Kiki didn’t say a word, but her expression said it all. At first she showed surprise and then a shuttered look that said she was hiding something.
Caprice patted her hand. “It’s okay. I haven’t asked Rowena yet, but I’m going to. I feel her recipes could be an important part of the puzzle—of solving who killed Drew.”
The dining room was filling up now with more Chamber members arriving and seating themselves at the tables. Caprice caught sight of Bronson Chronister, who entered with two men. One of them, Warren Shaeffer, was the president of the Chamber of Commerce. Caprice didn’t know the second man.
Caprice said, “I heard Bronson might run for Chamber of Commerce president. He’s with Warren.”
Kiki targeted her gaze toward the door. “He’s not only with Warren, he’s with Ira Rogers.”
Caprice thought she knew most of the Chamber members. After all, they received a list with every newsletter, and she could identify most of the names. “Who’s Ira Rogers?”
“He is a fund-raising guru.”
“Does the Chamber intend to have a fund-raiser for a special project?”
“That’s possible. But I suspect Bronson brought him along as a guest for another reason. You know my bookstore is a haven for gossip. Residents come in and I overhear lots of conversations. Some I’m not supposed to hear—women leaving their husbands and the reasons why, businesses failing because of poor management, some of the doings in the police department even.”
Caprice could bet Kiki kept her ear tuned in to all of those conversations. She’d formed little reading nooks where her bookstore patrons could be as comfortable as guests as they paged through the latest novels or magazines.
“So what other reason might Ira have for being here?”
“There’s scuttlebutt that Bronson’s throwing his hat in the ring for a seat in the state house. I’ve also heard he has his eye on Congress after that. With his family money behind him, fund-raising at grassroots level on up, and his own success, he has the wherewithal to rise in the political scene. You mark my words. State house. Senator or governor. President.”
Wow. Caprice hadn’t thought that far ahead for Bronson. But why not? “I imagine he’d interview well and look good on a TV screen too.”
Kiki laughed. “That’s what it’s all about these days, isn’t it?”
Caprice hoped if Bronson was elected, he would be elected for more than his good looks and facile interview skills.
With her attention focused on Bronson, she didn’t see Roz come in, but her friend hurried over to the table and asked, “Did you save a seat for me?”
Kiki motioned to the seat on the other side of her. “With you two smart women here to have a confab, I imagine we could think up projects on our own that would benefit this Chamber of Commerce. Let’s give them ideas to bring more tourists to this town.”
Roz laughed. “I’m game.”
Caprice said, “I’m in too.”
The three of them had much to talk about over breakfast, and Caprice had a lot to think about concerning Jeanie Boswell and her brother, who might have been her rival not only for Rowena’s affection but also for her inheritance.
* * *
When Caprice returned from the breakfast, she realized the meal and the meeting hadn’t taken as long as she’d expected. Parking at the curb instead of in her driveway, she decided to take a short detour over to Dulcina’s house to see how she was doing with the cat, and to find out how Rod and his girls had enjoyed the concert. Lady would be okay for another fifteen minutes.
She knew she probably worried about her furry crew more than most, but they were like her kids. Though she had to admit, she wanted children, as well as fur babies.
Caprice crossed the street and went to Dulcina’s door. She pressed the bell. If Dulcina was busy, she wouldn’t stay.
When the door opened, Dulcina’s headphones lay around her neck.
“If you’re working, I don’t have to come in,” Caprice assured her. “I just wanted to see how you and Halo were getting along, and if the concert made any inroads to relationships with Rod’s girls.”
“I do have a bunch of records to transcribe this morning, but come on in. I want you to see what I fixed up for Halo.”
No mention of Rod. Hmmm.
After they transversed the living room and entered the kitchen, Dulcina motioned under the cubicle where a stool could sit at a built-in desk. Halo was nestled into receiving blankets in the storage bin, sound asleep.
“She likes this one best,” Dulcina pointed out. “I put another bed in a darker corner of the sunroom. She uses them both, so maybe she knows what they’re for. It’s as if she’s nesting. Sometimes she’ll get in, go around in a circle, and paw the receiving blanket before she sits down.”
The receiving blanket was patterned with cute little yellow ducks waddling across it. Caprice crouched down beside Halo. Although the cat had looked as if she were sound asleep, her ears twitched and she gazed up at Caprice.
Caprice said, “You’re going to be a mom. I guess you’re getting ready. Are you eating a whole lot?”
“I’ve been feeding her about every four hours and she gobbles it down. I give her crunchies in between. She’s such a sweet cat. I don’t know how she ended up out there on her own.”
“She could have gotten lost and not been able to find her way back. Then if she was injured and hurt, she might have wandered even farther. Or someone could have put her out because they couldn’t pay for the cat food. It’s hard to know. But she does seem like a real sweetie. We can hope she knows how to mother.”
“I’ll help her,” Dulcina said with certainty.
“I won’t hold you up,” Caprice said. “How did the girls enjoy the concert?”
When Dulcina hesitated, Caprice knew there were probably problems.
“Leslie wasn’t impressed. She said she didn’t connect with Ace’s music. But during the concert, I saw her foot tapping along. I even caught her snapping her fingers at one point. She wants to seem so removed, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to reach her.”
“And his younger daughter?”
“Vanna was into it. She even asked her dad if she could download Ace’s music after they were back here. They stopped in for a few minutes because Vanna wanted to see Halo. That was the only hopeful sign of the evening. Leslie even asked me questions about the pregnancy and how long it would be until the kittens were born. I told them after the kittens were old enough, they could come over and play with them because I’m sure they’ll have energy to burn. So maybe kittens can make a difference when a rock concert didn’t. It was sure nice to have the evening out, to sit next to Rod and just hold hands. For a change, he didn’t seem to mind doing that in front of his daughters.”
“So there’s progress.”
“Yes, there’s progress. How about your investigation?”
“I feel like I’m advancing in baby steps. At the Chamber of Commerce breakfast this morning, I learned a few things about Drew and his sister. But also about one of Drew’s friends, Bronson Chronister.”
“There was talk on one of the local shows about him running for office,” Dulcina offered.
“I guess the rumors are true. There’s scuttlebutt he might run for a seat in the state house with an eye on more.”
“He’s easy on the eyes.”
Caprice laughed. “On that note, I think I’ll leave you to your work. Lady misses spending time with you.”
“And I miss her. Maybe you could bring her over and let her meet Halo.”
“We can talk about that more later.”
She offered her hand to Halo, and the cat rubbed her cheek against Caprice’s palm. Already she could see a difference in the feline. She was beginning to trust humans, and that was a big step. Dulcina’s kindness had done that.
Caprice left Dulcina’s, walked across the street, and fished her key for the front door out of her purse. Once inside she pressed in the alarm code to disen
gage the system.
Lady came running. Mirabelle was stretched out on the fuchsia oversized chair, while Sophia sat atop the afghan on the back of the sofa. Two sets of golden eyes studied her while Lady danced around her feet. Caprice had picked up the mail from her porch mailbox on the way in. She didn’t pay much attention to it, because her first concern was letting Lady outside. Still she gave Lady the hand motion for “sit.” After a bit of tail wagging, sit Lady did.
Caprice praised her and petted her, and then patted her hip and said, “Come on. After you do your thing, maybe we can play a little fetch.”
In the kitchen, she deposited her purse on the counter but kept the letters in her hand as she let Lady outside and followed her onto the porch. Lady wasted no time running into the yard. Caprice remembered the days when she ran along with her to give her the “go potty” command. But now Lady didn’t need that.
The day could turn into a sweltering one, and she might have to turn on her air-conditioning. The zinnias were starting to bud. The snapdragons she’d planted in bunches were colorful against the reblooming lilacs. She took in a deep breath of the summery air, closed her eyes, and appreciated the scents of the season.
Sitting on the glider on the porch, she turned to the letters in her hand. There were bills, of course. There were always bills along with ads for products she’d never use. A letter-sized envelope caught her eye. It was one of those envelopes with the blue stripes so that you couldn’t see what was inside. No one wrote letters these days. They sent e-mails. So she couldn’t imagine whom it was from. There was no return address.
That should have been her first warning.
But she was watching Lady and appreciating the day and thinking about meeting Roz and Vince at Cherry on the Top for ice cream. Roz had suggested it at breakfast. Vince and Roz would give her fresh eyes on everything she’d learned about her investigation.
She wasn’t surprised by the white piece of paper she pulled out of the envelope. It was folded in thirds. But when she opened it, the printing alerted her she might not like what it was going to say.
She didn’t.
The printed letters more reminiscent of a child’s writing than an adult’s, even a little jagged, read, If you value that pretty dog and your life, stop asking questions.
As explicit as the knife in the rack of ribs, there was only one thing to do, of course. She speed-dialed Detective Carstead.
* * *
Cherry on the Top was like a step back to the fifties when ice-cream sundaes could be the best part of anybody’s week. Caprice often tried to convince herself that the dairy concoction with walnuts on top could be a balanced meal. Tonight she’d skipped supper to have the sundae sitting before her, a scoop of vanilla with strawberry glaze, and a scoop of vanilla with chocolate fudge sauce. Whipped cream topped it, and walnuts were sprinkled over the whole thing.
She sat across the Formica-topped table from Vince and Roz. Up until now, they’d kept the conversation light. The way Vince and Roz interacted, the way he laughed at her jokes and she fondly brushed his arm, told Caprice they were definitely a couple. But how serious a couple?
Vince took a spoonful of his sundae, a CMP, and licked the spoon. Then he eyed Caprice. “Roz mentioned to me that she told you I asked her to move in with me.”
“She did.”
Caprice wasn’t about to reveal any confidences or what Roz had told her in private.
Vince seemed to realize that. “Are you going to convince her she should?”
That surprised Caprice a little. Vince didn’t usually ask favors of her, especially not this kind.
“Then I guess you haven’t made a decision,” she said to Roz.
“No, I haven’t. You know where I’m coming from, and so does Vince.”
Instead of convincing Roz of anything, Caprice addressed her brother. “Don’t push.”
With a sigh he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re supposed to convince her, not give me advice.”
“Since when did I ever do what I was supposed to do?”
His lips twitched up in amusement. “Maybe when you were about five.”
“You two will work it out,” she said. “Just be patient with each other.”
“We’re thinking about planning that vacation you suggested. It could be a smart idea,” Vince responded.
“I have them now and then,” Caprice teased.
Yet she wasn’t in a teasing mood. She was worried. She couldn’t hide much from her good friend or her family, so she decided to tell them about the letter. “I had a meeting with Detective Carstead this afternoon.”
Now Vince was on alert. “What about?”
Deciding to confide in her brother and Roz, she explained about the rack of ribs threat and the letter. “When I called Detective Carstead initially, he told me not to touch it more than I had to and to slip it into a Ziploc bag. So that’s what I did. He came by to collect it.”
“And?” Vince asked.
“I saw those doubts in his eyes. I asked him if he thought I sent it to myself to get Nikki off the hook.”
“He wouldn’t think that,” Roz protested.
“I believe he did for about a minute. But then he admitted from what he knows about me, he doesn’t believe I would do that. Of course, he wouldn’t share any information about the investigation, but he did tell me they have positive leads they’re following. At least that’s something, coming from him.”
“So now what? Is he going to send a patrol car by your house every once in a while?”
“He said he’d inform the patrol officers to be on the lookout, but they don’t have the manpower to do that. He knows I have a good alarm system and I’ll be careful. I’ll be especially careful with my pets. If anyone comes near them, I’ll use more than what I learned in that self-defense class on them.”
Roz and Vince exchanged a look that said they believed she would.
“I can’t just sit by. I can take care of myself, but anybody who threatens Lady is a real pervert and I’m going to find out who that is.”
“And just how are you going to do that?” Vince asked.
“I’m still thinking about it.”
“Who are your suspects?” Vince wanted to know.
She went down the list from Jeanie Boswell with her motives, to Mario Ruiz and his, to the relationships Drew had with Larry Penya and Bronson Chronister, and Bronson’s aspirations to run for political office. She didn’t know how they all played together, but they might.
After Caprice finished, Roz looked pensive. “I keep thinking about that Tiffany lamp. Sometimes the shades are attached to the base. It’s not that easy to just lift it up and use it as a weapon. What if that shade was removed from the lamp beforehand . . . before the murder? What if it was just sitting on the table?”
That took Caprice’s mind in a different direction. Certainly the murderer didn’t remove the lampshade from the base before he hit Drew. The scene seemed more like an impulsive situation where maybe the murderer hadn’t even intended to strike.
Caprice realized if she learned the answer to why the shade was off the lamp, she might possibly know who the murderer was.
There was only one thing to do in the morning. Visit Rowena again.
Chapter Eighteen
The summer breeze blew in the kitchen window of Rowena’s house the following morning. Caprice had brought Lady along today, and Rowena seemed to enjoy interacting with her. While Caprice sat at the kitchen table, Lady lounging with one of her toys at her feet, Rowena served pineapple pomegranate tea in a cherished rose-patterned porcelain teapot.
Caprice accepted the cup offered her. This time, she’d brought along biscotti she’d made.
Rowena took a bite from a cookie. “You say they’re not like your nana’s. And they aren’t quite. But they’re very good. I love the lemon icing.”
“She must have magic in her hands when she rolls them,” Caprice offered.
&n
bsp; “I appreciate your visit today,” Rowena admitted. She nodded to the cocker spaniel. “And Lady’s. Kiki is going to be at the bookstore until eight o’clock tonight. So I enjoy the company. But I know you probably have more questions about Drew, don’t you?”
“Having tea with you isn’t just about Drew,” Caprice assured her. “After his murder is solved, we’re going to have that grand tea party with Nana. And I’ll still visit. I promise.”
Rowena nodded as if she believed Caprice and bent to pet Lady again. As always, Lady enjoyed the attention. “I have a whole collection of teapots and teacups that we can use when you come over. We’ll try every flavor of tea there is to try. Kiki’s not a tea drinker. She likes coffee. But nothing is more relaxing or comforting than a well-steeped cup of tea.”
After Caprice finished her cookie, she sipped at her tea from a cup of delicate fine china. She understood that Rowena treasured some of these belongings she’d had for decades. That brought her back to the subject of her Tiffany lamps. “I’d like to ask you about your Tiffany lamps again.”
“Ask away.”
“As far as you know, the shade was not off the small lamp before you left that day?”
“That’s right. Everything in the room was as it should be.”
“Do you know any reason why it would have been taken apart? That the shade would have been taken off the base?”
Rowena appeared troubled. “I really have no idea. Unless, of course, Drew did it.” She studied her hands, then her teacup. Finally, she turned her gaze on the floor lamp in the living room. “I do have my recipes hidden in the floor lamp. That channel inside is perfect. Yes, the lamp’s heavy. But I can easily tilt it against the arm of the sofa and take recipes in or out . . . if I want to. But I never want to. I put them in there because I know them by heart. I don’t need them to bake or to cook.”
“As far as you know, had Drew ever seen you take the recipes in or out of the floor lamp?”
“No. Because I just don’t. I don’t know how he could have known they were in there.”
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