Silence of the Lamps

by Karen Rose Smith

  “I know exactly what you mean.” Slowly approaching the condo, Caprice said, “Hi there, Halo. Do you like it here?”

  The purring cat gave her a slanted-eye look that wasn’t either cautious or accepting. It was quite serene, really.

  “That first night I wasn’t too sure how she’d be in here,” Dulcina explained. “She went from window to window and looked like she wanted to go back out. She meowed. But I just talked to her softly and kept showing her the litter box. I closed the blinds and stayed in here with her and read. Finally she just sat too and then fell asleep. She looked exhausted.”

  “The trauma of being captured and taken to the vet could have exhausted her. But you have to remember, being outside, she was never safe where she slept. She probably always slept with one eye open. Feral or stray cats have to be vigilant constantly. Are you going to keep her in here?”

  “Just for today yet. The flea treatment should have done its thing by now, according to the pamphlets the vet gave you. I’ll wash up the sunroom really well and then let her explore. I’ll watch to see her favorite places and then put a bin nearby. Maybe I’ll put one in two different places.”

  “She might like someplace darker than the sunroom to have her babies.”

  “That’s what I read. I’m thinking in the kitchen. I can move the chair away from my little desk nook and put the bin under there. She should feel safe.”

  “It sounds as if you have all the bases covered.” Caprice walked closer to Halo and then stretched out her hand, very slowly. The cat eyed her warily but didn’t jump or move away. She sniffed a few times, then folded her paws underneath her.

  “You’re a beautiful girl,” Caprice said to her. “After good food and loving, you’ll make a great companion.”

  “I talked to Rod last night and told him about her.”

  “And?” Caprice prompted.

  “And he told his girls right while we were on the phone. Vanna even got on the phone to ask me about her. She’s the younger one.”

  “So kittens could be a bonding experience with them too.”

  “I can hope. Nothing else has been. The concert on Sunday might be, but I won’t know how they’re going to react until we’re there. On the other hand, who can resist kittens?”

  Caprice laughed. “Lots of people can.”

  “I still have so much to learn. From what I read, I shouldn’t handle them if I don’t have to for two weeks, except to weigh them and that kind of thing. And I don’t think I’d let anybody else touch them for a month, especially not anyone who hasn’t been around animals.”

  “That sounds about right.”

  “I am nervous about being a midwife, though.”

  “You don’t have to do it on your own. I can give you Marcus’s number. And you can call me if you need me. I’ve never delivered kittens, but I’ve helped to deliver pups.”

  That brought back bittersweet memories. She and Grant . . . delivering Lady’s litter. Caprice had found Lady’s mom in her mother’s tomato garden. She’d named her Shasta because she was the color of Caprice’s daisies. When Caprice had found her owners, however, she learned that Shasta’s real name was Honey.

  “I thought of asking around to see if anyone wanted a kitten,” Dulcina said, studying Halo. “But I don’t want to be superstitious about this. I’m just going to wait until they’re born. Then I’ll go from there. I know for sure I want to keep one of them with Halo.”

  For Halo’s sake, as well as Dulcina’s, Caprice hoped all went well. Dulcina was definitely invested in the process.

  Caprice lowered herself into one of the lawn chairs Dulcina had arranged in the sunroom. The blue-and-green-flowered cushion was comfortable.

  Dulcina sat in the chair beside her. “Would you like coffee? Vanilla hazelnut.”

  Caprice laughed. “You’ve convinced me.”

  Dulcina was already on her feet. “You just stay there and commune with Halo. I’ll get us some.”

  About five minutes later, Dulcina returned with two mugs. She handed one to Caprice. “I hope it’s right. A dab of sugar and a couple of teaspoons of milk.”

  “You’ve got it.”

  After Dulcina was seated, Caprice asked, “Are you going to the raspberry festival?”

  “I don’t know. I think I’m going to stay close to home for the next month, except for short errands . . . and the concert. I want to make sure Halo is okay.”

  “How about Rod?”

  “I don’t see him that often as it is. It’s rare that the girls don’t have to be run here, there, and everywhere on a weekend. He doesn’t like me to be too involved in that, or else the girls don’t want me to be involved. I’m not sure which it is.”

  “They play soccer, right?”

  “They do.”

  “Maybe he feels it would be boring for you to sit at their games. Have you told him you want to go?”

  “Not really. I didn’t want to push in where I wasn’t wanted.”

  “If you don’t ask or push, he might not know you’re interested in the girls’ welfare as well as his.”

  “That’s a thought.” She paused, looked at Halo and then out the window at the sunny end-of-June day. “Even though he’s been divorced for a long time, I don’t know if he’s ready for a relationship.”

  “I can relate to that,” Caprice said before she thought better of it.

  “But you’re dating Grant now. Aren’t you two becoming more serious?”

  “I thought we were. But his ex-wife’s coming to town and he’s going to see her. He feels as if he has to.”

  “And you’re worried he’s not ending anything.”

  “Something like that. There’s this wall up between us now. And until she comes and goes, I can’t see either of us jumping over it.”

  “Don’t be out of touch with him,” Dulcina counseled. “You need to stay connected.”

  “But that hurts when I don’t know what he wants,” Caprice admitted to Dulcina and herself.

  “Maybe you could text him ‘Thinking of you’ or something like that.”

  “With a little heart?” Caprice almost joked.

  “Don’t get too flowery about it. But just let him know you want it to work.”

  “Are you doing that with Rod?” Caprice asked slyly. “Does he know you want to get close to his girls? Not just because you want to date him, but because you want to mother them?”

  “I don’t know if they want to be mothered.”

  “Everyone wants to be mothered whether they’ll admit it or not,” Caprice suggested.

  “A lot will depend on their going to the concert and their reaction to it.”

  “Don’t put any expectations on it, or you won’t have fun yourself. If they see you and Rod having fun, that can make a difference too. Surely they want their dad to be happy.”

  “Are girls that age that unselfish?”

  “If he’s raised them to care about others, they might be.”

  Halo suddenly rose, stretched, then studied the two of them.

  “She has such long legs,” Caprice said.

  “If you watch how she sits there,” Dulcina noted, “you can see that she’s crooked. That one back leg folds up higher than the other one. And when she walks, there’s a slight limp there.”

  “She’s a lucky kitty to have survived some kind of accident. The wonderful thing is that she’s not wild or nasty. Even at the clinic, she let Marcus examine her and didn’t put up a fuss. There’s a resignation about her. Or maybe it’s just serenity. I don’t know.”

  Halo jumped down off the condo and went to a bowl that held a few kitten crunchies. She gobbled them up quickly as if someone might take them if she didn’t.

  “She hasn’t sat on the chairs yet,” Dulcina observed. “It’s as if she’s just used to the ground, and maybe trees. I guess that’s why she likes the condo.”

  Halo made a turn around the room, stopped at the door leading into the kitchen and living room, then went to si
t on the rug that Dulcina had laid in front of the French door.

  “Have you found out anything more about who might have killed Drew Pierson?”

  “I met a couple of his friends at the funeral reception. And his sister seems to already be numbering her grandmother’s possessions for when she inherits.” Caprice shook her head. “I shouldn’t have said that. You didn’t hear me say that.”

  Dulcina laughed. “If it’s true, then maybe she has a motive. What kind of person is she?”

  “I’m not exactly sure. She seemed volatile. On the other hand, inviting an antiques dealer to the funeral reception is calculating.”

  “And Drew’s friends?”

  “From what I could tell after spending just a few minutes with them, Bronson Chronister seems like an interesting guy. He comes from money. His father made Happy Camper RV Center into a huge success. Bronson’s taken over now.”

  “Camping,” Dulcina said with disgust. “Not something I want to contemplate.”

  “From what Bronson says, the newest campers have every convenience. It’s not the camping in a tent experience. It’s more like staying in your own hotel room on wheels and seeing the surrounding sights experience.”

  “I wonder if Rod has ever thought about doing that with his daughters. Do you think you can rent them?” Dulcina asked.

  “You want to be cooped up with Rod, a teen, and a preteen for a weekend?” Caprice returned.

  “That does sound pretty unsettling. And once the kittens are born, they’ll probably need me twenty-four hours a day.”

  Caprice wondered if Dulcina wasn’t using the idea of Halo and her kittens to give herself an out with Rod in case things didn’t work out. Could they be an excuse for her not to get more involved? Maybe she wasn’t any more ready than he was.

  “If I’m prying, just tell me to butt out. But you never talk about your first marriage.” Caprice knew Dulcina had been a young widow but not the details of what had happened.

  “It was a wonderful marriage,” Dulcina assured Caprice. “And I don’t say that looking back with rose-colored glasses. Johnny was perfect for me, and I seemed perfect for him. Once we met in high school, we knew we were going to be together forever. But I learned the hard way that forever is for fairy tales. An icy road and a drunk driver coming at him . . . he didn’t have a chance for forever . . . and neither did I.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I try not to think about it anymore,” Dulcina said with a sudden catch in her voice. “I still miss him so much. And the truth is, I don’t think I’ll ever find anything like that relationship again. We were soul mates. How do you have a second act to that?”

  “I guess you start by deciding if you want a second act. Do you?”

  “I think I do. Being alone sucks after awhile. I’m not afraid to be alone but, on the other hand, I don’t want to settle for less than I had.” She sighed. “If you play armchair psychologist with me, you’ll have a field day. You’d say I’m not pushing things with Rod because I might not want to.”

  Dulcina didn’t need her to play psychologist. She’d already come to important realizations on her own. “Right now, I’m not the one to give any advice.”

  “Maybe I should help you solve a murder instead of worrying about my relationship woes.”

  “I have a feeling when those kittens arrive, you won’t have much time for anything else.”

  “I see that as a good thing,” Dulcina decided. “If I lower my expectations with Rod and concentrate on the kittens, maybe karma will take care of itself.”

  That was the thing with karma. The universe was made up of actions and reactions. Every action caused a reaction. So if you did nothing, were there no reactions?

  Either the murder or worrying about Grant was getting to her. “I have a feeling I’m going to be over here watching those kittens a lot. Then both of us can forget about everything else.”

  Was that possible?

  In about a month she’d find out.

  * * *

  Raspberries were definitely in the air on Saturday. Grocery Fresh had commandeered the town park for their festival. Their stand with quart boxes of raspberries sent the sweet aroma into the whole area, or so it seemed.

  Caprice held Lady’s leash loosely as she watched everyone with interest. Lady trotted along beside her, nosing the ground around the food and craft stands.

  Caprice, Bella, and Nana submitted their desserts to a tent for judging in the late afternoon. Bella’s raspberry trifle, Caprice’s raspberry bread, and Nana’s raspberry shortcake were given numbers. The judges would have no idea who had prepared the desserts. Winners would be announced right before the chicken barbecue stand began serving dinners.

  As they were leaving the tent, Nikki ran up to them. “Sorry I’m late. I was doing cold calls, trying to line up more clients.”

  “Did any pan out?” Caprice asked.

  “One out of twenty,” Nikki admitted.

  Bella patted her shoulder. “Ace Richland’s concert tomorrow might be good for all of us. Joe and I badly need a date night. And you need to forget about work and Drew Pierson’s murder.” She checked her watch. “I’m going to meet Joe at the playground so I can watch Benny while he and the kids can have a little fun,” Bella told her. “I’ll catch up to you later.” She waved to them and headed off toward the swings.

  Nana squeezed Nikki’s hand. “How are you holding up?”

  “I’m fine. Caprice and I are going to do a little sleuthing.”

  Nana narrowed her eyes at them. “Nothing that will catch too much attention, I hope.”

  “Caprice always attracts attention,” Nikki teased. “Look at her outfit.”

  Juan had said the same thing! Was she that conspicuous? Today she’d worn a flowing, beaded paisley Bohemian-style top over white clamdiggers reminiscent of the fifties. She’d left her jeweled flip-flops at home and chosen a pair of white leather sandals instead. This was a fairly conservative outfit for her.

  “You can see the lime green and fuchsia in that top coming and going,” Nana continued to joke.

  “You’re all taking lessons from Bella, and I don’t like it,” Caprice complained.

  Nana gave her a hug. “You know we’re just teasing. We love the way you dress. I suppose you’re just going to mingle and ask questions, and that’s fine. Nobody has to know you’re doing the detectives’ work.”

  “We’re not doing the detectives’ work,” Nikki protested. “I’m sure Brett is doing a fine job on his own.”

  Nana eyed Nikki thoughtfully. “Brett, is it?”

  Nikki blushed. “We’re not on a first name basis, but I wouldn’t mind if we would be. The title Detective Carstead just seems so formal.”

  Caprice dropped to a crouch to give Lady attention. The pup looked up at her adoringly. “Murder investigations are always formal.”

  Nana gave Nikki a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll talk to you about this Detective Carstead when you’re no longer on his list of persons of interest to be questioned. I’m meeting Darla Watson over at her knitting stand. She makes these adorable little hats for babies. She’s going to show me how. See you in a while.”

  Straightening up, Caprice watched Nana walk toward the knitters’ stand. “Where do you want to start?” Caprice asked Nikki after Nana had strolled away.

  “Let’s just make the rounds. If we see anybody we know, we’ll stop and chat. The murder will probably crop up.”

  They meandered from one stand to another slowly, appreciating the hanging baskets filled with geraniums, the craft stand with raspberry-patterned runners for tables, and another with shawls that had embroidered raspberries dotting the wool.

  Caprice thought she recognized someone trying on a shawl. When the brunette with the pageboy turned around, Caprice smiled. “Hey, Helen. I haven’t seen you for a while.” Helen Parcelli had been in her high school class.

  Helen twirled in the shawl and asked Caprice, “What do you think?”


  “I think it’s pretty and would keep you warm on a cool night. How are you doing?” The last she’d heard, Helen was in charge of advertising at the Kismet Crier.

  “My hours were cut again. I only want to work part-time because of the kids, but pretty soon I’m going to have to look for something else. Eight hours a week just isn’t enough.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Nikki said. “Could you get a job on the York newspaper?”

  “It’s possible. But my salary isn’t that great, and I’m beginning to think maybe I’d like to try something else.”

  “What kind of something else?” Caprice asked.

  Lady nosed around Helen’s shoes and Helen dropped down to pet her. “Hey, girl.” Then she gave her attention back to Caprice. “Maybe marketing. It’s a whole new world out there now, incorporating social media into advertising. I was thinking of becoming a social media consultant for businesses. It’s not just celebrities who need them anymore.”

  “That’s an interesting concept,” Caprice responded, meaning it. “Nikki and I are trying to grow her business, and we’ve tapped into the social media world. But it’s rough getting a foothold.”

  “You have to know the right outlets to push the word out. Do you want me to try to secure a couple of well-placed ads for your catering business?” Helen asked Nikki.

  “I don’t have much of a budget,” Nikki warned her.

  “Let me see what I can find out.” After Helen and Nikki exchanged numbers, Helen studied the shawl again that she’d thrown around her shoulders. “This might be nice topping a sundress for the reunion. Are you going?” she asked Caprice.

  “I’m on the development committee, so yes, I’ll be there.” Originally she’d expected the reunion to be a happy occasion, that she’d take Grant as her guest. But now, Grant might not be accompanying her.

  “You know the gossip will be all over the reunion about Drew Pierson,” Helen said. “Isn’t it just awful? Killed in his grandmother’s house.”

  “It is terrible,” Caprice agreed. “Did you know him?”