Shades of Wrath

by Karen Rose Smith

  He didn’t smile at Nikki, but the look he gave her said he was interested in her. Caprice could tell by the way Nikki looked back that she was attracted to him. Yep, if these two found time for each other, they’d be a couple. That’s if Brett’s career didn’t interfere.

  “So what happened?” he asked Caprice.

  “Nikki shouldn’t have called you. It wasn’t that serious.”

  “Anything can be serious in a murder investigation. If Nikki called, she had good reason. She said Wyatt threatened you.”

  Caprice told him about the conversation as well as she could remember it, with Nikki adding a phrase or two here and there.

  He looked from one of them to the other.

  “As I said before, this is a messy investigation. It’s a messy list of suspects. We’re on top of it . . . at least trying to be,” he admitted. “But when something like this happens, it poses another curveball, and I don’t like where it puts the two of you.”

  “He didn’t threaten me,” Nikki assured him, raising her hands as if she were completely innocent.

  “Maybe you have more common sense than your sister. Caprice, I’d advise you not to have any more contact with Darby. Forget about redecorating her living room.”

  “You want me to dump a client?”

  “I want you to dump the situation. I think you should consider getting a restraining order against Scott Wyatt.”

  “And just what good is that restraining order going to do me? If he decides he wants to come after me, the police can’t do anything until he hurts me, right? I know how this works, Brett.”

  He shook his head in frustration. “If you get a restraining order—a protective order—you’ve scored the first point. He knows we’re all on alert. He knows you mean business.”

  “With a man like him, it’s also going to fuel his anger.” She saw Brett was about to protest, so she added, “But I’ll talk it over with Grant. If he thinks I should get the protective order, then I will. I had to connect Darby with Sunrise for her own safety and well-being. You can’t tell me you wouldn’t have done the same thing.”

  “I’m a man with a gun. You’re a woman with a color chart.”

  “Don’t condescend to me.”

  Nikki stepped between the two of them. “Okay, you’ve made your major points. We did our civic duty and reported what happened.”

  Brett sighed and stuffed his little notebook inside his jacket pocket. He took a look around the house. “This one’s kind of nice. On a smaller scale, I could live here.”

  “Do you want me to let you know if I happen to see something on a smaller scale?” Caprice asked sweetly.

  “I can always take a look,” he responded, surprising her. “There comes a time in a man’s life when a bachelor pad is just a bachelor pad, and he wants to think about having more.” This time his gaze shifted to Nikki. Then he added, “But cops have a high divorce rate, and girlfriends don’t seem to last.”

  “Then maybe they’re not the right girlfriends,” Caprice suggested.

  Nikki’s face turned a little pink. “I’ll see you out,” she said to Brett.

  Caprice wondered if they’d have a little tête-à-tête on the porch . . . if they’d make arrangements to see each other soon. She hoped so. She’d rather think about that than discussing a restraining order with Grant.

  * * *

  The following morning Caprice had scheduled a meeting with Lizbeth at Sunrise Tomorrow. There were so many rooms in the Wyatt mansion to furnish and Caprice wanted to make sure Lizbeth was on board with the designs and the styles. She found face-to-face meetings accomplished a lot more than sending a client an e-mail with links and photos. They just didn’t read them, and Caprice didn’t want to come to the end of this project and have Lizbeth shake her head if the trim or the molding or a wing chair with a particular fabric didn’t meet her approval. Wendy had wanted to be included in every detail. Caprice had to figure out where Lizbeth stood on that matter.

  As she rang the buzzer at Sunrise, she thought about her conversation with Grant the night before. They both had decided it might be best to hold off on the restraining order. Grant agreed it wouldn’t do much good if Wyatt actually wanted to do her harm. On the other hand, if he made another threat, a little power play might not hurt.

  After they’d finished discussing Wyatt, Grant relayed the fact that he’d talked to Ace, and Ace wanted them both to come to his estate for dinner tonight. Since he was touring, she hadn’t seen the rock legend for a while, and it would be great to catch up. So she’d agreed to meet Grant there at seven.

  Rena opened the door to Sunrise and looked as made up and poised as ever. She motioned to Lizbeth’s office. “She’s waiting for you.” And in an aside, Rena said, “I don’t think she’s into this decorating stuff like Wendy was, so you’ll probably only have half of her attention.”

  “Half is good as long as she remembers she gave it to me,” Caprice said seriously. She wanted Lizbeth to remember everything they discussed.

  “She knows how to multitask,” Rena assured Caprice. “I don’t know how she does it, but she does.”

  The door to Lizbeth’s office was open and Caprice stepped inside. Lizbeth was searching through her file cabinet for something, or rather Wendy’s file cabinet. This had been Wendy’s office. But now Caprice saw that Wendy’s things had been removed. Lizbeth had added new art on the wall. It was a modern print by a famous contemporary artist. She’d also brought in a shelving unit from her office and hung the shelf on the wall that held a jar with seashells, a trinket box, and a framed photo of an older couple who Caprice assumed was Lizbeth’s parents.

  As usual, Lizbeth seemed a bit frazzled as she closed the file drawer, sorted through some papers on her desk, and came up with a legal pad. “I’m ready,” she said. “But I’ve got to tell you, I trust your taste. If Wendy hired you, she did, too, so we don’t have to check out everything together, do we?”

  “I know this seems inconsequential to the other work you do here,” Caprice assured her. “But the choices you make now for the mansion will be there for years to come. The women who have a group session in a counseling room, the women who take refuge in the bedrooms, the reception area that welcomes everyone when they walk in—all that matters. It sets an atmosphere, and I want to make sure that you know what that atmosphere is, and that you approve of it.”

  “All right,” Lizbeth agreed, sitting at her desk now. She ran her hand through her short hair. “Sometimes I don’t feel like I know what I’m doing. I dreamed of being director someday, but not like this. Wendy kept so much to herself that it’s hard for me to sort everything out.”

  “You mean about the women here?”

  “Not only that. For instance, I have no idea why Wendy suddenly decided to end Evelyn Miller’s contract.”

  “I overheard a conversation that led me to believe Evelyn wants to branch out with her own facility.”

  “That’s possibly true. But there’s nothing in Wendy’s notes to indicate that. When I asked Evelyn about it, all she would say is that she and Wendy decided to part ways after her contract is finished this month. She’ll be working at Green Tea full-time.”

  That was an interesting observation. Had Evelyn decided to leave on her own? Or had Wendy fired her? If so, why?

  “I have something else to tell you, too, before we get started on the house. It’s about Scott Wyatt,” Caprice explained.

  “I’m not supposed to have anything to do with him.”

  “That may be true, but you might not have much choice. He came to my open house yesterday, furious that I put Darby in touch with you and the counselor. I don’t know if he might try to warn you off too. I just want you to be prepared.”

  Lizbeth’s eyes misted a little. “I’m not prepared. As assistant director, yes, I handled crises, but mostly they came one at a time. Now as director, I have crises bumping into each other.”

  “Rena told me you’re good at multitasking.”
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  “I’m surprised she has anything good to say about me,” Lizbeth mumbled. But then right away, she jumped into something else before Caprice could comment. “I saw you talking to Wendy’s dad at the reception at Sebastian’s house.”

  “I did for a little while. Why?”

  “He was a huge help in relocating some of our clients. Did he say whether he intends to stay involved now that Wendy’s gone?”

  “He talked about her work as if he believed in it. Why don’t you set up a meeting with him?”

  “I will, but I don’t have time to drive to Delaware now, and I don’t know if he’d want to drive back so soon after the memorial service.”

  “You won’t know unless you call him. If he’s important to the work here, you have no choice.”

  “No, I guess I don’t,” she admitted. “Unless I find somebody else who helped out the way he did. But that’s not so easy. There was someone else Wendy used in New York City.”

  “For new ID packets?” Caprice guessed.

  “Her father told you?”

  “It’s not so difficult to figure out, but yes, he did.”

  Lizbeth nodded. “If I could just find that number. It’s not the kind of thing Wendy kept in her regular Rolodex.”

  “And Sebastian doesn’t know?”

  “No, he thinks she might have kept it with all that other information that we talked about before. I just wish she’d been more open . . . about everything.”

  “Maybe she didn’t feel she could keep confidences as well that way.”

  “That’s true. Still, I feel like I’m on a scavenger hunt every time I have to look for information. It isn’t just plain background or forms we have to keep on file.”

  “You’ll sort it out. I know you will.”

  Lizbeth wasn’t usually this rattled. She was overwhelmed by the position and new responsibilities. That was easy to understand.

  Lizbeth pointed to Caprice’s briefcase. “Come on, let’s talk about furniture, then maybe I can go back to everything else I need to do with a fresh eye.”

  Caprice just hoped Lizbeth could handle her new responsibilities at Sunrise Tomorrow. Because if she didn’t, or couldn’t, just what would the foundation do?

  * * *

  Caprice drove up to Ace’s estate and thought that something looked different. She wasn’t sure exactly what. A floodlight shone down on the tall iron security gates. She stopped before them, reached out of the car, and punched in the code. Ace changed it once a month but made sure his housekeeper always texted her the code. He’d needed her to get in on more than one occasion and he trusted her. She drove through the gates and up the long driveway.

  She’d figured out what was different at that point. When Ace was home, almost every light in the house blazed, whether he was upstairs or down, inside or out. That probably came from his being in the spotlight so much of the time. Tonight, however, only the first-floor lights were lit, and not even all of those. Odd, really. If she hadn’t parked beside Grant’s car and known he was here, she might hesitate to go up to the house. But Grant was here and so was Ace, and probably Ace’s housekeeper. So she didn’t hesitate to walk to the entrance.

  She expected Mrs. Wannamaker to open the door and show her into the den where Grant and Ace were probably having a before-dinner aperitif—a liqueur that Ace had chosen because it was imported and impressive.

  Again she was surprised when Grant opened the door.

  “Mrs. Wannamaker is on vacation?” she asked with a smile.

  “She does have the night off, at Ace’s and my request.”

  Caprice suddenly noticed that Grant was wearing a suit and a tie. It even had one of those classy tie pins on it. Who else might Ace have invited to require that kind of outfit for Grant to wear for dinner?

  Caprice herself had dressed up a bit, wanting to look good, not only for her own image, but for Grant too. She was wearing a turquoise V-neck long-sleeve loose dress that just went over her head with no fasteners or buttons or zippers. Since it was a sweater dress, even though it was loose, it clung here and there as she moved. She thought it would be something different from her usual Katharine Hepburn–style pants, her Audrey Hepburn–style dresses, her Stevie Nicks–style tops. After all, they were her favorite fashions, but as she’d determined, she wanted to look good for Grant and wear something a little different. Her shoes had closed toes and a closed back but were open on the sides with a heel not worth mentioning. She’d swung a fuchsia shawl around her shoulders hoping she’d be warm enough if they took a stroll around Ace’s pool or even sat out back to talk.

  Grant was wearing a smile as he studied her outfit. “You look gorgeous.”

  “You look pretty good yourself. I didn’t expect to see you in a suit.”

  For a moment, just a moment, Grant looked unsure. Then he revealed, “We have Ace’s place to ourselves tonight. No animals. No other people around. Just us.” He reached out and took her hand. “Follow me, will you?”

  She followed him, but she had lots of questions. “You mean Ace isn’t here?”

  “No, he thought he’d give us some privacy. I was looking for a nice place to have you alone to myself and he offered.”

  Caprice was even more puzzled when Grant picked up two blankets to carry outside. They went through the sliding glass doors from Ace’s dining room that led onto the patio and pool area. Then he guided her to the right, a newly renovated space that Ace had finished earlier in the spring. There was a fire pit with seating around it, tiki torches that weren’t lit by oil but rather by electricity. Tonight the fire pit was burning brightly under an almost-full moon. Suddenly Caprice realized there was more than a fire pit blazing. Twinkle lights decorated the trees and flameless candles circled the rim of the fire pit. The whole space looked so very . . . romantic.

  She turned to Grant, but he just put his finger on her lips.

  “You’ll understand shortly. Come here. I have something for you.” He took her to one of the most comfortable chairs and sat her down. Then from a nearby table, he presented her with a colorful bouquet of fall flowers.

  Caprice was absolutely speechless. And when Grant got down on one knee before her, produced a box from his pocket, and looked her in her eyes, her heart started thumping so loud the whole town could probably hear. Her mouth went completely dry. She couldn’t get a word out. In fact, she could hardly breathe.

  Grant opened the box and she’d never seen a ring more beautiful. A heart-shaped pink diamond was set in a band of alternating channel set pink sapphires and diamonds. It was gorgeous!

  “Oh, Grant.”

  But even more than the ring, she realized the sentiment behind it. She all at once realized what he intended to do.

  He began with, “I love you, Caprice. I want to build a life with you. I spoke with your dad last weekend because I wanted his blessing. He gave it. We’re going to have some complications to work through, but first, I just want to ask you the important question. Caprice De Luca, will you marry me?”

  Tears came to her eyes and she swiped them away quickly with one hand because she didn’t want anything marring her vision of Grant. There was no hesitation at all as she answered him quickly. “I love you too. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

  At that he rose to his feet again, pulled her up with him, and slipped the ring onto her finger. It fit perfectly. Taking her in his arms, he lifted her chin, gazed at her lovingly, then took a kiss that held promises and passion and so much more.

  When they finally broke away, he said, “Dinner is in the oven and dessert’s in the refrigerator—double chocolate cheesecake. We can have the place to ourselves all night if we want it. But I told Ace I was sure you’d want to get back to your animals.”

  This time she put her finger on his lips and she kissed him.

  When they came up for air, Grant wrapped one of the blankets around her, then asked, “Can we talk before we eat?”

  “Of course, we can. What do you want to talk about f
irst?”

  They nestled beside each other on a chair big enough for two, Grant’s arm around her and the blanket. She kept looking at the ring, the light from the fire pit making it sparkle.

  “This is so beautiful, Grant.”

  “As beautiful as you are. Wait until you see the facets in the daylight. It’s just like you, all heart with so many unique qualities I’ll never be able to count them all.”

  She leaned into him and snuggled against him in the night chill.

  “I don’t know exactly how to say this next part except to say it. So hear me out, okay?”

  She’d hear out anything he had to say.

  After she nodded, he continued. “I know your faith is important to you. Mine has come to be important to me again, too, with time passing . . . and because of you. After Sally died, I was so angry I couldn’t even think of a God let alone pray to one. But that’s eased up now. I see your faith, your family’s faith, and I know it means a lot to you. So does being able to receive Communion. I talked to your nana about this.”

  “Grant.”

  “I needed some input, Caprice, that’s all. Everything we decide will be between the two of us. We can’t get married in the Catholic church unless I get an annulment.”

  “I know.”

  “I’ve done some research and I have grounds. Naomi and I were dating, but we weren’t in love. She became pregnant and I wanted to do the right thing. We were never a real true love match. I went into that marriage with reservations. An annulment doesn’t mean we were never married. What it would mean was that the sacrament of marriage wasn’t present when we were married, when we said our vows, because our minds weren’t at the right place. More important, our hearts weren’t. Besides that, after Sally died, when each of us was feeling so alone, Naomi had an affair. So the grounds for an annulment will be fairly cut-and-dried. The Pope recently simplified the annulment proceedings. I’m willing to go through them for you, for us, and for your family’s sake. I know they would want you to, and I think the way Naomi and I have left things, she would help me out with this. She has to be part of it with interviews and questionnaires to answer.”