Silence of the Lamps

by Karen Rose Smith

  “Probably. I thought I’d come over and say hi. I was going to talk to Jeanie too, but she ran off.”

  The din in the arena was growing louder with more people talking now. Music was playing in the background over the speakers.

  Judy leaned into Caprice so she could hear her. “I think she’s just embarrassed. She wasn’t sure she should come tonight, you know, after Drew’s death and all. But she had the tickets, and what good would it do her to stay home? When she mentioned it to me, I said we could come together.”

  “That’s really nice of you. How is she doing?”

  Judy seemed hesitant to answer. “Are you looking into Drew’s murder?”

  “Let’s just say I’m keeping my ears open.”

  “You really helped the police when Louise was killed.”

  “Some of that was inadvertent,” Caprice admitted, remembering how she’d come face-to-face with the murderer but had ended up winning out.

  Recalling all that, and apparently the information she’d given Caprice before, Judy said, “It’s always been hard to get to know Jeanie. But because we have businesses practically across from each other, we often bump into each other at the Koffee Klatch or at the deli. So we’ve had a few conversations. That’s how I learned she was coming up here tonight when I ran into her at the deli yesterday.”

  “Did she take any time off?”

  “Just for Drew’s funeral. And to tell you the truth, she doesn’t seem all that affected by Drew’s death. It’s crazy. I mean, I have a brother. If anything happened to him, I’d be devastated.”

  The same was true for Caprice. “What was her mood driving up here tonight?”

  “She was all light and excited as if nothing unusual had happened. I don’t know. Maybe I’m reading her all wrong. Maybe she’s just really good at covering up what she’s feeling.”

  After a few more exchanged pleasantries with Judy, Caprice returned to her seat beside Nikki.

  Nikki asked, “Did you find anything out?”

  Caprice just shook her head.

  Not long after, as the lights in the arena dimmed, as the excitement and the buzz and then the applause grew, as Ace’s opening act appeared on the stage and swung into an introduction, Caprice’s thoughts couldn’t stop tripping over one hurdle. What if Jeanie Boswell wasn’t just hiding her feelings?

  What if she was a cold-blooded murderess?

  * * *

  Caprice swam laps on Monday afternoon as if her life depended on it, and maybe it did. She needed to burn off excess energy. If she did, maybe she could think more clearly. Her thoughts were disrupted with worry about what Grant and Naomi were saying . . . and doing. Especially doing. They were also disrupted by everything she had learned and not learned about Drew Pierson, as well as his sister’s attitude. Just what direction should she go next?

  The gym part of Shape Up was a busy place this afternoon. The pool, not so much. Because she didn’t dawdle, her swim took about a half hour, her shower and hair dry about another fifteen minutes. She’d be home to her animals to spend time with them before an evening tennis game with Nikki. Maybe she’d take Lady along. Animals were like kids. You couldn’t leave them for hours on end without them missing you. If they missed you too much, they misbehaved, or tried to get your attention in unusual ways. She tried to prevent that.

  She pushed open the women’s locker room door, about to head straight through the gym area to the front of Shape Up. But as she passed the elliptical trainers, she spotted Larry Penya.

  Nana would tell her that was a sign.

  Away from Bronson, would he open up more than he had at Rowena’s? There was only one way to find out.

  She “accidentally” brushed against his machine, her bag catching on the corner. As she stopped to apologize, their gazes met.

  “I’m really sorry,” she said. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.” Then as if a lightbulb had gone on in her head, she said, “I met you at Rowena’s. Larry Penya, isn’t it?”

  “You have a good memory. You’re Nikki De Luca’s sister.”

  “You know Nikki?”

  “No, I don’t know her. I was at the Valentine’s Day dance. Drew pointed you out to me, along with Nikki while he was working with her.”

  Almost everybody in Kismet had been at that dance. She’d been preoccupied that night with Grant . . . and with Seth. But now she wasn’t preoccupied.

  She moved a little bit closer to Larry. “Because my sister and I found Drew, as well as for Rowena’s sake, I’d like to get to the bottom of what happened if the police don’t. So maybe you could help me with something.”

  He looked reluctant to do so, then asked, “What do you need help with?”

  “It’s a personal thing, really. Can you tell me if Drew really liked Nikki? He gave her the impression he did, but she didn’t want to mix business with pleasure. I’m not sure if she regrets that now.”

  Larry took the towel from around his neck and wiped sweat from his brow. “I guess it doesn’t much matter anymore what I say, so I guess I can tell you the truth.”

  Caprice held her breath. It was rare that someone actually spoke the truth.

  “Drew knew Nikki was experienced with her business and a good chef. He intended to work with her to learn what he could from her—about running a catering business and about the type of food she cooked. He made a play for her because he thought if they got serious, they could partner up, and he’d be on his way to what he wanted.”

  “What did he want?”

  “To make some money, to be a success, to ride on somebody else’s coattails without putting a lot of effort into it.”

  Caprice didn’t want to respond out of pique, so she waited a few beats before she said, “But it didn’t work out with Nikki. So he must have been motivated. He ventured out on his own and then he managed that lucrative deal with Rack O’ Ribs.”

  “Drew was motivated, all right. He wanted the good life like Bronson has. He just wasn’t exactly sure how to get it. There’s a reason he got that deal with Rack O’ Ribs.”

  “A reason other than the barbecue sauce tasting good?”

  “Lots of barbecue sauces taste good. Drew got serious with the manager’s daughter, and she put in a good word for him with her dad. Drew knew that manager was friends with the CEO of the chain. That’s the kind of conniving Drew did.”

  Caprice put the manager on her list of people to talk to next. Maybe Drew’s conniving is what had gotten him killed.

  Larry said, “I’m going to hit the showers. Good luck screening Drew’s enemies. He was racking them up.”

  Before Caprice could inquire about more of them, Larry had climbed from the machine and disappeared into the men’s locker room. Did he have more information she could tap, or did he have something to hide?

  * * *

  On Monday evening, Caprice knew she had to practice her swing before she and Roz accidentally ran into Bronson on the tennis courts at the country club, she hoped by the end of the week. So she’d asked Nikki to join her at a playground near her sister’s condo tonight. There were four tennis courts here for the general public. Caprice had to admit she didn’t like swatting around tennis balls and sweating. The only good thing was, she’d brought Lady along too. Lady, of course, happily wanted to run and catch each tennis ball. But after about fifteen minutes of that, Caprice had given her a chew toy and now she sat under a bench while Nikki served the ball to Caprice once more.

  Her sister lobbed it just over the net. Caprice ran forward, swung under the ball, and managed to fish it up so it bounced back to her sister.

  Nikki called, “I didn’t think you’d get that.”

  She’d gotten it with luck, not skill. After another fifteen minutes of running and missing and practically falling over her own feet, she pointed to the bench.

  Nikki joined her there, and they both opened bottles of water Nikki had brought along. “I can’t believe you even managed to look vintage when playing tennis.
”

  Caprice had worn a skort in pink gingham and a pink tank with a little fringe. Her sneakers were printed with peace signs in fuchsia. “I don’t look vintage. I just look cool, or groovy, whichever word you want to choose.”

  Nikki groaned. Her own blue tank and running shorts were skimpy, but that’s what she liked to wear to move around the tennis court. Her outfit looked great on her, since Nikki was more slender than Caprice. If Caprice lost about ten pounds . . . That had been her wish for the past few years.

  “I have a favor to ask,” Nikki said. “I already asked Bella and she said yes.”

  That always applied subtle pressure when two sisters were on board.

  “What favor?”

  “Bella doesn’t work at All About You tomorrow night, and she agreed to help serve with me and Serena at the wedding reception. Can you help too? Since this is last minute, I’m having trouble finding waitresses. The four of us would work together well. You’ve been around Serena at the open houses.”

  Serena was friendly and efficient, and Caprice liked her. “Sure I can help. I’ll see if Uncle Dom can sit with Lady. If not, maybe Mom can keep her company.”

  As they sipped water and caught their breath, Caprice thought about what she should tell Nikki, and what she shouldn’t, about the information on Drew she’d ferreted out so far. They were friends as much as sisters. Because of the friendship as well as the sisterhood, they didn’t keep secrets.

  She took another long swig of water. “I ran into Larry Penya at Shape Up today.”

  “You did? Did you learn anything?”

  When she was slow to answer, Nikki eyed her with a shrewd sisterly look. “You should have called me if you learned something.”

  “Why call when I was seeing you tonight.”

  “Okay, now you’re seeing me. Talk.”

  “You’re not going to like it.”

  “What else is new these days? What did he have to say?”

  Lady must have heard the tension in their voices, because she stopped chewing, dropped the toy to the ground, wiggled herself between Caprice’s and Nikki’s legs, and put her paws up on the bench.

  Caprice stroked her dog’s neck. “It’s okay, baby, we’re just talking.”

  “Not yet we’re not,” Nikki murmured, then gave Lady a pat too.

  “First of all,” Caprice began, “Larry told me that Drew pointed us out when he was working at the Valentine’s Day dance.”

  “That’s not toxic. So tell me what is.”

  “I asked him if Drew really liked you, as a woman, not as a chef.”

  Nikki’s face, already flushed from exercise, grew a little pinker. “And?”

  “And, he told me Drew wanted to work with you to learn what he could from you—about running a catering business, about the type of food you cooked.”

  “That’s what sous chefs do.”

  “Larry also confided that Drew thought if the two of you got serious, then you’d partner up and he’d be on his way.”

  “I’d already guessed that, but it isn’t easy to hear.”

  “I didn’t just learn about his attitude toward you, though. Apparently Drew was a conniver. Larry maintains that Drew got serious with the manager’s daughter at Rack O’ Ribs because the manager could put in a good word for him. Mr. Dennis was friends with the CEO of the chain. That’s how the barbecue sauce got its tasting, and that’s how it got put into the pipeline. I’m putting that manager on my short list of people to talk to.”

  “You’ve decided to go after this full throttle, haven’t you? Vince isn’t going to like it. Grant’s not going to like it.”

  “Vince can live with it. He has before. And as far as Grant goes? He doesn’t have any say over my life.”

  “Caprice?” Nikki’s voice held a cautious note that warned Caprice to be cautious too.

  “How am I supposed to think about this, Nikki? He’s doing what he needs to do. I need to do what I need to do. Quid pro quo, or something like that, if we have to put it in lawyer’s terms.”

  “We don’t have to put it in lawyer’s terms, and I don’t think Grant would either. Just because he’s spending some time with Naomi doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about you. Can’t you get that through your head?”

  “I only know what I’m feeling, and if I have insecurities, well, so be it. I’m not confident about our relationship because of his background.”

  “Your own background doesn’t help much either. Maybe you could trust Grant if you hadn’t been dumped by two men.”

  “Thanks a lot for the reminder.”

  Nikki nudged her shoulder. “I meant it in the nicest way. You deserve better than a man who could forget about you because of a long-distance relationship, or because of a man who wasn’t finished with his ex-wife.”

  “Gee, who does that sound like?” Caprice muttered.

  “You usually have a better attitude.”

  Caprice was saved from a response when a black sedan pulled up along the curb beside the tennis courts. It was shiny and just washed and caught their attention. Both were surprised when Detective Carstead climbed out.

  He wasn’t wearing a suit tonight, but rather navy dress slacks and a wrinkled cream Oxford shirt. No tie was in evidence. Had he spotted them when he was driving by and just decided to stop and chat?

  As the detective strode closer, Lady yipped at him. It wasn’t a stay-away yip. It was sort of a “hello” yip. After all, Lady was friendly.

  Her soft bark didn’t seem to bother the detective. He stepped right up to the bench and looked down at the cocker. She looked up at him as if she wanted a head pat. Caprice reminded herself that her dog was a good judge of character.

  “Hello, ladies.” His glance toward Nikki seemed to take in her tennis attire. But then he turned to Caprice. “Does she belong to you?”

  “Yes, she does. She’s all mine.”

  “Is she friendly?”

  Feeling a bit out of sorts this evening, Caprice returned, “Friendlier than I am.”

  The corner of his lip twitched up as if he wanted to smile but wasn’t going to. Holding out his hand to the cocker, he let Lady sniff it. She rubbed her ear against it, then she rolled over for a tummy rub.

  Caprice just shook her head. What if Detective Carstead wasn’t a friend, but rather the enemy? Could she trust her dog to decide which he was?

  Receiving the message, the detective rubbed her tummy for a while, said, “You’re a beauty,” then rose to his feet again. “I recognized you when I drove by. I was going to give you a call in the morning, but this is just serendipity.”

  “Serendipity,” Caprice repeated. “What were you going to call me about?”

  “I heard you went to Drew Pierson’s funeral.”

  “I did. Nikki didn’t.”

  He glanced at her sister again. “I know that.”

  Of course he did. After all, he was an investigator.

  “You knew Drew Pierson’s grandmother well enough to pay your respects?” he asked with a probing look.

  “First of all, we were there the day he was murdered. Second of all, my mom and Nana know her from church. Third of all, it only seemed right.”

  His expression was totally neutral, and she clamped her lips shut before she said anything else. Nikki had remained silent, which was a good thing.

  Brett Carstead shifted on his wing-tipped shoes, then he asked, “Are you investigating the murder?”

  Caprice knew when the Fifth Amendment had to apply. She wasn’t going to answer that one.

  He gave a resigned sigh. “I warned you before, and I’m going to warn you again. Keep out of it. You’re putting yourself in danger, and it’s not necessary.”

  She knew he was thinking about the last murder she inadvertently solved at the same time the police were closing in.

  Now Nikki spoke up. “Am I a suspect?”

  The look the detective gave her sister was a bit longer than necessary. “I can’t discuss the investigation
, and you shouldn’t be either.”

  Nikki held up her hands like stop signs. “I’m not discussing the investigation, at least not with anybody other than Caprice . . . and of course Vince.”

  Carstead gave a little grunt. He couldn’t fault her for that answer. Caprice noticed the way Brett Carstead was gazing at her sister. He didn’t want to fault her at all. He didn’t want to charge her with a murder. In fact, he could want to date her.

  And the way Nikki was gazing at him—

  Carstead broke his eye contact with Nikki. “Enjoy your game of tennis. I’m glad I stopped. This saved me a phone call.” Not forgetting about Lady, he gave her another pat on the head, then he turned and walked away.

  Nikki watched his long-legged stride, the way he rounded the car, then opened his door and climbed inside.

  “What are you thinking?” she asked Nikki.

  “I’m thinking he’s pretty hot for a detective.”

  Caprice groaned. As if they didn’t have trouble enough.

  Chapter Fourteen

  For Caprice, dressing on Tuesday evening as a server—which meant conservatively—was almost painful. She smoothed down her white apron tied over black slacks and a white blouse. The wedding reception was being held in the social hall adjacent to the Kismet United Methodist Church. Although Nikki had been nervous about catering this event, she needed the income, and she also needed the recommendations if the reception went well.

  Bella nudged Caprice and nodded toward the wedding cake. It was Nikki’s new specialty—a square carrot cake with two connected crystal hearts perched on top. Silver swirls ran down the sides. It was quite attractive.

  “Would you want that at your wedding?”

  Bella was just making conversation, helping the time go faster while they served the meal. But Caprice didn’t want to talk about weddings. Still she answered cheerily, “I love Nikki’s carrot cake.”

  Bella gave her a long look. “Are you and Grant still on the outs?”

  Caprice shrugged. “I haven’t heard from him.”

  “He stopped by the swings with Patches at the Raspberry Festival to say hello. His ex didn’t look too pleased,” Bella said with a wink.