the Cupcake House. “I have the best chocolate cupcakes topped with cream cheese icing in all of Kismet. Do you have time for coffee?”
Roz watched her weight judiciously. She only bought cupcakes when she was stressed. She must be stressed about something and Caprice guessed what.
She waved toward the living room. “Nikki’s here, too.”
“I have more than enough,” Roz said, coming inside after Dylan. “And two De Luca sisters might be just what I need in order to sleep at night again.”
Dylan and Lady circled each other twice, touched noses, then ran off to the kitchen where Lady’s dish still had a few crunchies. Dylan remembered that’s where his food had been dished out, too.
“I’m glad they get along,” Roz said as she sat on the sofa next to Nikki.
Caprice asked, “Talk first, coffee later? Or both at the same time?”
“I could eat a dozen of those cupcakes right now. Let’s talk and eat,” Roz said in the same tone she used for business negotiations. She must really be stressed.
As always, her friend looked like a model. She’d taken her coat off and thrown it over the oak mirrored bench in the foyer. Underneath the cream long wool coat, she wore an impeccably beautiful pale blue cashmere sweater and pale blue wool slacks. Sapphire studs in her ears were understated, but definitely expensive as was the matching ring on her finger. Her leather shoe boots were probably Italian made, and her purse was Prada. Roz had wonderful taste and Caprice admired that. It was so different from her own.
“I already have a pot of coffee on.”
Nikki and Roz were discussing the latest issue of Marie Claire magazine when Caprice brought in all of their filled mugs.
Mug in hand, Roz looked first to Caprice and then at Nikki. “I need more than a little advice about your brother.”
Exactly what Caprice had suspected. She exchanged a look with Nikki. “And you think we’re qualified to give it?”
Roz gave a small chuckle. “As well as any two sisters are. You know him much better than I do.”
“Some days,” Nikki contributed, in an amused tone. “Neither Caprice nor I seem to understand men very well right now. They’re an enigma, and that includes Vince. But we’ll help any way we can.”
Sophia, who had climbed her cat tree, jumped from the highest platform to the second highest to the lowest, and then sauntered over to the sofa as if to join in the conversation. She jumped up onto the back atop the afghan Nana had crocheted and stretched out behind Nikki.
Nikki gave the cat a chin rub. “Just what do you want to know?”
Dylan and Lady suddenly dashed through the living room, heading around the circle to Caprice’s office. Obviously they’d finished the crunchies and were now looking for entertainment.
“I want to know what’s in his head.”
Caprice nodded to the cupcakes. “You’d better have a couple of those. No one’s ever mapped Vince’s head, and if you think Nikki and I have a GPS through it, you’re wrong.”
“I thought he was dating Lonnie Hippensteel,” Roz blurted out.
“He brought her to Mom’s birthday party at the beginning of the summer, and he dated her a couple of times,” Caprice admitted. “But I saw Lonnie when I was Christmas shopping in December, and she gave me the impression they’d parted ways and weren’t connecting again. Truthfully, Roz, over the past year, Vi
nce’s dating habits have slowed down. Nana used to tease him that he dated a different woman every weekend. I don’t think that’s true anymore. What do you think, Nik?”
“Like most men, Vince doesn’t give much away,” Nikki remarked. “But like Caprice, I don’t see him dating as much. He joined Shape Up, but I really think it’s to work out, not to hit on women. He seems quieter at our family dinners. He told me he felt honored that Joe and Bella asked him to be Benny’s godfather.”
“Did you have a good time at the Valentine’s Day dance?” Caprice asked.
“We had a great time. And afterward . . . when he walked me to my door . . . he kissed me! That’s why I’m so confused.”
“I guess Vince had a good time, too,” Nikki said with a shrug.
“He called last night and asked me out again.”
“Oh,” Nikki intoned, as if she understood it all now. “You want to know if this is going someplace.”
“I want to know if it should go someplace,” Roz returned. “It hasn’t been a year since Ted died.”
Long before Ted’s death, he and Roz had been having problems. Not merely problems, but he’d been having an affair. Wondering if this was a trust issue, rather than a grief issue that was bothering her friend, she asked, “What do you want advice about? Whether or not you should see Vince? Do you want him to be serious? Do you want to be serious?”
Roz shook her head and reached for a cupcake. “I don’t know. I thought he just asked me to the dance so we’d have a good time.”
“And you did,” Nikki reminded her.
“But you kissed,” Caprice added. “And that’s what changed everything.”
“Vince asking me out again is what changed everything.”
Nikki reached for a cupcake, too. “What kind of date?”
“He wants to take me on a tour of a winery, and then go out to dinner.”
Lady and Dylan dashed through the living room again, this time the bigger dog chasing the smaller dog. They ruffled the throw rug and it went sliding across the hardwood floor. But Caprice was used to such antics. What she wasn’t used to was her brother possibly being serious about her friend.
“I could talk to him,” she offered.
But Roz’s response was immediate. “No, don’t do that. If I have questions, I’ll have to ask him myself. I guess I just have to be clear about what I want.”
“And that is?” Nikki and Caprice asked at the same time.
“I don’t want to get hurt. I want to know that Vince and I are on the same page. I never want to fall for a man like Ted again.”
“Vince isn’t like Ted,” Caprice assured her. “He has a good heart.”
“But we’re prejudiced,” Nikki chimed in. “He’s our brother.”
Caprice reached over and patted Roz’s hand. “And you’re our friend. If you and Vince have fun at the winery tour, then you need to have a long talk at dinner and figure out what both of you want.”
As Roz nodded, Caprice realized she should be taking her own advice. Maybe she and Grant should have one of those long talks, too.
Caprice loved the rawness of the inside of the Sherwood Forest-themed house as she stood in its great room on Saturday. The owners had chosen not to be here for the open house, and she understood that. Although the list of guests was impressive, from a few millionaires from New York to a celebrity home shopping idol to anyone who inveigled themselves onto a real estate agent’s list to acquire an invitation, Caprice knew it was difficult for homeowners to see their house toured by strangers. Especially after it was staged, it was then no longer really theirs.
Nikki was setting up in the kitchen with her waitstaff who looked like actors from a Robin Hood movie. Caprice always liked these moments when she was relatively alone in the staged house, simply admiring its beauty. In this case, the main eye-catching draw was the exposed eight-inch round beams lining the slanted ceiling two stories above. The stone fireplace was two stories high and automatically took an onlooker’s gaze to those beams. She’d taken advantage of the ceiling appeal and added two foot-long lighting fixtures that resembled old-time lanterns. They added drama. The cavernous living room consisted mostly of wood, from the knotty-pine paneled walls to the distressed plank flooring.
The homeowners’ furnishings had been modern comfortable and hadn’t gone with the ambiance of the place at all. She’d mostly removed those, adding a twelve-by-twelve-foot woven rug in brown and taupe, its fringes extending a foot on either side. The swing chairs were unusual and conversation starters. No two accent tables matched, which was the idea of their lodge-pole pine, rough-hewn allure. One of the lights was actually fashioned of copper, two others carved from logs. Rawhide shades enhanced them both. This house could easily be a retreat, away from the hustle and bustle of city life. That was a selling point she’d wanted to accent.
Nikki came into the living room and looked up at the ceiling with a sigh. “This is the kind of place I’d love to have someday. You really transformed it.”
Nikki had seen the photos Caprice had taken when she’d first accepted this house as a staged makeover.
“It looks rustic yet has all the conveniences,” Caprice agreed. “Denise should be here any minute, and two of the other real estate agents are bringing clients. I’m glad the weather cooperated or we would have had to eat all your steak and kidney pie ourselves.”
“Food’s almost ready.”
“I noticed Drew wasn’t with you today.”
A shadow crossed Nikki’s face. “I told him no partnership. I just didn’t think we’d work together. Not as partners, at least. And he wouldn’t try it the other way.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about.”
“Maybe you could have been more than partners.”
“And maybe we couldn’t have if he was that way about business. Goodness knows how he’d be about a romantic relationship. No, I think I escaped Cupid with my business acumen intact.”
Caprice had to smile.
“Is anybody puppy-sitting this afternoon?” Nikki asked.
“No. I left Lady in the kitchen with her Kong toy and the ball that rolls around dispensing kibble. That should keep her busy for about an hour and tire her out. Hopefully she’ll nap until I get home. I put Sophia in my bedroom so she doesn’t tease her.”
“You really miss her when she’s not with you.”
“I do. The first few months were like taking care of a baby. A trainer once said the few feet around me should be the safest and most fun place for my dog to be. And if that’s true, she’ll never want to leave my side. Well, that’s kind of true for me, too.”
Caprice’s cell phone played just as Marianne Brisbane walked in the front door.
Caprice checked the screen. It was Grant. As Marianne approached, she said, “I’ll just be a minute. Can you explore the food?”
“How do you know I didn’t come to report on the food? I haven’t done a piece on Nikki’s catering yet. I thought this might be a good time, with news being slow.”
Caprice nodded as she took a few steps away from the two women in order to take Grant’s call. “Hi, Grant. Did you talk to Detective Jones?”
“I did. He’s not giving much away. I told him what you said about the chocolates and he wondered why you didn’t call him yourself.”
“Because I didn’t think he’d want to hear from me.”
“I told him that, too.”
“Grant, you didn’t!”
“I’m honest with my police contacts, Caprice. That’s the only way we can have any give-and-take. He’s looking into whether or not the candy was analyzed. In the meantime, I did find out one thing.”
“What?”
“Chet Downing does own a gun. But it’s not the caliber that killed Louise,” he added.
“That’s good news,” she murmured, remembering Pearl had told her about Chet’s gun.
“Of sorts. But if he was planning to kill his wife, he wouldn’t
have used his own gun. He’s not a stupid man.”
“No, Chet wouldn’t have gotten as far as he had in business if he wasn’t intelligent and maybe a little ruthless. Thanks for letting me know.”
“What are you going to do next?” Grant asked.
“I’m not sure. I’m at an open house now and that’s what my mind should be on.”
“Should be?” he asked.
Impulsively she said, “You should see this place. I think it’s the kind of house you would like—lots of wood, a rustic atmosphere, a huge fireplace.”
“And a price tag that’s way out of my budget, I imagine.”
“You could look for a smaller version.”
“Do you think there is one?”
“I have contacts.”
“I have to go, Caprice. Patches is barking at the door. You know what that means.”
“You really could teach him to ring a bell. I intend to do that with Lady once she’s a little older.”
“Then I’d have bells ringing in my head. I prefer the barking. Go sell a house.”
Caprice ended the call before she reminded him that she wasn’t the one who sold the houses.
She pocketed her phone in her long, maxi-length burgundy wool skirt. The soft material of her cream-colored blouse with its wide bell sleeves flowed around her arms as she approached Marianne, who was standing at the pedestal table in the dining room taking photos of the food in the warmers on the sideboard. She said to Caprice, “The only thing I’ve heard of here is the fish and chips.”
“Nikki’s done a fantastic job again of preparing foods that complement the theme.”
Dropping her camera so that it hung on the leather band around her neck, Marianne asked, “So have you uncovered anything new about Louise’s murder?”
“No, I haven’t. Sometimes I think the whole thing is a wild-goose chase and I should leave it alone, leave it to Detective Jones. But then I remember Mom’s face and her plea for me to uncover whoever did it. I remember Louise was her good friend, maybe her best friend. I really need to figure it out, and there’s only one avenue I haven’t pursued enough yet.”
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