Deadly Décor (A Caprice De Luca Mystery)

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Deadly Décor (A Caprice De Luca Mystery) Page 7

by Karen Rose Smith


  “I’m not trying to pry, Bella, really I’m not. I’m just trying to figure out if Joe . . .”

  “Has kept his vows?” Bella asked. “I think he’s the kind of man who does. That’s why I married him. That’s why I’ve stayed with him, even when we aren’t getting along so well.”

  “I want you to think about something, Bee, and think about it really hard. Was he acting differently before the news of your pregnancy? Did he come home smelling like smoke then?”

  “Everything’s becoming all muddled together.”

  “I know. But this is important.”

  Bella closed her eyes, as if she was trying to remove herself from the present situation so that she could go back. “Last winter I got really worried one night when the roads were icy and he was terrifically late. He said he had a client meeting. I really didn’t think too much of it because then there was Valentine’s Day and he sent me flowers. Joe doesn’t usually buy me flowers.”

  A guilt present? Compensation to make up for whatever he was involved in? Whether it was another woman or something else. Unsettling as the realization was, Caprice wasn’t sure if she knew Joe well enough even after all these years to decide whether he’d break his vows. Could anyone really know someone else?

  “There are tons of questions we need to have answered here, Bella. Where was Joe last night if he didn’t go for a drive? If he was with another woman, is he afraid to say so because he doesn’t want to lose you? If he wasn’t with another woman, then where was he? And then there’s the really important question.”

  “More important than any of those?”

  “The most important question. You might be the only one who can answer it.”

  “What?”

  “Do you think Joe could hurt somebody? If he found out about your rendezvous with Bob, could be he jealous enough to kill him?”

  Before Bella could recover from the shock and horror of Caprice asking that question, they heard chairs scraping against the linoleum in the kitchen. As the two men entered the living room and she and Bella did the same, Caprice noticed the sharp contrast between Grant and Joe.

  Grant wore a charcoal suit, a pale gray shirt, and a red-black-and-gray patterned tie. He was the epitome of the thirty-something professional. No one would ever guess by looking at him the tragedy he’d been through. He never spoke about his divorce and the loss of his child. His guard was usually up. Her best friend, Roz, insisted there were thumping vibrations in the air when she and Grant were in the same room. Her mother had told her that she treated Grant with kid gloves. Not so much anymore. Not so much since the murder investigation they’d gone through together in May.

  But thumping vibrations?

  That was just from the strain that was created because the two of them disagreed about a lot. They didn’t think the same way. They often seemed to be at odds. Yet she also realized she’d trust Grant with her life.

  When she looked at Joe, she saw a man who wished he could wear jeans and a T-shirt to work every day. She saw a man who wanted to come first and foremost with his wife over and above her family. She saw a man with traditional values who’d never before seemed to be hypocritical about any of them.

  But was he? Did he have a mean streak, instead of just a short temper? Did he do more than raise his voice when he grew angry?

  She and Bella heard Joe say to Grant, “I can’t pay you very much. We’re strapped right now, and with the baby coming, we only have some savings from . . .” He stopped. “It’s from presents her family gives us.”

  Caprice heard the near-resentment in Joe’s voice.

  She heard even more when Joe added, “We use it for the kids when doctor visits get out of hand. That kind of thing.”

  Caprice saw Bella’s chin go up and her shoulders square. She wasn’t sure what was going to come from her sister . . . but something was.

  Bella cut in. “I have money saved.”

  Joe looked as if she’d just dropped a bowling ball on his foot. “What?”

  “I have some money saved. All those costumes I’ve been sewing at Halloween the past couple of years, they’re not all for our kids. Maybe you didn’t notice what I was working on, but I sold them to other moms. I’ve been stowing the money away. It’s in a shoe up in my closet, up in our closet. I know it’s probably not enough, but it can get Grant started.”

  Grant’s gaze met Caprice’s, and they both remembered her phone call to him. Now he said, “I know money is something we all have to think about, but for this morning, let’s just put it aside.” He checked his watch. “We don’t want to be late for that appointment with Detective Jones at the station, and I’m sure Vince will already be waiting there. If we go past this initial representation, then we’ll discuss money and payment. All right?”

  Caprice could have hugged him. Because he was doing such a nice thing for her sister, of course.

  Of course.

  This time Caprice sat on that hard bench at Kismet’s police department for three hours. Three hours.

  She didn’t have to be here. Grant had told her she shouldn’t be here. But she had to show Bella and Joe some support. Especially Bella. She was pregnant, for goodness sakes. With all this stress, who knew what could happen.

  When Vince, Grant, Joe, and Bella emerged from the hall and spilled into the reception area, Caprice wanted to run to them. But she didn’t. She waited. Joe and Bella looked wrung out. Vince and Grant just looked serious. No one spoke until they all went outside.

  Then Caprice demanded, “So tell me what happened.”

  “No charges . . . yet,” Vince added, simply giving her information she already knew. After all, they had all left the station without anyone being handcuffed and detained.

  Joe shook his head. “They just kept going around and around and around in circles. I answered the same questions at least thirty times.”

  “You were consistent,” Grant said.

  That didn’t tell Caprice anything. She didn’t know if consistent was bad or good, though it obviously meant the police hadn’t caught Joe in a lie.

  “My history with Bob came out,” Bella said in a small voice. “They knew bits and pieces. I had to tell them we were serious once.” Her eyes met her husband’s, and she looked so regretful.

  If Detective Jones knew all about Bella and Bob, then they could ascribe a motive to either Bella or Joe. Caprice had to dig up more information about Bob. She had to find out if there were others who might have a motive for killing him. Detective Jones had been shortsighted once before, and chances were good he would be again.

  “Was Chief Powalski there?” Caprice asked her brother. The chief of police and her dad were friends, and Mack had been like a favorite uncle to her and her brother and sisters. He’d helped Caprice on her last case, but she didn’t know what would happen now.

  “He was there,” Vince said. “But he’s not involving himself in this. He knows us, so he can’t.”

  Maybe he couldn’t be involved himself, but just maybe he could watch over them all.

  “I have to call Mom,” Bella said anxiously. “I spoke with her early this morning so she didn’t find out I was involved in this from someone else. She said to call her when I was finished here. But I’d rather make the call when I get home.”

  As a high school English teacher, her mom enjoyed her summer break by spending more time with Nana, gardening, and, this summer, cataloging recipes on the computer. So many of Nana’s recipes weren’t specific about measurements. Her mother was trying to nail them down so anyone could make them.

  “I can drop you and Joe off at your place, then Grant and Vince can get back to their office,” Caprice offered.

  “And what are you going to do?” Grant asked her, glancing at her psychedelic van, painted in swirling colors and large flowers. It was parked beside his silver SUV.

  She knew why he was asking. He expected her to get into trouble. She just might. But she didn’t have to tell him that. “I have to go home a
nd let Shasta out.”

  “Shasta? You took in another stray?” The censuring note had left his voice, and he even sounded a little amused.

  “I did. She’s a cocker spaniel, and she’s pregnant. So I don’t like to be away too long at a stretch. I have a video conference at two, and lots of paperwork to finish. I had an open house yesterday, and I have to make follow-up calls about that.”

  Grant eyed her speculatively. “And then?”

  She might as well tell him, because eventually he’d find out she wasn’t going to leave this case alone. “I might take a look around the community center.”

  “Caprice, it’s a crime scene. Stay away from it.” His voice was hard.

  Vince, Bella, and Joe were all looking their way, obviously interested in the interchange.

  With others watching, she kept her cool and refused to let her usually long fuse ignite. “I know it’s a crime scene, and I wouldn’t even consider crossing the yellow tape. But there’s a basketball court outside of that tape. I expect there’ll be some teenagers dribbling and shooting baskets there, out of curiosity if nothing else. The center will probably put one of its counselors outside just to watch over them.”

  “And just why do you want to talk to the teenagers?” Grant seemed to be holding onto his temper, too.

  “Because some of them might have been working with Bob on the mural. Some of them might have heard things. I want to give the police suspects other than Bella and Joe.”

  Vince stepped in now. “Detective Jones won’t appreciate your interference again.”

  “I solved his case for him the last time.” When Vince was about to protest, she held up her hand. “I won’t do anything he wouldn’t approve of. Really. I’m just going to talk to some teens.” When Vince and Grant exchanged looks, and their mouths went taut with everything they weren’t going to say, Caprice motioned to Bella and Joe. “Come on, I’ll get the two of you home.”

  Then maybe Bella and her husband would talk. Maybe they’d draw closer instead of pulling farther apart.

  The first thing Caprice did when she returned home was find Sophia again. Giving both her and Shasta the run of the house last night and this morning might not have been the most intelligent thing she’d ever done. But she didn’t feel it was fair to lock Sophia in the bedroom and give Shasta free rein. On the other hand, she hadn’t wanted to put Shasta in the garage when she didn’t know how long she’d be gone.

  The only evidence that the two might have had another chase was the scrambled throw rug. Other than that, nothing was broken. Nothing was scattered. Nothing was where it shouldn’t be. However, once more she found Sophia in the closet.

  Staring down at her, Caprice asked, “Are you going to do this every time I leave? A nap’s one thing, but holing yourself up in here is another.”

  Sophia looked up at her with eyes that said, You let that creature loose again.

  “You need to make friends,” Caprice told her. “Shasta could be around for a long time, let alone her pups.”

  She crouched down and gave Sophia a good, long petting session while Shasta sat outside the office door, waiting and whining a little.

  Finally Caprice stood and told her cat, “I’m putting food out in the kitchen, and Shasta will be outside playing for awhile. So stop pouting and come join us when you’re ready.”

  Sophia blinked, crossed her paws, and didn’t look as if she were going to move anytime soon.

  With a shrug, Caprice took Shasta to the back door and let her outside. When she’d dropped Bella and Joe off at their house, they’d both seemed shell-shocked. The silence in the van had been uncomfortable and scary. Caprice wanted them to hug each other and support each other, but . . .

  She’d brought in the stack of mail from the mailbox attached to the brick outside the front door. As Shasta wandered about the yard, Caprice stood at the doorway and watched, absently sorting through the envelopes. She stopped when she came to an official-looking one with the return address Women for a Better Kismet.

  She’d spoken to the group a couple of times since she’d been home-staging, and had attended their monthly meetings when she could. She often made contacts there. She also enjoyed the rapport from the mix of stay-at-home moms and professional women who just wanted to make their town a better place. Usually notices of meetings arrived in her e-mail. Maybe this was about plans for something special they’d organized.

  But as she opened the envelope and read the letter inside, she realized this event was a done deal. She was nominated to receive an award! She was familiar with the yearly banquet at the Country Squire Golf and Recreation Club on the edge of Kismet. It was an event that raised money and helped spread the word about the group. But this year, it was going to be a very special event for her. She’d been nominated for the organization’s Woman of the Year Award for her achievement in developing her small business into a success, for her work with stray animals and for her assistance to the police in solving the Ted Winslow murder case. The winner would be announced at the banquet. How exciting was that?

  Without any hesitation, she found her phone and speed-dialed Nikki. She was sure her mom would be tied up on the phone with Bella for a while.

  A half hour later, still tossing a ball for Shasta, Caprice ended the call with her sister and found she was both happy and sad. Nikki had been so excited for her, and Caprice was sure she’d spread the news. But they’d also talked about Bella, and Caprice was genuinely worried. They all were.

  But worrying just took her in circles, so she decided to do more than worry. After her video conference, she was heading to the community center. Grant had his reservations, and she knew they were valid ones, but those reservations weren’t going to stop her. She had to help Bella.

  Around four o’clock Caprice parked about a half block from the center. She walked down the opposite side of the street, passing the downtown park. This year the center was planning on holding a fund-raising day there. Had the plans for that been derailed because of the murder? The board would have to decide.

  The day had grown quite a bit warmer. After spending the afternoon in her air-conditioning, Caprice worked up a sweat quickly as she hurried across the street and down the broken pavement toward the community center’s basketball court. Yellow crime scene tape still surrounded the building and parking lot. Caprice knew the York County forensic team would finish as quickly as it could because manpower to keep a crime scene intact was expensive.

  A basketball game was in progress, and lots of dribbling and guarding was going on. Groups of girls bent their heads together along the perimeter, watching the game. Well, not watching the game, but watching the guys play the game. She spotted an older gentleman who looked to be around her dad’s age in a polo shirt and khakis with a whistle hanging around his neck. If she tried to talk to the kids, he’d probably disapprove, so she might as well just introduce herself and go from there.

  Approaching him, she stood beside him and watched the game. “It’s a good thing these kids have the community center so they can let off some energy.”

  “Wish I had some of that energy,” the man muttered and turned to her. He asked, “Are you one of the volunteers?”

  She held out her hand. “Caprice De Luca.”

  He extended his hand to shake hers. “Elias Treadwell. Everyone calls me Eli.”

  “It’s good to meet you, Eli. To answer your question, no, I’m not one of the volunteers. But . . . my sister found the man who was murdered here.”

  “Bella Santini.”

  “You know her?”

  “I know her in a roundabout way. She made costumes for my grandkids for Halloween last year. She and my daughter sometimes carpool. I spotted Bella one afternoon last week when she stopped in here to talk to Preston.”

  So Bella had seen Bob other than for their coffee dates?

  “Bob was here working on the mural?” Caprice guessed.

  “Yes, it’s something the kids enjoy doing with him. At l
east those who don’t like basketball so much.”

  “I was hoping to talk to some of the kids who worked with Bob on that mural. Do you think that’s possible?”

  Eli studied Caprice and, putting two and two together, came up with the right combination. “Is your sister a suspect?”

  “The police have questioned her, like they’ve questioned everyone. But I am worried about her. I thought a little additional information might not hurt.”

  “I watch those cop shows on TV, and you’re probably right.” He pointed to a boy standing by himself. Eli nodded to him. “That’s Danny Flannery. He was working with Bob on the mural, but . . .”

  “But?” Caprice prodded.

  “He actually got into a fistfight with Bob and threw a couple of punches. Bob just mostly defended himself, but I think Danny was intent on doing damage.”

  “They had a fistfight here?”

  “Yep. No one knows what it was about. Danny wouldn’t say, and neither would Bob. He was suspended from the center for a while because of it.”

  “When was this?”

  Eli thought about it. “A couple of months ago. He and Bob have hardly talked since. You might want to start with Danny.”

  A few moments later, Caprice wasn’t sure what angle to take when she approached Danny Flannery. Then she decided honesty was the best course. Why would he talk to a stranger otherwise?

  The boy’s expression was sullen and his body language defensive as he leaned against the fence, baseball cap backward and slightly askew, and oversized T-shirt drooping practically to the knees of his worn jeans. He looked a little rough, and Grant’s warning still rang in her head. But fear wasn’t an emotion she wanted to lay claim to, not when Bella and Joe’s future could be in jeopardy.

 

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