“Same here,” Joe agreed.
“I can call or e-mail everyone Mom would like to see there,” Bella offered.
Nikki pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. “That just leaves the food. I’ll be glad to cover that. And everybody can chip in whatever they want.”
“So you’ll treat it like a buffet?” Roz asked.
“That would probably be best. You have electrical outlets out back, don’t you, Caprice?”
“Two of them. We can even string lights.”
“I’m pretty good with flowers,” Roz said. “Let me cover the table decorations. I’m grateful Caprice has let me stay with her, and your family has been very kind. I want to contribute.”
“Mom loves roses. Dad sends her some on any occasion that’s important to her.”
“That’s good to know. I’ll keep that in mind for the tables.”
“What about the tables and chairs?” asked Joe.
That started another whole discussion about whether or not they should use picnic-style tables or cafeteria-style tables.
While the others were talking, Nikki nudged Caprice. Bumping shoulders was something they’d done since they were kids.
“What?” Caprice asked.
“I’ve been thinking about the murder, and the dagger you said was stolen.”
“You haven’t told anybody about that, have you?”
Nikki looked around at the gathering; nobody was paying any attention to them. “No, of course not. I understand the police wouldn’t want the news of what was stolen to get out. Did you ask Roz if there was anything special about that particular one?”
“Just that Ted bought it for her for her birthday and it was more valuable than some of the others.”
“Ted’s whole collection made me curious,” Nikki said. “So I was fishing around on the Internet. I discovered that some of the antique pieces have legends with them. You know, like Excalibur. With Excalibur, whoever pulled it out of the stone would be the next king. Maybe Ted’s dagger had a legend attached to it.”
“A legend,” Caprice murmured. “Do you think that could have something to do with the murder?”
“It could have something to do with why that particular dagger was stolen. I don’t know. I’m just guessing. But there’s history behind those pieces and that history could matter.”
“I’ll call Isaac tomorrow and ask him. Maybe it’s time Roz and I went back to the house and looked for the provenance on the piece. I’ll talk to her about it later.”
After they ironed out all the details of the party, Bella served iced tea and homemade cookies. Caprice noticed she didn’t drink the tea nor eat the cookies. Did she have all-day nausea instead of just morning sickness?
After they chatted a little longer, they thanked Bella and Joe and said good night. Caprice thought about taking Bella aside and asking her why she was keeping her secret, something she couldn’t usually do if her life depended on it. But she wasn’t sure what would happen if she did. Bella seemed on edge, and she didn’t want to push her over it. When Bella was ready, she’d do whatever she was going to do. Maybe in spite of what Bella had said, Joe would embrace the idea of a larger family. There was no way to know until she told him. Could she be afraid that the news of a baby coming would damage her marriage irrevocably?
Nikki drove off first. Vince walked Roz and Caprice to Caprice’s car. Caprice thought he was hovering just a bit with Roz, and that was unusual for Vince. He waited at the curb until they were safely inside the car with seat belts fastened before he went to his car.
“You have a wonderful family,” Roz said.
“Even when we squabble?”
“Sure. That’s what families do. But you all want the best for each other and it shows.”
Caprice slid her key into the ignition and started the car. But then she glanced at Roz. “How would you feel about going back into your house?”
Roz sighed. “I know I’ll have to do it sometime. Why?”
“Because I think we need to find the provenance on the dagger that was stolen.” She told Roz what Nikki had said.
“I can see your point. There’s only one problem.”
“What?”
“The provenance for that dagger is probably in Ted’s office safe. I don’t have the combination.”
Chapter Fifteen
“It’s empty. Just like you said it would probably be.” Roz crossed her arms over her chest, obviously uncomfortable with being in a house she’d once called a home.
Before they’d arrived this morning, Caprice should have realized the investigation would probably have taken the forensic team into this particular space in Ted’s office closet on the first floor.
There was still fingerprint dust everywhere, drawers standing open. The worst part—
Roz knew everything had been touched.
She’d called a service that specialized in the type of sanitation she needed for the sword room. They’d peered into every other room downstairs, except for that one, finally ending up in Ted’s office.
“Let’s go upstairs,” Roz murmured, obviously resigned to what she’d find there.
A few minutes later, they were entering the master suite. It was easy to see the bedroom had been rifled through. Roz wrinkled her nose, then seemed to lose all her self-control and courageous starch as she sank onto the bed. “I can’t stay here, let alone live here. I know that.”
Tears came to her eyes and she swiped them away. “Life as I know it is destroyed. The bed reminds me of—” She stopped again. “Both loving times as well as Ted’s infidelity. I’m going to pack clothes to take to your place and call in my cleaning service so the real estate agent can show the house again. Though now, it’s going to be even harder to sell.”
“Someone might want to buy an infamous house. You never know.” Caprice glanced around the room. “Do you want me to help you?”
Roz shook her head. “No, I’m okay. I think I want to be up here alone for a while.”
“I’ll look around downstairs again.”
Although Roz couldn’t stand to go into the sword room, Caprice wanted to. Did that make her morbid . . . or just a sleuth?
Downstairs once more, Caprice took her time, peering into each room again with a discriminating eye. When she migrated down the hall, she found herself holding her breath as she approached the sword room.
She prepared herself, then stepped inside . . . not knowing what she’d see or feel.
After a quick look around, she realized it was just a room with a sword collection. No unusual vibrations or woo-woo feelings. It was simply a room with no evidence of what had happened here.
However, she remembered. The sight of Ted dead on the floor with a dagger in his back was a picture that could haunt her for a long time . . . if not forever.
Stepping deeper into the room, Caprice studied the glass curio case that housed the smaller and in some cases more expensive collectibles. She crossed to it, questioning why the door had been hanging open that night. Because Ted had shown the killer something inside it? Because the dagger that had been stolen had questionable provenance? Because someone who’d bid on it wanted it so badly he or she would kill for it? But that would have had to have been someone Ted knew, wouldn’t it? Or had he gotten a call from another collector and let the person in?
Could Valerie have done this? Was she capable of stabbing the man she loved? Why would she have been with Ted in the sword room? Why would she have taken the dagger? Because it had been the one he’d bought for Roz? Could she have been jealous that Ted still had feelings for his wife?
Then there were Ted’s cohorts at work. Had one of them come over? Been chummy? Talked about Ted’s collection? Then killed him because of something Ted knew? Or killed him because he was going to do what would have been bad for the company? Maybe the murderer just stole a dagger, any dagger, to make it look like a robbery. Was Chad Thompson the culprit?
Caprice hadn’t forgotten abou
t Monty, either, and his argument with his employer.
Leaving the sword room, she went down the hall that led to Ted’s office and the back door. After she opened the door, she peered outside.
Monty had apparently been taking care of the place. The yard was mown and the bushes trimmed. Spirea and peonies bloomed in one of the rear gardens. But today Caprice wasn’t interested in the gardens. She spotted the break in the hedge that Monty had spoken of.
Going outside, she left the patio and crossed the grass to the hedge. Anyone could have pushed through there. Had the police found footprints or any evidence someone had been there? Had that break been there all along? Maybe Monty even used it. Yet the murderer fleeing out the back door and sliding through a break in the hedge made sense. Caprice just couldn’t figure out who that person had been.
She’d been thinking through all of it, absolutely everything, when she was playing with the kittens, taking Dylan for a walk, not sleeping at night. She had come to one conclusion. Lonnie needed to come forward and talk to Vince and Grant. Grant was Roz’s lawyer, so it might not be a good idea for him to advocate for Lonnie.
But Vince—Maybe he could convince her that she had to reveal what she knew. Maybe he could convince her that she could be a witness if she had to be.
Bits of what she’d seen and what she’d heard swirled around Caprice’s head. She whimsically believed if she could just snatch the right ones out of the air, then maybe she could put all the pieces together.
She’d returned inside the house ready to make a cup of tea for herself and Roz when she heard Roz bumping her suitcase down the stairs. It was a large suitcase.
“I’ve made some decisions,” Roz announced when she reached the first floor.
“What decisions?” Caprice asked.
“First of all, I’m going to drive my car back to your house, then stop hiding as if I’ve done something wrong. I have to build a new life and get around on my own.”
“You can find a condo or an apartment if you want. But I still don’t think you should live there alone. Not until this is solved.”
“It might take me a while to find a place. You can decorate for me,” Roz said with a small smile.
“I’ll be happy to, you know that.”
Roz rolled her suitcase to the door. “I also made another decision. I think I’m going to do what you suggested. I want to find space to open a boutique. I do have fashion sense and I can share it. The mall is fine for ordinary shopping, but most stores don’t have that personal touch anymore. I can give that to women in Kismet.”
“Yes, you can. I know you’ll be a great success at it.”
Roz threw her a wry look. “That’s a good friend talking.”
Caprice just smiled. Anything she said wouldn’t matter. Roz wouldn’t believe she could be a success until she was. Being Ted’s wife hadn’t led to independence and self-confidence. Maybe now those qualities would grow.
“Are you ready to leave?” Roz asked. “I really want to get out of here.”
But before they could move either down a hall to the garage or out the front door, the doorbell chimed.
“Did you tell anyone you’d be here?” Caprice asked Roz.
“No. Did you?”
Caprice shook her head and crossed to the peephole. “It’s Marianne Brisbane. My car’s in the driveway, so she knows we’re here. Do you want to not answer the door? Sneak out the back?”
“No point,” Roz answered with some resignation, letting go of her suitcase handle. “Let’s see what she wants.”
“You know what she wants.”
“I have to face this sometime, Caprice.” Roz put her hand on the doorknob and opened the door wide.
Marianne actually looked surprised. “I didn’t think you’d come to the door,” she said.
Roz didn’t let the reporter inside. “You’ll keep hounding me or Caprice until I see you face to face. So here I am. But I don’t have anything to say. So just go away!”
Marianne shook her head. “I’m not going away, and you know it. Even if you’re cleared of all suspicion and go back to a normal life, I’ll still want a story about what happened, how you felt, and what you’re doing. I can put together information I received from other sources. Or you can give it to me straight yourself.”
Caprice stepped in. “She can’t talk to you now. You should know that. There’s an ongoing investigation.”
“And anything she says can be used against her. I know. But can’t we just talk? Can’t you just show me where it happened?”
Both women exploded at once. “No!”
“But I’ve heard it’s all cleaned up. What’s the harm?”
“Pushy doesn’t begin to describe you,” Caprice muttered under her breath.
“Of course, I’m pushy. I’m a reporter. Now come on. Give me something. If you do, I promise I’ll let you alone, either until you’re charged or until the murderer is found. I already know you’re staying with Caprice. I could see you both in Caprice’s car when you pulled out of her driveway.”
“Have you been stalking me?” Caprice demanded.
“I’ve been parked down at the end of your street now and then waiting for the right time. Obviously today was the right time.” She spied Roz’s suitcase behind her. “Are you going somewhere? Flying off without permission?”
“No!” Roz erupted, now outraged herself. “I just needed some clothes.”
“While you’re staying at Caprice’s.”
Roz sighed, “Yes, while I’m staying with Caprice. But she doesn’t need more reporters parked down the street. So you don’t know that.”
“Then give me something I do know.”
After a glance at Caprice, Roz answered her. “I’m still selling the house. I don’t intend to ever live here again.”
“Are you moving away from Kismet?”
“No, in fact I have plans to open a business here.”
“What kind of business?”
“A fashion boutique. In the upcoming weeks I’ll be looking for a space and gathering some ideas. And that’s all I’m going to say.”
Marianne tried to see farther inside the house. “Are you sure you won’t let me come in? If I had known there was going to be a murder here, I would have toured it the day of the open house. I’ve seen the floor plans and the pictures of the rooms on the real estate site. If you let me see the sword room, I promise I’ll let you in on anything I find out about the investigation.”
Caprice exchanged a glance with Roz and had to admit it would be great to have a source.
“Won’t Grant tell us what he hears?” Roz asked her, obviously thinking the same thing.
“Possibly. But Grant doesn’t know everyone. And Marianne has her contacts.”
“I sure do!” The reporter bobbed her head vigorously.
“All right, two minutes,” Roz agreed. “That’s it. One look around and out.”
“Deal.” Marianne looked elated.
But she stuck to their deal. In those two minutes, her gaze seemed to record absolutely everything in the room.
Caprice wondered if, like Seth, she had a photographic memory.
Seth. Their date had seemed so long ago. This murder scene seemed so removed from her ordinary life. But was it really? Just what was her ordinary life? Dinners with her family . . . walking the dog . . . staging houses? But Roz was part of her ordinary life now too.
At the door Marianne said, “Thanks. I really mean it. I’ll call you if I hear anything. And if you want to spill your story, you do the same.” She handed her card to Roz. “I gave one of these to Caprice, but she might have thrown it away. You keep it. You never know. You might need it.”
After the reporter left, Caprice turned to Roz. “I hope that wasn’t a mistake.”
A shiver crept up Caprice’s spine that evening. She felt almost as paranoid as Lonnie had looked in her car at the shopping center. She couldn’t shake the feeling someone was watching her.
Af
ter she and Roz decided to make dinner later, she’d driven her van to the storage compartment in order to pick up a few pieces she’d stored there for a new client she’d taken on yesterday. Leo Heinz wanted to sell his high-end loft quickly. The best way Caprice knew to have a fast turnover was to turn it into a bachelor pad.
Leo and his wife already had lots of leather and chrome that would work, but Caprice wanted to add a few more luxurious elements to the rearranging she intended to do. She could find an alpaca rug at the rental company. But she had a few glass art pieces that would work perfectly, as well as a Quoizel lamp and a painting with broad geometrical shapes. The theme for the loft was, of course, Bachelor’s Night In. She was looking forward to working there this week. Bob Preston and his crew were tied up, so Monty would be painting the kitchen cabinets a subdued sage that would counterpoint the gleaming black appliances and gray granite counter.
After Caprice exited her van and shut the driver’s door, she opened the two back doors so she could carry the pieces directly into the van. Dusk was falling and everything around the rows of storage compartments was shadowy. She thought again about her and Roz’s encounter with the reporter that morning, still wondering if they’d done the right thing by letting Marianne inside the house. But Caprice usually was a good judge of character. She didn’t feel Marianne Brisbane was vindictive or simply out to make a splash. She wanted to know the details and the truth.
Just as they did.
If they’d made a mistake, so be it. They’d have to live with whatever came of it.
But ever since Marianne had told them she’d been sitting down at the end of her street, Caprice couldn’t shake off the prickly feeling she could be in danger, along with Roz and Lonnie. Had Grant’s warnings finally taken root?
Was she being watched now? Who would want to watch her? Who would care if she went to her storage compartment?
Night was rapidly falling, and only Roz knew she was here.
Suddenly Caprice heard the low hum of an engine. She couldn’t see beyond the storage compartment area to know if anyone had followed her in. To be realistic about the whole situation, she was asking questions about a murder, ruffling feathers at PA Pharm, secretly meeting Lonnie, and hiding Roz.
Staged to Death (A Caprice De Luca Mystery) Page 19