“Go ahead,” Sara said. “If you’d like to wander into the kitchen to do it, that’s fine.”
Her dad stood and went into the kitchen, Blitz following close at his heels.
“They make a good match,” Sara said with certainty. “How do you think your mom will feel about it?”
“She’s an animal lover, but it’s hard to say. As you know, having a dog is like having a child to take care of. Any pet you love is like that, really. With her teaching position, she wouldn’t be involved in Blitz’s care as much as Dad would.”
“I know,” Sara nodded. “Chris hated to leave Blitz alone. He was with Chris, you know, when he was killed.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Well, he wasn’t exactly with him. Blitz was closed up in the Santa cabin. Chris had left him in there when he’d gone outside apparently to meet whoever it was. I can’t imagine why he did that. It’s not as if Blitz would have run off somewhere. It’s not as if Blitz wouldn’t have protected him. It just seemed to be a very odd thing to do.”
That did seem odd, Caprice thought. For some reason, Chris hadn’t wanted Blitz to interfere. Or else had he wanted to protect Blitz? Pretend the dog wasn’t along with him?
Her father had returned to the living room, and he gave Sara a small smile. “Fran’s not at all sure about us having a dog, but she’s seen how Caprice handles and copes with having Lady and the same with Grant and Patches. My work schedule has eased up, and I’m not in the field as much as I’m in the office now. I reminded her of that, and the fact that Chris took Blitz to work. I really can’t see why I can’t do the same.”
“So you’ll take him?”
“I will. We’ll love him and see he gets the best care possible. I even have a brother who’s a pet sitter. So when I get in a pinch, I can call on him.”
“Not to mention me, Grant, Nikki, and Vince,” Caprice added. “You’ve seen how I juggle. It can be done.”
Sara stood and brushed a wrinkle from her black skirt. “Thank your lovely wife for me. Tell her I’ll call her when I get a few minutes . . . when I feel like myself again.”
“I will tell her. And you take your time. Your grief will go on long past this murder investigation. The investigation could make your grief stop and start as you have to concentrate on other things. Just know that eventually you’ll get through it.”
“To the acceptance stage?” Sara asked, almost sarcastically.
“It seems impossible now, doesn’t it?” Caprice asked. “And I don’t think we can ever accept losing somebody we love. But maybe we can be at peace with it.”
After Sara thought about that, she asked, “You know Father Gregory, don’t you, Caprice? I’m going to ask him to handle the service and the Mass.”
Father Gregory was a good guy. He’d helped Bella and Joe put their marriage back on track. He was also her and Grant’s advocate for their annulment. He was trying to smooth the waters for them. They’d had many conversations with him about that . . . and marriage.
“Chris didn’t go to church,” Sara admitted. “But he’d talked with Father Gregory about his PTSD several times. I don’t think he told him what happened over there. I don’t think he told anyone. But whatever Father Gregory advised him helped Chris sleep easier at night.”
Caprice knew Sara meant what happened in Vietnam. She was glad to hear that Chris had talked to Father Gregory about some of it.
“Tell me something, Sara,” her father suggested. “Do you think you’d like Blitz to come visit at any time? Not now but maybe in a month or two, or when you miss him.”
“That’s possible. It’s also possible I’ll miss him when I’m here all alone at night and the boards creak and I get scared. But I have to learn to deal with it on my own. Still, if I get freaked out, it might be nice to have him here now and then.”
“All right. Then I’m going to suggest that you keep Blitz’s bed that was upstairs next to yours. Keep his water and food bowl. We have extra bowls that we use when Lady and Patches visit. We also have an extra bed, but I think Blitz might need a bigger one. I’ll take care of buying him that for our house. Then he can go back and forth if you like. I’m not telling you I don’t want full custody, but I am telling you I think you’ll miss him and maybe need him near you now and then. And that’s okay with me.”
Sara stood and rushed forward to give Nick a hug. “You are the nicest man. Chris knew how to pick good friends.”
“I hope I was as good a friend to him as he was to me. Chris was there when Vince and I would butt heads, especially when Vince was a teenager. Somehow Chris made me see reason, and I could stay more even tempered and deal with whatever the problem was. And with my girls, the best advice he gave was Let your wife handle them.”
Sara actually laughed. “That’s what he did here. He handled Ryan. He let me handle Deanne and Maura. We were all so off-kilter after the questioning that we didn’t rally as we should have. Tomorrow we’ll talk again. Then we can make the decision as a family about calling Vince and Grant.”
“That’s probably a good idea,” Nick said. “Is there anything else we can help you with? Do you want to keep the house up for sale?”
“I do. We’ll see if we get any offers. Chris and I had decided on a condo we liked. It really doesn’t make sense for me to ramble around in this big house. I’ll let Denise know as soon as I make a clear decision.”
Her father gave Caprice a nod.
She stood and said, “We’d better go. You need to get some rest. We’ll see if Perky Paws is still open and pick up the supplies we need on the way home.”
“Is Blitz a good car rider?” her dad asked.
“He’s the best,” Sara answered. “He likes to watch out the window. But on long trips he just curls on the seat and falls asleep. Chris would always stuff pillows around him instead of using one of those halter seatbelts. But that will be up to you.”
After hugs all around, Sara fetched Blitz’s leash and her dad attached it. Then they went to the car with Blitz easily heeling by her dad’s side.
At the car, Blitz stood by the backseat door and waited for her dad to open it. Then he jumped in up on the seat and stared at them through the window after her father closed the door.
“Mom’s really okay with this?”
“As okay as she can be with something new. Give us a night or a day or two and I’ll let you know.”
After they’d gotten into her dad’s car, Caprice buckled up. “Sara told me that Blitz was with Chris the night he was killed. The police think Chris locked Blitz in the cabin while he went out to meet whoever it was at the sleigh. But that doesn’t make sense. Blitz is friendly. I’ve never even heard him growl. So why wouldn’t Chris take him with him?”
“Unless he didn’t want the distraction,” her dad suggested.
“Possibly. Or possibly Blitz knew the person and liked him too much.”
“Or Blitz didn’t like the person and could be a threat.”
“Just because he was closed in the Santa cabin doesn’t mean he was there the whole time. He could have been with Chris and seen the man who murdered him.”
Now that was something to think about. She wondered if the police were thinking about it too.
* * *
The following morning, Caprice drove her Camaro into the flow of traffic on White Rose Way. Since the holiday parade, the downtown area of Kismet was busier. Tourists came to flit in and out of the stores, have lunch at the Blue Moon Grille, and maybe stop at a Christmas tree farm between Kismet and York. Downtown Kismet had charm that was rooted in its early 1900s heritage. Most of the buildings, built with red brick, were accented by white trim around the windows and under the eaves. Many of the shops displayed oval signs hung on wrought-iron brackets. Caprice passed the old school building, where Vince lived, that had been renovated into condos. He’d soon be moving.
She smiled when she saw the wreaths hung on the lamp posts on both sides of the street. Stores like The Na
il Yard, a manicure center in Kismet, had decorated their plate glass windows with red and green holly garlands and twinkle lights. She thought about stopping at Secrets of the Past but everything that had happened weighed on her. And she couldn’t think about holiday fashion, even in a retro style, today.
Driving by Vince and Grant’s office, she parked across the street from Novel Ideas, the downtown bookstore. Kiki Hasselhoff who owned the store had become a friend recently. She was in her sixties and a member of the Kismet Chamber of Commerce.
After Caprice tucked her Camaro into a parking space, she fed the meter and dashed across the street to Kiki’s store. The day was pleasantly cold in the forties, but she knew the weather could turn on a dime and the Pennsylvania winter could begin.
A few shoppers were scattered between the displays of books and holiday gift ideas. She had a DVD about enhancing owner and dog relationships that she could lend her dad, but she wanted to pick up a book too. It would give him something to focus on other than Chris and his family.
Caprice spotted Kiki near one of the back shelves with an e-tablet in hand. She was possibly checking inventory. Caprice waved and headed to that section. Kiki had placed the dog and cat and other animal books next to the self-help section.
“How are you?” Kiki asked.
“I’m okay. Sad for Chris Merriweather’s family.”
“That’s so terrible. I couldn’t believe it when I heard. Are you involved in the investigation?”
“No, but I was staging their house. Sara asked Dad to take Blitz, Chris’s dog. So, I’m looking for a book on dog handling for him—something beyond commands because Blitz already has a grasp of those.”
“I have just what you need. Let me show you.” Kiki went to a shelf where books on dog handling were displayed. She plucked one off the shelf and handed it to Caprice. “I guess your dad is old school and likes to hold a book in his hand?”
“And turn down pages and highlight,” Caprice responded with a small smile.
“That’s the sign of a true reader,” Kiki said. She looked thoughtful. “You know, there’s been a lot of talk about Chris Merriweather this morning.”
“You mean the murder?”
“Not just the murder.”
“I don’t understand.”
“There’s scuttlebutt about the historic houses on Restoration Row near your friend Roz Winslow’s dress shop.”
Caprice had heard there were a few houses for sale there, and that a developer was interested.
“What are the rumors?”
“That developer, Bailey Adler, wants to buy those houses and tear them down to build new store fronts.”
“But those are historic houses. And they have renters in them, don’t they?”
“Yes, they do. But now that Chris Merriweather is dead, the rezoning will probably go through in the developer’s favor. Chris was against the project and very vocal about it. But the mayor has named a new town council member who everyone knows is for the project.”
Caprice had been so busy with work, family, and pets that she hadn’t kept up with that bit of news. She’d missed the last Chamber of Commerce meeting. Could this project and Chris’s negative vote have something to do with his death?
Chapter Six
Since Caprice and Grant were spending the evening together, they decided to take their dogs to the dog park to let them romp and play. The night was crisply cold and they could see the twinkle lights on Santa Lane in the distance.
As they sat on a bench and watched Patches and Lady chase each other around, Grant draped his arm around Caprice. “Are you cold?”
“No.” Actually she was plenty warm in a teal-colored faux fur midi-coat that even had a hood. Still she said, “But I like your arm around me.”
Grant leaned in to kiss her and then pulled away. “Something tells me your mind isn’t on Patches and Lady having fun in the dog park.”
“It isn’t. I stopped at the bookstore today to get a book for Dad on bonding with a dog, and Kiki Hasselhoff told me something that troubled me.”
“What was that?”
Caprice related what she’d learned about the rezoning vote, and that now, since Chris wasn’t on the board, the vote would go in a developer’s favor.
Grant shook his head, his frown cutting deep. “When you mention developer and real estate in the same sentence, you could be talking big bucks. You could be talking a motive for murder. The question is—whose motive? The developer’s? The mayor’s? The town council replacement member?”
“There are always logical suspects at the beginning of a murder investigation, but this one doesn’t seem to be easing in any one direction. I mean, Chris’s neighbor even had a grudge against him.” She quickly told Grant about Boyd Arkoff’s appearance at the Merriweather house.
“Who would have thought Chris would have that many enemies?”
She gazed over at the twinkle lights on Santa Lane.
Grant must have caught her looking and, seeing the concentration on her face, he said, “I heard there’s a replacement Santa at the cabin. Christmas must go on. I don’t suppose you’d like to wander over there?”
“When was the crime scene released?”
“Yesterday morning. Come on. The dogs will like the brisk walk, and you and I won’t mind the frost in the air.”
Grant held Caprice’s hand as they walked, and she appreciated the feel of his hand in hers. During the years she hadn’t dated, she didn’t think she’d missed being part of a couple. Maybe it felt so right now because she and Grant were the right couple.
As they strolled up Santa Lane and heard instrumental Christmas music playing from the loud speaker on the cabin, Caprice wondered how soon it would be until everyone in Kismet forgot someone had been murdered there.
They passed the sleigh with its presents wrapped in weatherproof gold paper and vinyl red ribbons. A row of sleigh bells on a leather strap hung on the left- and right-front corners. She had a set of sleigh bells similar to those attached to the cute cat and dog wreath decoration on her front door.
Caprice couldn’t help but want to get a good look at the sleigh. She nudged Grant and they circled it. After they did, she noticed that one of the candy canes stakes was missing in the line leading up to the cabin.
Had that really been the murder weapon?
A man and a boy who looked to be about four exited the cabin. They were both smiling and the child carried a candy cane and an orange.
Caprice said to Grant, “I remember Nikki and I getting a candy cane and an orange after we told Santa what we wanted.”
“Bella and Vince weren’t with you?”
“Bella had wanted her own visit all by herself so Santa wouldn’t get mixed up with who wanted what.”
Grant laughed. “That’s Bella.”
“And Vince said he was too old to talk to Santa, though I think he slipped Dad a letter to push into the box.”
“Why don’t I stay out here with the dogs while you go in and talk to Santa? You can look around to see if anything has changed or is missing. The police might not have known what was there before and what wasn’t. You helped decorate the cabin so you would.”
Without hesitating, she handed Grant Lady’s leash. “If you wander down the lane with them, I’ll text you when I’m finished.”
Grant nodded, and she stepped inside.
When Caprice had helped decorate the cabin, she’d used the same homey touches that she’d added to the Merriweathers’ home—pine boughs in a vase with Christmas balls, flameless candles, Chris’s toys here and there. A wooden box painted with a snowman scene sat beside Santa. The large slit in the top would accommodate any size letter. There was also a mail slot in the door to the cabin so anybody passing by when it wasn’t open could drop letters in there too. The man seated in what looked like a large dining room chair wasn’t as tall as Chris. He was stouter with twinkling brown eyes instead of blue ones. The Santa outfit looked a little big on him and she wonde
red if it was Chris’s. His fake beard fit him well, and Caprice decided it could possibly withstand a tug by a toddler.
“Hello, there,” he said genially. “Can I help you?”
She decided to be honest. “I just wondered who took Chris Merriweather’s place.”
The man nodded and then extended his hand. “I’m Neal Gladfelter, and you’re . . .”
She shook his hand then explained, “I’m Caprice De Luca. Chris’s family and my family are friends. He was also my client. I was staging his house to sell.”
Now the man eyed her more carefully. “Caprice De Luca. Your name has been in the paper a couple of times. You rescue strays and try to find them homes.”
“I do.”
“But you’ve also helped the Kismet PD solve a couple of murders.”
“I like to think I was of some help.”
“Are you going to solve Chris’s?”
“No. I mean . . . I don’t know. I’m sure the police are already on it.”
“I’m sure they are too. But did you come here looking for clues?”
As she glanced around the cabin, she couldn’t see anything out of order or anything that was missing. “I helped Chris set up the cabin this year. Since it’s so near the murder scene, I wondered if it was involved. But nothing seems to be amiss.”
“It was like this when I came in. There are those scratches on the door.”
Caprice whirled around to study the inside of the door. There were scratches there, scratches as if Blitz had been trying to get out. To help his master? She turned back to Neal Gladfelter. “What do you do when you’re not playing Santa?”
“I’m an accountant,” he told her with a wry smile. “I also know the mayor. When he said they might have trouble finding a replacement Santa, I volunteered. I’m going to try to do more than just listen to wishes.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’m in a good place financially. When I give to a charity, I like to see what good my dollars do. If a child comes in with a wish list and the family can’t possibly afford what he or she wants, maybe I can make it happen. A little boy came in earlier who desperately wants a jungle gym for his backyard. His parents don’t have the funds and everyone is sad. But before they left, I told them I might know someone who would donate a jungle gym. They had to be talked into it because of pride, but they were grateful. From what I understand, Chris used to do the same kind of thing. He twisted an arm or two to make gifts happen for these kids.”
Slay Bells Ring Page 7