After Shasta romped around the yard and did what she had to do, Caprice cleaned up and let her inside. Tonight she sought comfort in her surroundings—her retro kitchen, her pets, and everything she appreciated most about her life. She poured dog food into Shasta’s dish for a snack, hoping Sophia would appear when she heard the ping-ping-ping of the little bits falling in. But the cat didn’t appear, so Caprice went looking.
After a thorough search of the living room and dining room hiding places, even the wash basket in the downstairs bathroom, Caprice headed to her office. Shasta bounded after her, but she held up her hand and ordered, “Stay,” at the threshold. Shasta whined but stayed. Whoever had owned Shasta earlier had trained her well. Caprice wondered if the fliers she’d left with Perky Paws and Marcus and had posted on the bulletin boards in the grocery and drugstores would bring results. If not . . . like it or not, Sophia and Shasta would be house buddies.
Inside her office, Caprice checked the usual spots where Sophia might nap—her desk chair, on top of the printer, and atop a stack of manila folders on the floor. However, she didn’t find her feline friend.
The cat could be sprawled on her bed up in the bedroom. However, noticing the closet door wasn’t altogether closed, she opened it further and peered inside under her winter coats.
There was Sophia . . . snuggled on top of an old blanket, but facing the inside wall.
Shasta still whined at the doorway.
Hunkering down, Caprice petted Sophia. The cat turned, and her golden eyes glared at Caprice reproachfully.
“Well,” Caprice said. “Did Shasta want to play and you didn’t?”
After another look that told Caprice that Sophia had been disturbed from whatever she’d wanted to do, the feline scratched her ear a few times, yawned, and stretched in the ultimate cat stretch that Caprice always envied. With a shake of her head, she scooped Sophia up into her arms and nuzzled her white ruff, cooing to her a bit.
Sophia began purring.
Caprice’s cell phone suddenly played “A Hard Day’s Night.” Checking it, she saw the call was from Bella.
She placed Sophia on her desk chair and asked her two pets, “Are you two ready to be friends again?”
Shasta trotted over to Caprice’s chair, sniffed at Sophia, then circled the chair. When Sophia hopped down, tail high in the air, Shasta followed her . . . without chasing her.
When Caprice answered her call, Bella said, “Detective Jones phoned. I have to be at the station tomorrow at 9:00 a.m.”
Caprice didn’t like the idea that Bella was probably Detective Jones’s prime suspect. But after all, she’d had blood on her hands. “Vince is going with you?”
“Yes, but . . . Detective Jones wants to see Joe, too.” Bella’s voice broke.
Caprice’s throat tightened in fear for her sister and brother-in-law. “Do you know why?”
“No. Unless he found out about my history with Bob.”
“You should have told him,” Caprice scolded again.
“Well, I didn’t,” Bella snapped.
Caprice could just see Bella planting her hand on her hip.
“He might think Joe had a motive, too,” Caprice suggested.
“What do you mean ‘too’?”
“I mean in addition to whoever else had a motive. He hasn’t found one for you yet, and we can hope he doesn’t.”
Bella went silent until finally she explained, “Vince thinks we should ask Grant to go in with Joe, but Joe doesn’t want him there. Caprice, I’m scared.”
“I know you are, but the best thing you can do is convince Joe to let Grant help him.”
“Maybe you could talk to Joe?”
“Like he ever listens to me.”
“This time he might. You were involved in this kind of thing before. And Grant helped, didn’t he?”
Yes, Grant had helped. But she and Grant had a tenuous friendship that went back to her brother’s law school days, when Grant had been his roommate and Vince had brought him home on weekends. Caprice had had a crush on him. However, Grant had gotten engaged and then married, and Caprice had turned off that crush and any attraction she’d felt. She hadn’t seen him for years until he’d returned to Kismet to be Vince’s law partner. There was a sad story behind that, and Grant didn’t talk about it. But that was part of the problem. They didn’t talk about the child he’d lost or his subsequent divorce because the wound might never heal. She doubted if Grant would agree.
“You know I’ll talk to Joe if it’ll help.”
“Hold on a minute. Vince left, and Joe’s getting ready to go over to Nellie’s for the kids, though I hate to bring them home into this tension.”
“That tension could be there for awhile, Bee.”
“What am I going to tell them? I doubt we can keep this from them. It will be on the news.”
“You and Joe won’t be, not unless—”
“Go ahead and say it,” Bella said morosely. “Not unless one of us is charged.” She sighed. “I’ll get Joe.”
Not two seconds later, Joe was on the other end of the call. “So you were there.”
“I was there.”
“Bella says she knelt down beside him to see if he was still breathing.”
Caprice hadn’t intended to go over all of this again, but if Joe needed to verify what Bella had told him, she would do it. “Yes, that’s how she got blood on her.”
“But his head was bashed in.”
“That’s right.” Caprice tried to put the pictures out of her head, tried to forget about seeing Bella covered with paint and blood.
“Vince thinks Jones found out about Bella and Preston dating years ago and that’s why he wants to talk to me. What do you think?”
“I think Detective Jones is a good detective.”
“We can’t pay for a lawyer.”
“Joe, I don’t know if you can afford to be without one. Grant will probably tell you, and I’m sure Vince already has, that if the police are seriously looking at you as a suspect . . . or at Bella, you’ll need criminal defense attorneys. But Grant can help protect your rights. He did it for my friend, remember?”
“Yeah, I remember. The thing is, if Vince calls his partner in for me, that’s going to be purely business.”
She wasn’t sure what Joe was getting at, so she kept quiet until he continued.
“Maybe if you give Grant a call, he’ll consider doing it as a favor?”
Sometimes she wanted to throttle Joe Santini. Sometimes she wondered what her sister saw in him. But no matter what, he was her brother-in-law.
“What makes you think Grant will do this as a favor to me?”
“Because he helped you before. Because I see the way the two of you . . . talk. You’re friends or something, and you’ve known him almost as long as Vince has.”
“Not as well.”
“The last thing I want to do is ask you for a favor,” Joe said angrily. “If you can’t do this, fine. I’ll go in there myself. I don’t have anything to hide.”
“Where were you tonight?”
Silence met her question. She didn’t press further for an answer, but she did say, “You can bet Detective Jones is going to ask you that, and if you don’t have a good answer, you really will need Grant there.”
Her brother-in-law still kept silent.
“I’ll give Grant a call, but you’d better tell Vince I’m going to do it.”
“He already thinks I’m a cheapskate. But I’ll tell him.”
Since they were talking, Caprice decided to fish a little more. “Joe, did you know Bella was going to meet Bob?”
“No, I didn’t. How would I know? Are you going to tell me how long this has been going on?”
“Bella will tell you. And, Joe, nothing was going on. They just met up and talked.”
“Yeah,” he said morosely, and Caprice felt sorry for him. As if he could sense that, he mumbled, “I’m giving the phone back to Bella, and . . . Thanks, Caprice.”
That thank-you was big for Joe. He had pride and a lot of it.
“Do you want me to call you after I speak with Grant?”
“Just tell him to give me a call if he’s going to do it.”
He was assuming that Caprice could convince Grant Weatherford to take up his cause. Could she?
After a few last words with her sister, Caprice walked into the living room to keep her eye on Shasta and Sophia while she speed-dialed Grant’s number. She’d needed it handy not so long ago.
As his cell phone rang, Caprice saw Shasta had settled on the sofa, while Sophia sat watchfully on the afghan Nana Celia had crocheted that was thrown over the sofa’s back. Ready to leave a message for Grant on his cell and try his town house number, she was surprised when he answered right before the call went to voice mail.
“Did you have another family dinner that got out of hand?” he asked wryly.
Grant had attended their family dinners many times. “Family dinner was last Sunday,” she answered reasonably. Then a thought occurred to her, and she felt her cheeks flush. “Am I interrupting something?”
After a heartbeat of silence, he responded, “Just replays on the sports channel. What’s going on?”
He sounded concerned, as if he was wondering if one of her family might be sick or something. This was a whole lot worse.
“I have a favor to ask.” After all, the last time they’d talked, they’d decided they were “friends.”
“You have more kittens you want me to place?”
Grant had helped her find a home for two strays. She wondered how that divorced, single mom next door to him was faring, or if she and Grant were connecting. Hence her question about interrupting something. After a mental shake, Caprice reminded herself that was none of her business.
“I need your help for Bella and Joe.” Before he could ask more questions, she jumped right in. “The police want to talk to Joe tomorrow and he needs someone to protect his rights. Bella found Bob Preston dead outside the community center. The police could think Joe has a motive.”
Grant must have heard something in her voice besides her obvious concern. His deep baritone got a little deeper and a little more probing. “Bella found Bob Preston’s body?”
“I, uh, I found her with Bob Preston’s body.”
“Don’t tell me you’re involved in another murder investigation.”
“All right, I won’t tell you that,” she retorted. There was that old tension between them again. It never took much.
“I can’t believe you’re involved in another murder.”
“It’s not like I went looking for it. And that’s not the point. The point is, Bella was kneeling in a puddle of paint beside Bob, blood on her hands, when the police arrived. She and Bob dated when she was in high school. They thought it was serious.”
“I remember Vince telling me that when he suggested Preston’s company paint my place.”
“Did they?”
“No. I decided to do it myself. But I don’t understand why the police are going to question Joe if Bella found the body. Unless . . .”
Swiftly, Caprice told him what had happened when she was preparing Eliza’s mansion for an open house. After that, she told him about Bella’s coffee date and her scheduled meeting with Bob at the community center.
Grant whistled through his teeth. “I knew Joe and Bella were having trouble after that blowup at your mom’s birthday party, but this is beyond trouble. Just what does Joe expect me to do for free?”
“Just be there tomorrow.”
“Your family has meant a lot to me over the years, Caprice. Sure, I’ll help out. But tell me one thing.”
“What?” She felt as if she were walking into some kind of trap.
“Are you going to stay out of this murder like you should, or be foolish again and try to get to the bottom of what happened?”
She heard the judgment in his tone, at least that’s what she thought it was. “This is my sister and her husband, Grant. I’ll do whatever I have to do.”
“That’s what I was afraid you’d say,” he muttered. “I’m going to tell you the same thing this time that I told you the last time. Stay far away from the police station. Stay far away from the investigation.”
“And what if I don’t take your advice?”
“Then we’ll both be sorry.”
Chapter Five
When Grant crossed the threshold into Bella and Joe’s house the following morning, the living room went silent. Not that there had been much conversation before her brother’s partner’s arrival, Caprice thought. The tension between Bella and Joe was as thick as any tomato sauce she’d ever reduced.
Immediately Grant assessed the situation. He glanced at Caprice but spoke to Joe. “I think we should go over a few basics before we see the detective.”
“Why don’t you go into the kitchen,” Bella suggested.
Caprice knew that with Vince advising Bella and with motives for murder in question, Grant would want a private session with Joe. Taking advantage of that, she’d have one with Bella.
After Joe and Grant sank down on chairs at the kitchen table, she pulled her sister to the farthest corner of the living room . . . away from the kitchen. “Tell me you and Joe talked more about all of this.”
“I can’t tell you something that didn’t happen,” Bella snapped.
Caprice reacted to her sister’s snippiness. “What do you two do, just sit and stare at each other?”
“No. We go to separate rooms. We take care of the kids. We glare, not stare, at each other.”
To her dismay, Caprice didn’t know a better way to handle this . . . a better way to get to the bottom of it. So she just went at it. “Has Joe given you an explanation for where he goes at night?”
“He doesn’t explain anything. He never has. Not unless he’s trying to pretend he knows everything about everything.”
“Bella . . .” Caprice wanted to be understanding, she really did, but this kind of back and forth wasn’t going to cover any ground.
As if Bella realized that too, she looked away, down the hall to the kids’ rooms. They weren’t there. Timmy and Megan were having pancakes with their neighbor Nellie.
Maybe Bella was remembering happier times with their children . . . her other pregnancies. “I don’t know why Joe won’t tell me. Maybe he’s having an affair.” Her voice caught on the word.
Most of all, Caprice wanted to wrap her arms around Bella. But she had the feeling her sister would push her away. Bella was trying to be strong and not break down. Affection could make her break down, whereas anger and resentment could very well shore her up.
“So exactly what is his alibi? What’s he telling Grant?”
This time Bella’s gaze swerved toward the kitchen and she sighed. “He says he went for a drive. But he also says he didn’t stop anywhere and that he doubts if anyone saw him.” She took Caprice’s arm and pulled her a little bit farther down the hall. “I found something, though.”
Maybe they were going to get somewhere. “What?”
“You suggested I go through his pockets, so that’s what I did. I found an e-mail coupon from Hollywood Casino. It was sent to his work address.”
North of Harrisburg, the casino was a playground for senior citizens who had a penchant for slot machines, as well as for more serious gamblers who headed for the poker room and the blackjack tables. The casino was part of a complex that included Penn National Race Course.
“Have you ever gone there with him?” she asked.
“We drove up there a couple of times after the casino was added to the track. But that was a long time ago, and we haven’t been back. At least I haven’t.”
But possibly Joe had.
Bella’s eyes were so troubled because she’d obviously been living with that realization since she’d found the coupon. “I looked through the top dresser drawer too, and his underwear drawer. But I didn’t find anything else. I write all the checks for the bills, and
I pay our credit cards online. There haven’t been any strange charges. But . . .” She sighed again. “I’m not naive. He could have a credit card I don’t know about. I have a couple that he doesn’t know about.”
So much for one hundred percent disclosure in marriage, Caprice thought. When had Bella and Joe’s communication started to break down? Or maybe it had never been built on a solid foundation from the beginning. Was an unexpected pregnancy ever a good foundation to marry? She supposed it could be if two people really loved each other, if those two people were really ready to get married. Had Bella and Joe been ready to get married?
Caprice didn’t know if she was helping the cause of their marriage or just helping the cause of the investigation when she asked, “Does Joe have any place else he spends a lot of time . . . where he might stash something?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Anything he wouldn’t want you to see.”
“I can check the top shelf of the bedroom closet. The kids couldn’t reach that if he was worried about them finding a secret stash. The only other place might be . . .” She thought about it. “Possibly the garage. I never go in the garage unless I’m getting into the car or out of it. I suppose he could have a strongbox on his tool shelf that I don’t know about.”
“If it’s a strongbox, you won’t be able to open it.”
“That depends. I’m good with a hairpin.”
All at once, Caprice was looking at her sister in a new light. Maybe she wasn’t all just pretty curls and perfume. Maybe because Joe was rigid and somewhat controlling, she’d defiantly adapted to her life with skills Caprice didn’t know she had. On the other hand, she might have also learned to lie a little too often. Caprice really didn’t want to think that. There was a big difference between little white lies and monumental ones.
“Have you and Joe had problems only since you told him you’re pregnant, or did they start before that?”
“Every marriage has problems,” Bella said, defensive again. “Even Mom and Dad don’t always get along.”
“But they always make up,” Caprice reminded Bella, knowing it was true.
Yes, their parents had sometimes disagreed, but after the disagreement . . . her mom would make a frocia, one of her dad’s favorite meals, and he’d open a bottle of one of their favorite wines. They’d negotiate over that meal, and then they’d turn in early. As Caprice had gotten older, she’d realized what that meant, even if she didn’t want to realize what that had meant.
Deadly Décor (A Caprice De Luca Mystery) Page 6