“I think they’ve talked about the sale plenty, but she’s just not sold on the idea.”
“At the game, he talked about it as if it’s a done deal. He thinks your staging is going to sell the house fast even before Christmas.”
“It’s a beautiful historic house. Just the carriage house on the grounds out back adds a lot of charm.”
“Even in the winter?”
“Even in the winter. They have beautiful Norwegian pines and blue spruce. The brick patio almost looks like cobblestone and the path that leads to the carriage house is quaint. I can’t imagine Chris without his workshop, and I don’t think Sara can either.”
“He can take his tools and supplies anywhere.”
Caprice protested, “But the carriage house has charm, the outside of it with those huge double doors . . .”
“It’s just a building, honey.”
“But it’s a building where he’s made Christmas toys for years. I can’t imagine there isn’t sentiment attached to that. Memories are attaching Sara to the house. She remembers her kids when they were four and six and eight and ten . . . when they were teenagers bringing friends home. That house was, is, a real home. It’s hard to leave something like that. I can’t imagine you and Mom being any place but where you are.”
“Even though we’ve made constant repairs for over thirty years?”
“Even though. I don’t think you would have had it any other way. You’ve put yourself into that house, from patching plaster on the ceiling to building the brick fireplace outside.”
“And that’s the way it should be. Have you and Grant talked about where you’re going to live once you’re married?”
“That’s one of the discussions we still have to have. I think we’re both afraid to move too fast because we don’t know when the annulment will come through. So, we’re just enjoying our engagement, not stressing out about anything.”
Her father hung his arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “That sounds like the best plan. I’d better get over there before they decide something I don’t approve of.”
“I’m going to leave, Dad. I have to pick up Lady, and Grant is probably waiting at my place. In spite of work and other commitments, we always intend to make time for each other. I’ve seen you and Mom do it and know we can too.”
“Tell Grant I said hello. How about if you meet me at Chris’s workshop tomorrow morning around nine. If anything changes, I’ll give you a call.”
“Sounds good.”
But as her focus again drifted to Chris where he was standing at a table speaking with Vince, she studied that bruise on his jaw. It was red and purple, not yellow or green like an older bruise. So it was possible a box had just tumbled onto him. Wasn’t it?
* * *
The following morning, Caprice parked her restored yellow Camaro at the curb in front of the Merriweather house. She’d spotted her dad’s truck in the driveway that led to the garage, and she didn’t want to block him in. She realized the Merriweathers weren’t at home. Both Sara and Chris would be at the store, ready for opening at nine o’clock on Monday morning.
Going around her car, Caprice opened the passenger door. Lady sat on the seat, studying her, her golden buff coat gleaming in the sunshine.
“I know you like this better than traveling in your cage in my van. But the cage really is safer.”
Lady tilted her head and gave Caprice a look that said she knew that.
Caprice took Lady’s fuchsia leash from the floor and attached it to her collar. “Come on, we’ll see what Dad’s up to in the workshop.”
Lady happily jumped out of the car without any encouragement and trotted beside Caprice up the driveway that led to the garage beside the carriage house. The brick path and the patio added even more charm to the house. Caprice knew at night the twinkle lights on the evergreens almost made one want to sit out there even in the winter time. And she supposed they could, with the fire pit there.
Fire pits conjured up good memories for her. She and Grant had celebrated their engagement at the fire pit in Ace Richland’s backyard. Ace was a rock legend they’d both come to know quite well. The night Grant had proposed, he’d commandeered Ace’s estate. Caprice could still remember every minute of that evening vividly, and she never wanted to forget it.
She could hear the buzz of a saw as she stepped up to the carriage house door. Lady stopped and sat as if she wasn’t sure they should go in. Lady was a lower pack dog, which meant she liked to please her mistress. But she had good instincts too, and the sound of a strange machine was enough to make her hesitate.
The buzzing suddenly stopped, and Caprice took advantage of that moment to open the door. When Lady spotted Caprice’s dad, she eagerly went forward with Caprice and practically ran to him, even though he did look a bit strange in the goggles and woodcutting apron.
Immediately her dad pushed the goggles to the top of his head and hunkered down to give Lady a good ruffle around the ears. “How are you doing, girl?”
Lady barked as if to say Just fine this morning, thank you.
Her dad laughed then rose to his feet. “Chris got me started this morning before he left for the shop. I drove the plywood over in the company truck.” Easily Caprice could see her dad had used the jigsaw to cut out two-dimensional fir trees.
“It looks as if you made progress. Bella will be pleased we have something to paint.”
“I still have to attach the supports to the back so they stand up, but they should work wherever she wants to put them. After I’m finished with them, I’ll take the circular saw to the community center. Chris said he’s going to try to break free of work for a couple of hours this afternoon to cut out the stable for us.”
“Does he really have time for that?”
Her father shrugged. “He said he’ll make time. Apparently, he hired more help at the store this season, so neither he nor Sara would be overburdened. She wanted to take his toys to a couple of craft shows and sell them, simply because they’re good for kids. He didn’t want her to feel she should be two places at once. He knows she likes to be out and about in the community.”
“You can’t own a business like they do and not know practically everyone in a town the size of Kismet. Mom was talking about taking one of Sara’s scrapbooking workshops and pulling boxes out of the attic so she could put all our childhood mementoes in order.”
“According to Chris, scrapbooking has gained speed over the last five years, from die-cut adornments, to special papers, to making pop-up cards.”
“Chris talks about this kind of thing?”
“After a few beers at the poker game. We ran out of sports scores.”
This time Caprice laughed and let her gaze travel around the workshop. Her focus fell on a rocking horse that a three- or four-year-old might like to ride. It sported a string mane and a long string tail. The horse itself reminded her of a palomino, but the saddle was painted red. She went over to it and ran her hand over the workmanship. It was as smooth as silk and absolutely beautiful.
She saw a sled with the name Jimmy painted on it. “I guess Chris customizes some of his pieces.”
“He does. He takes orders all year.”
“I can’t believe Thanksgiving is coming up on Thursday.”
“Nana already started her preparations, and your mom bought her every grocery she’d probably need.”
“How many are coming?”
“Too many to count,” her dad said wryly. “Besides all of us, your mom asked Mack and his wife, and from what I hear, Nikki will be bringing Brett. Roz and Vince are coming as well as Dom and Dulcina. Do you think they’re serious?”
Caprice’s Uncle Dom had fallen on hard times and lived with her parents for a while. But now he’d opened his own pet sitting business and had started dating her neighbor Dulcina Mendez.
“They have kittens in common,” Caprice said with a smile. Dulcina had taken in a stray cat Caprice and her uncle had captured, and that cat
had been pregnant. Halo had had her kittens, and Dulcina had kept the firstborn, a dark tortoiseshell named Miss Paddington. Dom had taken the other two kittens, Tia and Mason, and they lived with him at his apartment.
“I guess animals can create common bonds. Look at you and Grant.”
Yes, look at her and Grant. She’d taken in a pregnant cocker spaniel and kept one of the pups. Grant had taken another one and named him Patches.
“I haven’t had a chance to talk to Roz for a while,” Caprice said.
Her father frowned. “I think Vince is getting perturbed because Roz hasn’t agreed to live with him.”
“She has to be sure it’s the right decision.”
“You don’t think it’s just a matter of space, that both their places are too small?”
“That could be. Vince has been looking at houses, but I don’t think they’ve found the right one.”
“Are you still serving dinner on Thanksgiving Day at Everybody’s Kitchen with Nikki, Bella, and Joe?” her dad asked.
“We hope to. I guess Megan, Timmy, and Ben will be staying with you?”
“We’ll juggle the kids during all the prep. I’m sure it will be another Thanksgiving we can never forget.”
Whenever the De Lucas got together, there were always unforgettable moments.
“If you have everything under control here, I have to scoot. I have a few video consultations this morning and orders to put in. Juan’s coming over to discuss contracts for a new house staging.” Juan Hidalgo was her assistant and she depended on him.
“I have everything under control here, I suppose.”
The way her dad said it, Caprice wondered if he meant it. “What’s wrong?”
“Chris still seemed out of sorts this morning. That cut on his forehead looked pretty sore, and his jaw didn’t look any better. But he still insisted he’d just had a box fall on him at the store. He still wouldn’t look at me when he said it, though, and that’s not like him. I might ask Mack to tactfully have a conversation with him—not about his injuries, per se, but just to see if anything else is going on in his life. He’s not his usual jolly self this time of year. There’s got to be a reason for that.”
Could her dad’s friend use his detective skills to ferret out the truth?
That all depended on how much Chris Merriweather was willing to reveal.
* * *
Thanksgiving Day dawned crisp and full of sunshine. Caprice had baked a few loaves of bread the evening before. That morning she’d whipped up the filling for Nana’s cannoli shells after she’d fed her pets and taken Lady out for a run. Now all she had to do was drop off Lady and the food at her parents’ house and get herself to the soup kitchen in time to help finish cooking dinner and serve.
When she reached her parents’ house, she found out Bella had already dropped off her sweet potato casserole, and Nikki had created antipasto platters. Her dad and Nana would be helping her mom with the turkey so all would be ready whenever everyone arrived in the evening.
Fifteen minutes later, Caprice parked her Camaro in the lot of Everybody’s Kitchen and recognized Bella’s red van and Nikki’s cobalt blue sedan. They’d beaten her there. She’d dressed in a retro look today with a modern twist, wearing a houndstooth mini-dress with red trim over black leggings. Her red Mary Janes would make standing at the soup kitchen for a few hours comfortable yet add a bit of pizzazz. She’d topped her dress with a vintage baby-doll trench coat in gray, embossed with a black flower motif. It all worked together, and even Bella, who didn’t appreciate Caprice’s vintage style, shouldn’t have anything disagreeable to say about it. After all, fashion history was fashion forward now. She’d been dressing in retro for years, but now it was suddenly the style.
As she walked through the dining area of Everybody’s Kitchen, she noticed the volunteers had spread the tables with white paper cloths in honor of the holiday. There was even a bright, autumnal flower arrangement on a table near the coatrack: spider mums along with yellow and cranberry daisy-looking mums filled the green ceramic vase. There would be an abundance of food here today from the donations. The food pantry side of Everybody’s Kitchen had been delivering baskets all week, and Caprice hoped no one in Kismet would go hungry today . . . or on Christmas. For that holiday, angel gifts for children would be included in the baskets.
Joe gave Caprice a hug when he saw her. “Just in time to pull the turkeys out of the oven.” He looked her over. “You’d better get rid of the coat and put an apron on, though.”
“Will do.”
Nikki and Bella were pouring cooked potatoes into a huge bowl for mashing with the electric beater. They stopped to give her a hug too, and she said hello to the other volunteers.
“What can I do?” she asked.
“Ask Mario,” Nikki said, waving to Mario Ruiz who was cutting sheet cakes into squares.
“Hi, Caprice,” he said with a smile.
She had come to know Mario in the summer when he’d made her suspect list for one of the murder investigations she’d become involved in. But he’d had nothing to do with it, even though he’d had motive. Now he was the managing director of Everybody’s Kitchen. It was a paid position, and he seemed to enjoy doing it. A chef, he tried to make the meals more than edible. A good manager, he made sure the pantry ran smoothly.
He’d obviously heard what Caprice had asked. He motioned to Joe and another man who was helping him remove a huge turkey from the oven. “They’re going to start carving. Can you put the fruit salad together? Begin with that gallon can of peaches and then add the fruit that’s cut up in the refrigerator. Can you believe someone actually donated pineapple and melons? We’re going to serve a good dinner here today, Caprice.”
“You try to do that every day.”
He gave her a wry grin. “I’m glad somebody notices.”
“Everybody who eats here notices, Mario. You’re doing a good thing.”
Because of Mario’s managerial skills, all of the volunteers seemed to know exactly what they had to do and were efficient about doing it. Most of them had been coming here for a long while. Her Nana volunteered one day a month, and so did her mom when she was off school for the summer. There was a schedule and everyone adhered to it. This was an important part of community service.
By the time Caprice finished stirring together the fruit salad and dumping it into a huge serving tray in the cafeteria-style lineup, she was surprised when a familiar voice at her shoulder asked, “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
She spun around to find her brother. “Vince! What are you doing here?”
“I thought you might need an extra hand or two for cleanup. But I need to ask you something first, before they open the door to the public. Can we talk?”
There was a seriousness to Vince’s voice as well as in his dark brown eyes, so she said, “Sure.” She motioned him to the back door. “Let’s just step outside.”
The kitchen was noisy and it would be hard to hear each other over the chatter and clanking.
Vince followed her lead, and they opened the back door and stepped outside. They were on a landing dock that ran from the kitchen over to the pantry side. Trucks unloaded donations there, but now the back lot was empty.
Caprice wrapped her arms around herself against the outside chill. “Is something wrong?”
Vince was wearing a sweater but no coat. His dark brown hair blew in the breeze. He looked at her in her long-sleeved dress and asked, “Are you going to be too cold?”
“I’ll be fine for a few minutes. What’s up?”
“I didn’t want to discuss this at Mom’s later because I didn’t want Roz to overhear.”
Caprice waited for her brother to go on.
“Will you go with me to look at a house tomorrow?”
Caprice studied her brother. “Why aren’t you taking Roz?” Her straight dark hair blew against her cheek in the breeze.
“For several reasons. First off, I want your objective opinion. I think
I want to buy this one. I went back to it twice, and I think it fits the bill. It’s in your neighborhood. It’s a split-level, stone on the bottom, blue siding on top.”
“I know the one you mean. It’s been for sale about six months.”
“They just lowered the price. It has plenty of charm, from a stone fireplace to a family room to a renovated kitchen with quartz countertops.”
“Then why aren’t you taking Roz to see it?” she asked again.
“Because I want to buy it myself. I don’t want Roz to put any money into it in case our relationship doesn’t work out.”
Caprice’s brother was a lawyer, and he often thought in practical terms. She knew exactly what he was thinking. If he and Roz comingled their funds to buy the house and then their relationship didn’t work, it would be a mess. On the other hand, though, not as much of a commitment was involved with his way of doing it. He’d been thinking about buying a house for a while and just hadn’t made the move.
“You know I can’t give you much input on structural soundness, just on design.”
“I want your woman’s opinion. I’ll have one of Dad’s contractor friends inspect it if I decide to put in an offer. I’m mostly worried that it’s not bigger.”
“Doesn’t it have four bedrooms and a room that can be used as an office on the middle level?” She often went over real estate stats and had seen photos and video taken of the house on the sale site.
“It does. But Roz is rich. Would she want to live there? That’s why I need your opinion. Also about how much work it might take to transform it into her taste.”
“You’re buying it but you want her taste.”
“Of course, I do. I’m going to ask her to move in with me. We’ve been discussing it since summer, and I think she’s close to a decision.”
“As far as Roz being rich, yes, she is, and she likes nice things. But . . . she’s living in a two-bedroom townhouse now and, if I remember correctly, that house has a nice-sized backyard that Dylan can run and play in.” Roz’s dog, Dylan, a fluff ball who was part Pomeranian and part Shih Tzu, would love a yard of his own.
Slay Bells Ring Page 3