Silence of the Lamps (10 page)

Halo finished the last treat and looked up at her warily. Caprice took another step closer so she was against the table. Halo came over to her and sat in front of her.

A few minutes later Marcus came in.

“I hope I didn’t mess up your schedule,” Caprice apologized.

“I was running a little late, but my next appointment cancelled so we’re good. Let’s take a look at her.”

Marcus was African American, big and burly. His buzz cut was just part of his character, and he usually had a smile on his face. He was running his big hands over Halo, and she was letting him.

“She seems to be a sweetie,” he said.

“Either that or resigned. She limps a little, back right leg.”

After a few more minutes examining her, Marcus said, “I think the limp was caused by an injury that healed.” Then he looked directly into Caprice’s eyes. “You probably don’t want to hear this.”

“You didn’t even take any tests yet.”

“I will. But she’s about a month pregnant.”

“You can tell that just by running your hands over her?”

“And palpitating a little. In another month, somebody’s going to have kittens.”

This had happened to Caprice before, only it had been a dog she’d taken in, not a cat. How would Dulcina feel about taking care of a pregnant stray?

“What does that mean for her health?”

“I’ll test her for FIV and feline leukemia. I can give her a flea treatment and a wormer that’s safe for a pregnant cat. But I can’t give her any shots until she’s finished nursing. She should be separated from other cats for a couple of weeks just to make sure nothing else develops.”

“I might have someone who’s willing to take her.”

“Of course you do. If all my clients did what you do, I wouldn’t have any strays to worry about.”

“How old is she?”

“She’s older than she looks. She has a couple of teeth missing, and some decay. I’d say she’s between three and five. I also think her back leg might have been broken, but it’s healed now. This little gal could have gotten hit by a car or was in some kind of accident.”

Caprice’s heart went out to the cat as she patted her. “Let’s do the testing,” she said, trying to detach a little.

A half hour later, she breathed a huge sigh of relief. Halo’s FIV and feline leukemia tests were clear. Now Caprice called Dulcina.

“How is she?” Dulcina asked, already concerned.

Caprice told her everything Marcus had found, including the pregnancy.

“I don’t know anything about taking care of a pregnant cat, let alone helping one deliver.”

“I helped deliver puppies,” Caprice offered. “I’m sure Marcus will advise you. I found a lot of things online, especially on YouTube. I watched actual deliveries that made me feel a little more confident. Letting nature take its course is usually the best rule. But this is up to you, Dulcina. I’ll keep her until I can find her another home if you don’t want her.”

This time Dulcina didn’t hesitate. “I want her. I’ll take care of her and her babies. I need to feel I’m doing something good.”

“Do you have any supplies? A litter box, litter, dishes, food?”

“I bought a litter box and litter. No food because I wanted to see what you would suggest.”

“I can pick up some food for you here.”

“That works. Do you want me to take Lady over to your place?” Dulcina had been keeping Lady at her house while Caprice helped her uncle.

“That would be great. Marcus gave Halo a flea treatment. Do you have someplace washable you can keep her? A bathroom, maybe?”

“I’ll do better than that. I’ll let her stay in my sunroom. It’s air conditioned like the rest of the house, so if it gets too warm she’ll still be okay. Do you think that would be a good place?”

“I think that would be great. I’m going to be running an errand later this afternoon.” Caprice had already made up her mind that she was going to check on Rowena and the house and see what else she could find out. “So I can stop at Perky Paws,” she went on, “and get you whatever you need.”

“Do you think she’ll like me?” Dulcina asked Caprice.

“She’ll learn to like you,” Caprice assured her. “What she’s going to love most is your kindness.”

* * *

Caprice smiled as she headed for Rowena’s house later that day. Dulcina and Halo were settling in together. Dulcina had laid old washable rugs on the ceramic-tiled floor of the sunroom and dimmed the shades a bit on one side. Caprice had taken her a bag of catnip she’d purchased at the clinic and sprinkled a little on the rugs. After eating and drinking, Halo had settled on one of them and fallen asleep. All was well there for now.

As far as Rowena went, however . . .

As Caprice approached Rowena’s house, she hoped the woman had friends other than Kiki who could help her. Would she be able to stay in that house by herself? Would Jeanie consider moving in with her? How spooky would it be to know someone was murdered in your house and you were still going to live there?

Parking in front of Rowena’s home, Caprice noted that all looked quiet. But that didn’t mean anything. Of course, Rowena could have returned to Kiki’s.

Once at the porch, however, Caprice saw the main door was open. She stood at the screen and rang the bell.

She heard Rowena call, “Be right there.”

From what Caprice could see in the living room, everything looked to be in order. The Oriental rug that had covered the floor was gone. But other than that, there didn’t seem to be any sign of what had happened here.

Caprice could just glimpse the shade of the Tiffany lamp sitting on the side table. Still no base. Had the murderer taken it? Or had the police found it and collected it as evidence?

When Rowena came to the door, she peered at Caprice a few moments as if she had trouble seeing her. So Caprice said, “It’s Caprice, Rowena.”

“I thought it was you,” she said. “No one but Kiki wants to talk to me since my grandson was murdered.”

Caprice suspected that Rowena wasn’t just being paranoid. A murder in a family wasn’t the same thing as a death. Friends shied away from getting too close to it. She’d seen that happen with her friend Roz.

“I’m glad you have Kiki.”

“So am I. Come on in. Everything’s been cleaned up, at least that’s what Kiki tells me. She went out to buy groceries for dinner. She’s staying with me a few nights.”

“That’s kind of her. I’m glad you have a good friend you can count on.”

“It’s not like I can count on Jeanie. Sometimes I don’t think that girl has any sense of family at all.”

“Maybe she just doesn’t know how to express what she’s feeling.”

Rowena nodded. “That’s always been the case. Would you like to sit in the living room . . . or in the kitchen?”

Caprice couldn’t help but remember Drew’s body lying in the living room right next to the sofa. She took another quick look around but didn’t think she’d learn anything from sitting in there.

“The kitchen would be great. My family did their best talking in the kitchen.”

“Preparing meals?” Rowena asked.

“Exactly. When we were chopping or dicing or mixing, we’d reveal things we wouldn’t share otherwise. Maybe that’s why Mom liked to see us cook.”

When Caprice stepped into the kitchen, she realized it looked like a throwback to the fifties. The maple cupboards were worn from years of being open and shut. The floor had been tiled in beige and white, and the counters were covered with green Formica. She did notice that an old stove and refrigerator must have been replaced with stainless steel ones. Had that been Drew’s doing? A red teapot sat on one of the stove’s burners.

Caprice offered, “Would you like me to make us cups of tea?”

Rowena sank into one of the kitchen chairs and pulled herself in at the round oak table. “That would be lovely. I miss Drew not being around here and doing . . .” Her voice broke. She composed herself. “Things like that.”

Caprice patted Rowena’s arm. “I’ll make us that tea.” After she filled the kettle with water, she said, “I guess Drew cooked for you.”

“Yes, he did. He found his vocation with cooking. In recent years I didn’t worry about him as much as I did before.”

“Did he come up with lots of original recipes?”

“No, not really. He was always finding recipes on his computer. When he started out with something new, especially for his business, he didn’t usually test the recipe here, but rather over at his friend’s house.”

“Bronson’s.”

“Yes, Bronson’s. Drew described that kitchen of his to me. It didn’t surprise me. Bronson’s family has always been wealthy. Now he’s rich too, and he enjoys nice things. It was so nice of him to let Drew use his kitchen for his business. Drew told me he couldn’t have rented a place any better.”

“You know, I was at the expo on Sunday. Nikki and Drew were trying to convince the wedding crowd to hire them for their receptions.”

“Drew cooked for me, but he didn’t tell me much about his business. But that sounds like a good place to drum it up.”

“He called his chocolate walnut cake a groom’s cake. At a wedding, there’s often a traditional cake, considered the bride’s cake that is served to the guests. But often now, a couple chooses a cake called the groom’s cake.”

“Really? How odd. No more just white cake. I guess that’s supposed to give everybody a choice.” She was quiet a few moments, then asked, “Did Drew’s cake have maple-flavored frosting?”

“Yes, it did.”

Rowena looked away from Caprice into the living room toward the tall Tiffany floor lamp by the armchair. Caprice remembered the piece of paper she’d seen peeking out from its base. Had Rowena hidden her recipes in there and Drew had known that? Could someone have murdered him for the recipes?

“That certainly does sound like my cake,” Rowena said in a soft voice. “I’ve been making chocolate walnut cake with maple icing since I was about ten. It was my father’s favorite recipe, and my mom made it often. Drew enjoyed eating it. I don’t remember him ever asking me about it, like what spices I put in it, what kind of maple syrup I might use for the icing.”

“It’s possible that Drew’s palate was so well honed he could replicate your recipe just by tasting it.”

Rowena shook her head. “I don’t think so. He was never good at that kind of thing. I used to make these glazed carrots and he couldn’t even tell I had ginger in them. No, either that recipe wasn’t mine or . . .” Rowena just trailed off.

Or Drew had somehow stolen the recipe and not given his grandmother credit for it.

“In which cupboard might I find the teabags?” Caprice asked.

“Top cupboard, on the right, next to the sink. Take your pick. There’s some of that herbal stuff that Drew liked.”

“What would you prefer?”

“I like the plain green tea with just a little bit of sugar.”

Caprice chose the green tea too, found two cups and saucers in the cupboard, and brought them over to the table. “Your china is beautiful.” The teacups were painted with tiny roses, as were the saucers. The cream china looked like fine porcelain.

“They were my mother’s too,” Rowena explained. “Using them brings back so many memories. Drew had his morning coffee mugs, but I always prefer to use these.”

“My Nana has a collection of teacups we use whenever we have tea together.”

“Your Nana and I came from a time when there was pride in everything that was made, from china to the towels we used, to the beautiful linens for the table. Wash-and-wear is important now. People toss away anything damaged and buy new. Not the way I was taught, and probably not you either.”

“No, that wasn’t the way I was taught.” She took a seat across from Rowena. “Maybe that’s why I enjoy vintage clothing and antique jewelry and antiques themselves.” She looked toward the living room. “Your Tiffany lamp is absolutely beautiful. And those colors in the table lampshade—Is there any word on the base?”

“No one knows what happened to it. It was here that day before I left for the performance. The police think the murderer used it to hit Drew and then ran off with it.”

Because it was valuable? Or because he knew he had to get rid of it? And exactly how much value would it have without the shade?

Caprice added sugar to her tea and stirred. Rowena did the same. They both took tentative sips.

“There’s something about a cup of tea that’s comforting, don’t you think?” Rowena asked.

“I agree.”

“Kiki and I finished Celia’s biscotti. They were delicious.”

“I try to bake them too, but mine aren’t as good as hers. Next time I visit, I’ll bring you some of mine and you can compare.”

“I’d like that,” Rowena assured her. “I have a feeling I’m going to be lonely here all by myself. A visit now and then would be nice.”

“I could bring Nana too, and we could have a real tea party.”

A smile played on Rowena’s lips. “That would be wonderful.” She sighed. “I should probably pack everything up and move to a retirement center. But I like having memories around me. I want to stay here as long as I can.”

“Nana felt the same way for a long time, but then she realized she could be happy living near my mom and dad as long as she had some of her memories around her.”

“I have to have cataract surgery soon or I won’t be able to see what’s around me. I’ve been putting it off and putting it off. Jeanie says she’ll take me and bring me home, and I suppose I’ll have to depend on her.”

“Maybe if you depend on Jeanie, she’ll open up to you more.”

“I can always hope.” Rowena reached out and patted Caprice’s hand. “You’re a nice young woman. I’ve heard about you, you know. At church. At the beauty parlor. You’ve helped the police solve a few murders.”

“I never intended to do that,” Caprice admitted. “It just sort of happened.”

“Are you going to try to figure out who killed Drew?”