After pouring the batter into two foil baking pans she’d greased and floured, she popped them in the oven and set the timer. Pulling her tablet computer from its charger on the counter, she sat at her kitchen table, checking her list for Sunday’s open house, making sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. But every once in a while, unbidden, Bella’s scream re-echoed in her head and she relived finding Bella with Bob’s body. It would take a while for those pictures to fade . . . a long time.
She glanced outside where Kent was working. The baking blueberry bread filled the house with a wonderful aroma. When the timer rang, she tested the bread with a toothpick, found it had baked just right, and set it on a wire rack to cool. Ten minutes later, she removed one of the loaves from its pan.
Although she’d offered Kent a glass of iced tea and a slice of warm bread, he’d declined, said he was fine, and continued painting. He obviously wanted to be left alone, except for Shasta. It wasn’t unusual for some animal lovers to prefer their furry friends to humans.
Was he a viable suspect? She just hoped the police were looking further than Bella and Joe.
By the time the blueberry bread had completely cooled, Kent had finished outside, packed up, and left. Caprice wondered if he was always stoic and always quiet. Maybe he was just the type of man who didn’t have much to say.
She’d have to ask Josie about that.
After her morning in the yard, Shasta was ready for lunch and a nap. Caprice smiled as Sophia deigned to join her in the kitchen, munching on dry food while Caprice grabbed a serving of pasta salad from the fridge. Fifteen minutes later, she was out the door and on her way to see Roz.
Most locations in Kismet were only five to ten minutes away. Caprice drove to a section of town that had recently been labeled Restoration Row. She should have realized when she saw the address, 11 Bristol Row, that she’d be headed to the street that the town council and a group of investors had taken over. Located there were some of the oldest row houses Kismet had to offer. The city council had arranged with investors to buy the rundown properties, then restore and refurbish them so that this lagging section of Kismet would attract a higher caliber of renters, as well as more businesses. Brick facing had been utilized halfway up the facades of the houses, and gray siding with black shutters hung on the upper half. Trees had been planted at intervals along the street, and old-fashioned lamplights looked like the gas lighting of old. The houses all had similar porches with steps and black aluminum railings.
Caprice wasn’t sure what she thought about the street. It was a uniform look, and she preferred neighborhoods with individual, unique houses. But the refurbishment certainly was an improvement over broken and boarded-up windows, crumbling steps, and peeling paint. Apparently Roz was renting one of these buildings for her fashion boutique.
A public parking lot situated at the end of the street had meters. Caprice dropped in two quarters, hoping that would do it. She’d have to come out and feed the meter again if she was here longer than a half hour.
When strains of “A Hard Day’s Night” came from her purse, she dug into it for her phone. She had a text from Vince.
Where are you?
She quickly typed in, At Roz’s store.
He just texted back, Stay there until I get there.
How did he know where the store was? She replied with a frowny face icon. He knew she didn’t like to take orders. What was buzzing around in his mind this morning? If he drove, he’d be here in two minutes. If he walked, it would be closer to five. His office wasn’t very far away.
Putting Vince out of her mind for the moment, she went up the three steps. She didn’t know whether to knock or just open the door. Finally she settled on both. She rapped a few times and opened the door.
Bedlam met her. She heard hammering on the second floor. Workmen in hard hats and heavy boots were working near sawhorses in the interior room. Roz, ever fashionable in a pale green tank top, matching slacks, and sandals, waved from her position at their side, excused herself, and came toward Caprice, her gold earrings swinging. She was beautiful in a model kind of way, and Caprice wondered if she’d ever get married again, especially after what she had experienced in her first marriage. Caprice knew a hurt heart didn’t heal quickly.
Hers still had wounds from Travis. Divorced men were dangerous in more ways than one. If they couldn’t forget their first marriage, they still might have feelings for their ex. She’d never forget about that, just as she’d never forget about her first serious relationship and how Craig had broken her heart by e-mail. She was happy now, so she guessed everything had turned out for the best. However, pain lasted as long as the memories. That’s why she hadn’t been involved with anyone before Seth for a long while.
“Don’t you just look too cool, in tie-dye spaghetti straps and a fuchsia skort. I don’t know, Caprice, that’s not quite vintage.”
Roz was teasing her about her penchant to buy vintage clothes at Secrets of the Past. But it was a little harder to wear vintage in summer, though she’d kept up the theme with her tie-dye.
She motioned to the workmen and the noise upstairs. “You’re really getting things done.”
“I am. We are.” She laughed. “It’s exciting. Once it’s not dangerous here, I want to bring Dylan with me so he’s not alone at the town house.”
“You could get him a friend,” Caprice teased. “In fact, remember, I’m going to have pups in a few weeks.”
Roz shook her head. “A pup is a big responsibility, and with the business opening, that might be a little too much. Can you take a look around and work up some ideas for displays for me?”
“I bet you already have ideas.”
“A few. Let me tell you about them.”
So she did while she took Caprice on a tour of the downstairs and the upstairs.
“I know having two floors is a little unconventional, but I can specialize that way. I can use one room upstairs just for evening wear, while another could be purses and shoes. The great thing is that there’s a back stairway, too, so I can put in a chairlift and have a ramp going outside. Anyone who wants to shop here can.”
“You’re barring no expense.” Roz was a rich woman, but Caprice knew she wasn’t doing this just to make money.
“I want to make women feel special, to help them to look good. I might even bring a cosmetologist in once a week and do workshops. What do you think?”
“I think you’re brimming with ideas, and all of them are good.”
“And you’ll work up a design for me? I need to know the best way to position racks, how big I should make the dressing rooms.”
Just then the front door opened without a knock, and Vince stood there, looking formidable. Caprice’s inner “uh oh” alert bonged because she knew he was here to see her.
Still, in spite of his expression, Roz said pleasantly, “Hi, Vince.”
The creases on his brow eased a bit as he returned, “Hi Roz. I’ll have those papers drawn up for you by next week. I need to talk to Caprice, if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind.”
As Roz moved away toward the back of her boutique, Caprice asked her brother, “Just what do you have to tell me that you couldn’t tell me over the phone?” Then she swallowed hard. “Is it Bella? Joe?”
“No, not in the way you mean. I needed to see you face-to-face. I heard you hired Kent Osgood to paint the trim on your back porch. Since when did that trim need painting?”
“Since I wanted to refresh it.”
Vince grunted. “You pummeled him with questions, didn’t you? About Bob and their relationship.”
Now she did feel a bit guilty. “I asked a few questions, not many.”
“I’m going to tell you this once, Caprice, just once. Stay out of it, or you’re going to make everything worse for Bella and Joe.”
Chapter Nine
Ever excited about her date with Seth on Saturday, Caprice tried to keep busy in her home office before he arrived. There wa
s always work to do, but right now she couldn’t concentrate on it. The investigation into Bob’s murder revolved like a merry-go-round in her mind, as did her worry about Bella and Joe.
When Sophia sauntered into the room to investigate what Shasta was doing, Caprice pushed her wheeled chair back, held out her arms, and twirled. “What do you think?”
Sophia didn’t seem impressed, so Caprice held her arms out and did it again. Shasta barked and took a few steps back as the chair moved a little.
“Shasta approves,” Caprice told her feline.
At Secrets of the Past, she’d purchased a vintage-style sundress for tonight that was printed with big yellow, pink, and purple flowers. It was designed with a full skirt that she hoped didn’t add more pounds visually. Even though she was about ten pounds overweight, her waist was one of her good features. This dress emphasized it. She’d bought yellow pumps to go with her yellow-vinyl vintage bag.
Her doorbell rang and she jumped up, scaring both Shasta and Sophia, who scattered.
“Sorry, girls.”
Both cat and dog were already roaming the living room when she opened her front door to Seth.
He smiled at her, one of those bone-melting smiles. At least her bones melted. He was wearing black cargo pants and a pale green polo. If a man could be considered yummy, he certainly was tonight.
She opened the screen door, and he didn’t hesitate to come in, crouch down, and pet Shasta.
“She’s looking good.”
Seth didn’t look into her eyes as he usually did, and Caprice wondered what was going on.
But then he stood, took Caprice’s hand, and pulled her into a quick kiss. “I missed you.”
The words certainly sounded sincere, and now he did look at her from head to toe. Then he grinned. “You’re going to be the prettiest date at the Blue Moon Grille. I even think we’re going to have a full moon tonight.”
The Blue Moon Grille had an outside deck, but it was always well-populated.
“We might not be able to get a table, not on a night like this.”
Seth gave her a wink. “I just happen to know someone who works there. He put our name on a reservations list. We’re good.”
She certainly hoped they were. This relationship was so new she was concerned something would mess it up. Maybe she’d mess it up. Her sisters constantly told her she sabotaged new relationships because she was afraid of getting involved with anyone again. She usually pooh-poohed that and told them she was just busy. But deep down she knew there was truth in it.
Seth asked, “Do you have to let Shasta out before we go?”
“No. I took her for a walk and we played a bit. She just went out by herself after I got dressed. She was outside a lot today. And yesterday, I had the back porch trim painted, and she got friendly with the painter.”
Seth narrowed his eyes. “Did this painter work with Bob Preston?”
“Well, yes, he just happened to.”
Seth shook his head. “I’m not going to say it.”
“Good.”
She picked up her purse from where it lay on the seat of the high-back mirrored hall bench, where the foil-wrapped loaf of blueberry bread also sat. She picked up the loaf as well.
Seth opened the door for her.
They were companionably quiet on the drive to the Blue Moon, which was a bit unusual because they always had a lot to say to each other. But Seth seemed to be in a reflective mood, and she remembered the last time she saw him, the way he’d held back when he’d kissed her. Her sixth sense told her something was going on, and her sixth sense was rarely wrong. Her Nana Celia had helped her develop it.
From the time she was a little girl, when Nana would see an expression on her face, she’d asked, “What’s your stomach telling you?” It had taken Caprice a while to realize exactly what Nana was talking about. But soon she’d learned to follow the stomach quivers, the sighs that came from deep within, the little warning bells that rang in more than her head.
Nana’s coaching over the years had paid off. So, now, she didn’t know what to expect tonight. Not at all.
The line at the Blue Moon Grille stretched through its reception area on the first floor of an arts and crafts mall and practically out the front door. But Seth wasn’t daunted by it. He took her hand and led her to the hostess.
“Reservation,” he said. “For the deck. Seth Randolph.”
As a doctor, Seth had to be confident in his diagnoses and in his decisions. He seemed to treat the rest of his life with that same confidence. That was one of the qualities she admired about him. There were so many others.
Always a gentleman, Seth let Caprice precede him up the stairs that led to the second-floor dining area and the deck outside. The chatter in the main dining room was loud around the bar and at the tables. They were glad to escape through sliding-glass doors to the outside deck, where the hostess showed them to a corner table. Caprice liked that idea because they wouldn’t have other patrons at their sides or at their backs, just in front of them. Those corner tables were a little more quiet and hard to reserve. There was a vase of wildflowers on the table, which was surrounded by two black wrought-iron chairs that might have been uncomfortable but weren’t because cushy cushions had been tied to the rounded backs and the seats. The glass-topped table held two white place mats, silverware, and crystal.
Caprice motioned to it all. “Thank you for this. It’s lovely.”
“I wanted to bring you someplace nice where we wouldn’t be interrupted.”
As he held her chair for her and she sat, she looked up at him over her shoulder. “So we won’t be interrupted tonight?”
She knew Seth couldn’t always control that. Sometimes, whether he was on call or not, when an emergency popped up he had to go.
“There are two doctors covering tonight, and no one is supposed to call me.”
She laughed. “You must have bribed them.”
“You, Miss De Luca, are way too smart for your age. I promised them tickets to Orioles games.”
“You certainly do have connections.”
“I meet a lot of people in the course of a day, and not just patients. Patients have friends and families. Some of them are grateful for what we do. They give me their cards, and they say ‘If ever I can help you in any way’ . . . So once in a while, I make a call.”
“That’s nice.”
He could see she meant it.
She went on, “Maybe we should just go back to using the barter system. It would be a lot friendlier and a lot fairer, don’t you think?”
“If someone changed my oil, I could give him a physical for free.”
“Or if someone gave me blueberries, I could bake blueberry bread and return the favor. I made a loaf for you. That’s what I left in your car. Put it in the refrigerator when you get home.”
“I think I like this bartering. Just what would you and I barter?”
“Maybe if you use your imagination . . .” she teased.
“Oh, no. You’re not going to give me a kitten for taking your temperature.”
Now she really laughed. “You’ve got my number.”
Seth smiled, then looked away, and she wondered if she’d said something wrong. But the waiter came to take their order.
“No expense spared tonight,” Seth said. “Order whatever you want, from soup to nuts.”
“It’s a good thing I joined the gym last month.”
“You mentioned that. Are you using weights?”
“No. Mostly I’m swimming. It’s the one form of exercise I actually enjoy. The problem is finding the time to do it. Lately I don’t get there till around seven in the evening. Lap swimming is from seven to eight.”
Caprice started her evening with a strawberry daiquiri. The bartender used fresh strawberries, and that was rare. She knew the price reflected that, but Seth had said to spare no expense tonight. They ordered two plates of appetizers—fried cheese sticks and an artichoke, cheese, and spinach dip that was war
m and served with toasted rounds. Nikki made a similar dip, and this was almost as good.
Over the best ribs in town, glazed by a blackberry barbeque sauce, they laughed, licked sticky fingers, and shared a monumental dish of steak fries dripping with cheese. It wasn’t long before Caprice was telling Seth everything she’d found out about Bob. He listened well, asked perceptive questions, and didn’t wag his finger at her, maybe because he was an investigator at heart. After all, he had to solve the puzzle of people’s illnesses. He took a look at all the information she’d gathered and linked it together in pretty much the same way she had. This early, no one person was an obvious suspect, if you didn’t believe Bella or Joe did it.
Seth shook his head when she brought up that point again.
“Granted, I haven’t known them very long, but you’ve told me a lot about your sister Bella, and how the two of you grew up with Nikki and Vince. She might think about murdering somebody, but she’d never do it. Joe I really don’t know as well. But the few times I’ve talked with him, he seems like a solid guy. He wants what’s good for his family, even though he might not know the best way to get it. I don’t think he’d put himself or them in jeopardy by doing something so stupid.”
“Now that he’s explained about his gambling,” Caprice said, “I don’t think so, either. I haven’t heard from Bella since the police searched their house, so I don’t know what happened after he told her.”
“But you’ll be calling her soon to find out.”
“I have to nudge sometimes. That’s what sisters do.”
“I think it’s great your family is as close as it is.”
Was he telling her the truth? Could he ever be part of a large family like hers?
This time their conversation slowed to a stop because a guitarist strolled around the deck. Caprice recognized the folk melodies, beginning with “Blowin’ in the Wind.”
She leaned close to Seth, asking him, “Did you ask him to play that tonight?”
Deadly Décor (A Caprice De Luca Mystery) Page 12