“I’m still at PA Pharm. Not from here. See you at three.” Lonnie ended the call.
“What was that about?” Roz asked. “You look a shade paler.”
“Because this afternoon I could get some answers as to why Ted was murdered.”
Chapter Fourteen
The May day was balmy, and the curbside planters were lush with pink petunias. Silver maples towered over landscaped islands meant to give the shopping center a garden appeal.
Since both Caprice’s car and van were highly recognizable, she’d borrowed Nikki’s less-conspicuous sedan. The car had lots of dings and could belong to anyone. When Caprice had told her sister why she wanted to borrow it, Nikki’s eyes had lit up as she’d asked, “An adventure? Can I go with you?”
But Caprice had nixed that idea because Lonnie had sounded nervous enough. Bringing someone else along could make her even jumpier. It was possible that she might not even show up.
Caprice parked in the south end of the lot near an island . . . away from any other cars. She was a good distance from the back doors of the shopping center but could spot shoppers coming and going. In the middle of the afternoon, when the weather was almost summery, mall retail traffic was minimal.
Suddenly Caprice was aware of a white, late-model, compact sedan pulling into the parking lot. The driver made a circle around the lot, wove around a few islands, then slid into the slot next to Caprice. Lonnie was wearing a straw hat that hid her hair. She must have piled it on top of her head. Although she was also wearing sunglasses, Caprice could still recognize her. This disguise wouldn’t go much further than Roz’s had.
Lonnie glanced over at her and motioned Caprice into her car.
That was easily accomplished. Making sure her phone was clipped to her wide leather belt, her keys in her pocket, she transferred to Lonnie’s car, climbing into the passenger seat.
“Are you okay?” Caprice saw that Lonnie was pale under her sunglasses.
After checking right and left, seeing no one else in the vicinity, Lonnie removed her sunglasses. “I don’t know. I realize I’m being paranoid. But I’m sitting on a powder keg.”
“At PA Pharm?”
Lonnie took her hands from the steering wheel and shifted toward Caprice. “I’m no longer working there.”
“You quit?”
“No, I was let go today. Mr. Thompson said they’re not going to replace Mr. Winslow so they no longer need me. Ever since Mr. Winslow died, I felt they were keeping a close eye on me. They wouldn’t give me any computer tasks, just odds and ends of secretarial work. Nothing important like I used to work on for Mr. Winslow.”
“What did you consider important?”
“Typing up R&D memos, printing inventory reports from our warehouses, taking notes at department meetings, making sure the monthly report didn’t have any errors.”
“So why do you think they took you away from what you usually did?”
“Because they knew they were going to let me go and they didn’t want me to see something I shouldn’t.”
“Do you have any idea what that was?” Caprice guessed Lonnie wouldn’t have called this meeting unless she did.
“I was in Mr. Winslow’s office before I left—just sort of saying a last good-bye to everything there—when I saw Mr. Thompson’s line light up. I was furious they were letting me go, and I guess I just wanted to be difficult. So I picked up the phone and listened in.” She said it defiantly, still obviously piqued.
“They couldn’t tell you listened in?”
“I don’t know for sure. Those lines are set up for conference calls. Mr. Thompson, Mr. Pendergast—he’s one of the pharmaceutical reps in Delaware— and Mr. Bodine from our Texas warehouse were talking.”
Caprice caught the “our” reference. Lonnie had been a loyal employee, and apparently she found it hard to separate herself from the company.
“There was lots of background noise coming from the warehouse, so I think the click when I picked up might have gone unnoticed. I was real careful when I clicked off, but I suppose they could have heard that.”
“But they wouldn’t know you specifically had listened in.”
“I don’t think so. The line is set up so any department head can conference.”
“Tell me what you heard.”
After hesitating and glancing around the parking lot again, she admitted, “They were talking fast. And they were all worried and sharp with each other. With good reason. They changed the expiration date on antibiotics to move inventory! Mr. Bodine was worried they’d go to jail because that’s illegal. But Mr. Thompson seemed more worried that if what they did was ever found out, PA Pharm’s stock price will plummet. From what they said, I think Mr. Winslow was ready to blow the whistle to save himself.”
If what Lonnie had surmised from the conversation was true, it could have meant financial ruin for PA Pharm, and that was a strong motive for murder. “You have to go to the authorities with this.”
“Oh, no, I don’t. Are you kidding? If someone at PA Pharm killed Ted, they wouldn’t hesitate to come after me.”
“If you go to the authorities and they begin an investigation, the whole scandal will be broken wide open. Once it’s public knowledge, you won’t have anything to fear. But if they know you know and you’re a threat, that’s something else.”
Wringing her hands, Lonnie looked unconvinced. “I don’t know. I’m not sure what to do. I could go stay with my sister in Virginia for a while . . .”
“If you run from this, Lonnie, what happens next?”
“I don’t know. But I don’t have any real evidence. Just what I heard. That won’t hold up anywhere, will it?”
“Probably not. I’ll have to ask Roz’s lawyer.” She saw increased worry on Lonnie’s face. “I won’t tell him anything specific for now. I’ll just give him a hypothetical.”
Lonnie still looked worried.
“You came to me because you didn’t know what to do with the information. Right?”
Lonnie slowly nodded.
“Let me look into this. I’ll be discreet.”
After she blew out a breath, Lonnie pulled her hat down over her brow. “Talk to Mrs. Winslow’s lawyer. But I didn’t hear anything. I don’t know anything.”
Caprice thought about merely calling Grant. But she was on the way to a loft address downtown to meet with a perspective client and she could just stop in and see Grant on the way. If he was out, she’d leave a message for him to call her.
When Vince rented the first floor of the old house he’d turned into professional offices, he’d furnished his space in a practical rather than showy way. Of course, he hadn’t asked her to help. She would have taken advantage of the older home and moved in a few antiques, woven drapes, Tiffany lamps. He’d gone to an office-supply store and purchased laminated desks and chrome lamps, although he had sprung for a wool rug he’d found at an outlet for the reception area. However, there wasn’t an overall theme or welcoming effect from any of it.
“Practical” seemed to work for Vince and Grant, but she could have developed the space with so much more feeling.
Vince’s response to her offer to redo it for him sometime was, “No one who’s making a will, getting a divorce, settling an estate, or closing a deal on a house cares what my offices look like.”
She wasn’t convinced that was true.
A staircase to the second floor was located in the small foyer. She passed it and opened the door into Vince’s space.
Giselle was stationed at her desk, her posture perfect as usual. Her wiry, gray hair was spiked in a style usually worn by women who were much younger than her fifty-four years. She wore the latest trends in makeup too behind her round tortoiseshell glasses. Today green eyeliner and shadow matched her blouse and slacks.
Noticing that her unexpected visitor was Caprice, she smiled. “I haven’t seen you for months! Burning the candle at both ends?” Giselle liked proverbs and old sayings. Her commentary was loaded
with them.
“I’ve been busy.” Caprice leaned closer to the office in a conspiratorial gesture. “And we both know Vince doesn’t like to be interrupted.” His office door was open now. “He’s not here?”
“You just missed him. Can I help?”
“Actually, I’m here to see Grant.”
“I’ll buzz him,” Giselle said without blinking an eye. That’s why she was such a good office manager. Nothing seemed to fluster her.
When Grant emerged from his office, he looked so . . . lawyerlike, even though he’d discarded his suit coat. His white dress shirt was pristine, his blue striped tie perfectly knotted and centered. “Unflappable” was a term she’d apply to him.
She remembered how expertly he’d defused the situation with Valerie Swanson at Ted’s funeral. Possibly smoothing over sticky situations was all in a day’s work for him.
“I have a few minutes,” he told Giselle. “Hold my calls.” He motioned Caprice inside.
Although Grant’s office hadn’t been professionally decorated, it had character. Two wine-colored leather club chairs with brass fittings down the seams faced his desk. A painting of the Grand Canyon hung on one wall, accompanied by two sand-painted plaques with Native American symbols. Although his desk was a laminate, twin to the one in Vince’s office, his pottery pencil holder was hand-painted with images of wolves. His blotter complemented the chairs.
“Do you handle divorces?” she asked him.
“I didn’t know you were married,” he quipped. “Do you have a husband hidden away somewhere?”
She waved off his question as she plopped into one of the chairs. “I was remembering how you appeased Valerie at the funeral. You handled her expertly, as if you’re used to dealing with distraught mistresses.”
“I handle a few divorces. Vince does most of that. But I also have to facilitate estate settlements, and sometimes family members can become irate, even hostile. A good lawyer knows when he has to be a mediator.”
After stopping beside her chair and gazing down at her for a few seconds—as if he was getting used to her presence in his office—he went to his high-backed leather desk chair and lowered himself into it. His gaze was as direct as his question. “What are you doing here?”
“I was going to call, but . . .” She hesitated. Maybe she shouldn’t have come. Maybe sharing what Lonnie had told her wasn’t a good idea. What if Lonnie was in danger?
Grant studied her intently and waited.
Finally, she came to a decision. Grant was Roz’s lawyer, so she had to give him a clue as to the dealings at PA Pharm. “What if I told you there were several people with a motive to kill Ted?”
His face was expressionless. “I’d ask you to name them.”
“What if I told you someone at PA Pharm had given the order to do something illegal, and some of the management heads were afraid of the problem going public?”
“Where did you get this information?”
“I can’t say.”
Grant’s eyes narrowed. “You won’t say.” His line of vision shifted to the window and the brick row house next door. Then he redirected his focus once again to her. “What did PA Pharm do?”
“They changed the expiration date on antibiotics so they could sell them.”
With a low whistle, Grant shook his head. “On many drugs that wouldn’t matter. But with antibiotics . . . Just how much do you know about this?”
“Not much.”
“Is there evidence?”
“No. Just an overheard phone conversation.”
“Did Ted’s secretary give you this?”
Caprice didn’t answer.
“Right,” he muttered. “You can’t say. But that answer is obvious.”
“If someone has this information, should he or she go to the authorities?”
“There is no evidence.”
“But if the person who gave the order knows someone overheard him—”
“If we’re talking about Ted’s secretary, and if the person who killed Ted was someone from PA Pharm, she could be in danger. Let me look into the reporting procedure.”
“Ted was going to blow the whistle, maybe to save himself.”
Grant leaned back in his chair. “I might have to visit the D.A.’s office. This would shift the heat from Roz.”
“My source doesn’t want to come forward.”
“It could be the safest thing for her if she did.”
“I didn’t say my source was a she.”
“You didn’t have to. You’re going to have to work on your poker face, Caprice. Your eyes give too much away.”
They sat gazing at each other for a very long moment.
Caprice glanced away first, down at the purse in her lap. “I don’t want to regret telling you.”
“I understand. I realize how explosive this information is. I won’t put Miss Hippensteel in danger. I’m more concerned about you. You’re asking questions. If you ask them of Ted’s killer or he feels threatened, you’re the one in danger.”
She thought she heard real caring in Grant’s voice, and that freaked her out. So much so that she stood. “I’ll be fine.”
“Famous last words. If anything happens to you, Vince will blame me. Your family will blame me.”
Was he only worried about being responsible? That thought irked her. “No matter what happens, I absolve you of blame. No one’s going to stop me from asking questions or getting to the bottom of this.”
She swung around, intent on exiting his office and shutting the door behind her. But he caught her arm before she reached the door.
There was some kind of apology in his eyes, but she wasn’t sure what it was for. However, he didn’t express it.
“I won’t do anything stupid,” she promised him.
“You’d better not,” he warned her and stepped away.
On her way to her car, she wondered what would happen if she did.
“So what do you think, Roz?” Vince asked, as the De Luca family—all except their dad, mom, and Nana—sat in Bella’s living room discussing their mother’s birthday.
Caprice had jumped in automatically, ready to protect her friend. “Don’t put her on the spot.” Roz hadn’t even wanted to come tonight, saying she wasn’t part of the family. But Caprice had convinced her she needed to get out, whether they had to confront reporters or not. They could always say “No comment” and go on their way.
Like any news story, though, Ted Winslow’s death had lost steam and public interest. Unless there was a break in the case and until someone was charged, there wouldn’t be much news coverage.
“Do you feel put on the spot?” Vince asked Roz in his smooth lawyer’s voice.
Caprice could have clunked him on the head. Roz would see through that fake charm in a minute.
“Yes, I do,” she admitted honestly, and his grin faded. But then she added, “I can tell you what I think, but I don’t want to impose my ideas on anybody here.”
Sitting beside Bella on the sofa, Joe nodded in agreement.
Bella still hadn’t told him about her pregnancy, and Caprice didn’t understand that at all. Holding this news close to her heart wasn’t going to settle anything.
“So what do you think?” Vince prompted. No fake smile this time.
“I think your mom would appreciate a party in her honor with all the frills and trimmings.” She glanced at the rest of the family, and then her focus went back to Vince. “You have to realize where I’m coming from. I lost my mom. So anything you can do to show yours that you appreciate her is monumentally important. I don’t think you should pass up the opportunity.”
Everyone in the room went quiet. Bella’s children were asleep. The evening breeze blew in the front windows, rattling a blind. Each of them were taking in what Roz said, maybe realizing for the first time what it would mean if they were to lose their mother.
Nikki, on the carpet beside Caprice, broke the silence. “That decides it. We should bring Roz to all
of our family meetings.”
“Exactly what does it decide?” Joe asked with a frown. “Sure, you want to have a party. But just how elaborate are you gonna get? We can only stretch our budget so far.”
“Joe!” Bella looked humiliated he’d said such a thing.
“I’m just being honest. Vince, Caprice, and Nikki—they have their own businesses. They’re pulling in good money. We’ve got a family. On the other hand, I don’t want to shortchange your mom, either. We’ll chip in our fair share. Just putting it all out there on the table. We sure can’t afford to rent a ballroom somewhere.”
As much as Joe irked her sometimes, Caprice realized he had his pride. “My mom wouldn’t want us to go overboard. Nikki and I talked a little bit about this.”
“Well, of course you did,” Bella murmured. “You always talk to Nikki.”
Caprice felt shocked and a little hurt. She wanted to shoot back—Maybe that’s because Nikki can keep secrets and you can’t. But she didn’t. If Bella was pregnant, her hormones could already be in an uproar, which would account for that little outburst. On the other hand, maybe it’s what she’d been thinking for years.
Vince and Joe looked uncomfortable, like guys who didn’t want to be involved in a sisterly crisis. What else was new?
“We didn’t want to go ahead with anything,” Caprice explained calmly, “until we all decided what we wanted to do. Isaac found a place that sells Fostoria crystal, including some of the dishes Mom has wanted. So we can all go together for that. Once that’s split up, it should fit into your budget,” she said to Joe. “As soon as Isaac tells me the price, I’ll call you and we’ll figure it out. Okay?”
Joe gave a shrug as if that was suitable.
“But as far as the party itself, we considered the church’s social hall but thought my backyard would be even better. Mom’s birthday falls on Memorial Day this year, and the weather should be okay. So I can provide my place for the party and get a great deal on canopies. I won’t even have to pay for setup if we have our own manpower.” She gave a direct look at Vince and Joe.
“No problem there,” Vince said.
Staged to Death (A Caprice De Luca Mystery) Page 18