“The concert didn’t help as it should have.”
“No, it didn’t. His older daughter, Leslie, had her mind closed to Ace’s music even before we attended the concert. I think Vanna and I could have become friends, but Rod prevented us from trying. Even when they came over to visit the kittens, he wouldn’t let Vanna stay a little bit longer even though she wanted to. He could have left her here while he took Leslie to her activity, but he wouldn’t do it. That was the final straw for me. I understand his wife walked out on him, and he has trouble trusting women. But with that huge issue between us, we couldn’t form a real relationship.”
“Were you ready for one?”
“I thought I was. But my marriage to Johnny was unforgettably right. I’m just afraid I’ll never have my expectations met again. How are you and Grant doing? I know you had a rough patch this summer when he saw his ex-wife.”
“He needed to do that.” Caprice was sure of it now, even though at the time she hadn’t been. “He and Naomi lost a child. That’s something both of them will deal with for the rest of their lives. He’s been sharing more with me about what they talked about and what he felt, and we’re becoming closer every day. I love him, Dulcina. I’m all in.”
She’d known Grant Weatherford, her brother’s law partner, since he and her brother were college roommates. Divorce and tragedy had brought Grant to Kismet to find a new life and join her brother in his practice. She and Grant had had their ups and downs, but he was now the love of her life.
Dulcina nodded. “That’s the way it should be if your relationship is going to last.”
Mason chased Tia over to Caprice’s chair, and then he climbed up her pant leg and ended up on her knee, looking up at her.
“You’re just too adorable and you know it,” Caprice told him.
He meowed at her, a squeaky little meow that he was growing into.
Dulcina just shook her head. “They make me laugh and they fill me with joy. Just call me or text me when your uncle wants to visit. You know me. I’m flexible.”
Caprice liked to think she was too. “I’ll check with Uncle Dom and see when he’s free. I know he’s anxious to make his new place a home.”
For some reason, Caprice’s mind wandered once more to the Wyatt estate. Had that mansion ever really been a home? Her objective would be to turn it into one for women who sorely needed a place of warmth and stability.
* * *
On Thursday morning, Caprice stood at the door to Sunrise Tomorrow, the original facility. Wendy had received her proposal and had a few questions that she wanted to talk over in person. Caprice said her name through the intercom and waved at the camera. She recognized the security camera setup as one that accompanied her own alarm system. The shelter had to be careful about whom they let through its door. Caprice did too when she was involved with solving a murder. Not so long ago, danger had come calling.
Wendy opened the door herself, wearing a smile. “Come on in. We can talk in my office.”
The original facility for Sunrise Tomorrow was very different from what Wendy wanted to accomplish at the Wyatt estate. This building had once been an assisted living facility that had gone bankrupt. Wendy had rounded up a group of investors and taken on the challenge of turning it into a shelter with rooms where women could spend the night. An office area had been utilized for day-today administration. As she walked through a small reception area and around a large desk where a receptionist sat to monitor not only who came in and out but what was going on inside too, Caprice could see that the inside of the shelter could use a little polishing. The furniture was looking shabby. But she wasn’t here to talk about that today.
She suddenly stopped as she spotted a woman who came from a back hall and walked through the reception area to the other wing. Caprice recognized her. Alicia Donnehy . . . and she was carrying a stack of what looked like just-washed laundry.
As if her high school classmate could feel Caprice’s eyes on her, Alicia stopped and glanced over her shoulder. She didn’t wave or say hello. A shuttered look came across her face, and she turned toward the direction where she’d been headed and continued walking.
Alicia had been on the committee with Caprice to plan their high school reunion in July. What was she doing here? She was carrying laundry. Did that mean she was a volunteer? If so, why?
Caprice’s curiosity had gotten her into a lot of trouble . . . from childhood to the present day. She’d always asked questions that had baffled her teachers, stumped her priest, and amused her parents. Now the implications behind seeing Alicia here were serious.
Caprice hurried to catch up with Wendy and noticed a woman rifling through Wendy’s file cabinet. She turned when Caprice and Wendy stepped inside.
Wendy said, “Lizbeth, this is Caprice De Luca. Caprice, this is Lizbeth Diviney. She’s my second in command and can answer questions when I’m not around. She’s going to be the director of the new facility once it’s up and running.”
Lizbeth was a redhead with a pixie hair style. She was only five foot two and as slender as Caprice would like to be. In a quick movement, Lizbeth pulled a folder and shut the file drawer. Then she shook Caprice’s hand. “It’s great to meet you. I’ve heard good things about your work.”
She waved the folder at Wendy. “I’ll get right on this.” In the next moment, she was gone from the office.
“She’s high energy,” Wendy said with a smile and motioned Caprice to a chair.
Wendy’s desk held stacks of papers, but otherwise the space looked feminine with its flowered chairs and pin-striped wallpaper. She didn’t waste any time. “Your proposal makes a lot of sense to me, and I agree with ninety percent of it. The other ten percent has to do with the grand salon at the mansion and your bunk bed idea for two of the rooms upstairs. I’m thinking of having a partition divide the grand salon into two rooms. Two workshops could be conducted at the same time that way.”
“No problem there,” Caprice agreed. “Do you want them decorated the same way or do you want two different designs?”
“Even though I have the money with the legacy, I’m not going to splurge. Let’s keep them both uniform. That’s more economical, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is. And the reason you don’t want the bunk beds?”
“I don’t want these rooms to have a prison-cell feel. Bunk beds could suggest that, don’t you think?”
“I proposed the bunk beds because it would give residents more room for a sitting area or double desks. Those rooms upstairs are anything but small or cell-like, and of course the decorating would make all the difference. Light airy draperies and coordinating bedspreads would never give a jail atmosphere. But again, that’s up to you.”
“Let me think about it.”
Wendy had pulled a list in front of her along with Caprice’s proposal that she’d printed out. They went over several more items.
Wendy was an easy client to work with because she seemed to take Caprice’s suggestions, and Caprice had no problem compromising to give Wendy exactly what she wanted.
“I suppose you’ll have volunteers working at the transitional facility too,” Caprice said finally.
“We count on our volunteers,” Wendy agreed. “And the women who’ve been helped by us want to give back.”
“Are your volunteers all women who’ve needed to take refuge in the shelter?”
Wendy didn’t hesitate to answer. “They usually are. The truth is, most people don’t want to get involved, not with anything that has to do with domestic violence and protective orders.”
“I can see that.”
She again thought about Alicia and wondered if her best friend, Roz, knew Alicia better than she did. Roz had been on the reunion committee too.
Wendy glanced up at the clock hanging on the wallpapered wall. “I have another meeting in fifteen minutes. I think we’ve covered everything.”
Caprice rose to go.
Wendy snapped her fingers. “I forgot to tel
l you that you’re most welcome to bring Grant Weatherford to dinner on Saturday. Rumor has it that the two of you are dating.”
“We are,” Caprice answered. “I’ll ask him and see if he’d like to come along. He might be interested in the co-housing concept too and enjoy talking to Sebastian.”
Wendy’s phone rang. She held up her finger to Caprice and picked it up.
Caprice waited.
Even three feet from the phone, she could hear an angry voice on the other end, and it sounded male. Wendy seemed to take a bolstering breath and then she slammed down the receiver without saying a word.
“Trouble?” Caprice asked.
“Trouble we often get here.”
“An angry husband?”
Wendy just nodded. Then she said, “That’s one of the reasons why a state-of-the-art alarm system as well as security cameras are a must for the new facility, no matter what the cost. I’d like to have a few inside too, in the public areas. Do you think you can come up with inventive ways to disguise them?”
“My family insists I can be very inventive.”
Wendy gave Caprice a weak smile. “It’s coming together, Caprice—all of it. I’m determined to keep these women safe from anyone who intends to do them harm.”
Wendy’s vehemence came from more than a desire to do good, Caprice suspected. Maybe someday soon she’d find out what had driven Wendy into this life’s work.
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Copyright © 2016 by Karen Rose Smith
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ISBN-13: 978-1-61773-772-5
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Silence of the Lamps Page 27