Silence of the Lamps (13 page)

No, Caprice could never afford a home like this, but she knew exactly what she would do with it if she could.

Juan arrived, parked in the circular drive, and met her at the heavy dark wood door. When they walked inside, he gave a loud whistle. The entranceway was magnificent with its thirty-foot ceiling.

“Have we ever staged anything like this before?” he asked her.

“Remember the castle house that Roz owned?”

“That’s different. Nobody would want to live in that one. But this . . .” He sounded in awe of the architecture, the style, and the materials.

On the left, a doorway opened into a den or study. It was almost a trapezoid shape with a hexagonal front window and a rounded roof. If they went down the hallway in that direction—the left wing of the house—they would find the master bedroom and bath, a powder room, and a set of stairs to an upper level. If they walked straight ahead, they would find the seven-sided family room. If they stepped through the doorway on their right, they’d enter the dining room that led into a grand kitchen with a breakfast nook and family eat-in area large enough for a dinner party. The staircase that led to the loft was incredibly beautiful with traditional tiling used in Spanish homes. The tiles ranged in design colors from orange to blue, taupe and fuchsia . . . handmade, no two identical. She wouldn’t change the multilayered wrought-iron chandeliers swinging from the vaulted ceilings.

“I want to stage this house with color,” she offered. “Vibrant color. No neutrals here. There’s enough of that in the stonework and the tile and the brick. Think yellow and orange, pink and blue.”

Juan ran his hand over a wall. “Plaster skimmed with a whitewash?”

“Specialized paint, for sure. It looks like something you might find in a Mediterranean villa, but this will withstand the cold and heat of Pennsylvania. I want to find woven rugs in the same colors as those tiles on the staircase.”

“You’re not asking for much.”

“Do I ever?”

Juan laughed as they climbed the curved staircase leading to the second floor. Once there, they stood at the loft railing looking down on the floor below. “We’re both going to have to look through Spanish artwork and even videos of flamenco dance, maybe study paintings by Dali, Goya, and Picasso. Those will give us design images. I’ll look through the rental company’s Web site for pieces in that flavor. But I also want to use pottery—lots of it—as well as sconces, unusual headboards, dark wood, and wrought iron.”

“How about leather? Think metalwork too. And Spanish landscapes,” Juan advised.

She nodded, already picturing it all. “Most of all, I want each space functional with not too many items. The covered porch on the back is going to need its own treatment as if it were inside the house instead of outside.”

As Juan stared down below, he said, “I can imagine sectionals . . . maybe leather trimmed with wood. Possibly a couple of large mirrors to reflect those chandeliers.”

“We might also want to think about framed tapestries with bold designs. Greenery too in the arched crooks and crannies. Soft wool throws in whatever color we decide is dominant.”

“When do we have to be ready to put this on the market?”

“I think it will take us at least a couple of weeks to collect everything. So let’s give it a two-week time frame.”

“Aren’t you going to be tied up with a new murder investigation?”

She remembered all too well her last investigation and what had almost happened. In fact, she’d found herself in danger every time she’d insinuated herself into an investigation. That’s why Grant and her family wanted her to stay out of it. But with Nikki at the police station again right now—

She wasn’t exactly sure what she wanted to do next. “I want Nikki to be in the clear, but I don’t want to create enemies for her or for me. I’m waiting for some kind of lead. Do you know what I mean?”

“One of your signs,” Juan determined wryly.

“I guess so. Let’s face it. In the past, I’ve jumped in and started wading around and made gigantic waves. I didn’t know what I was doing. I still don’t. But this time I want to make sure I don’t put anybody in danger . . . including myself . . . and especially not Nikki. I have to be as unobtrusive as possible.”

“That’s kind of tough when you go around wearing lime green bell-bottoms and tie-dyed T-shirts, never mind the jeweled flip-flops.”

She wrinkled her nose at him. “You sound like Bella.”

He laughed. “So what are you going to do next?”

“Grocery Fresh is hosting a raspberry festival on Saturday. Since Nikki is involved in the investigation and word is going to spread that she and I found Drew’s body, I would expect if we just mingled there, go from stand to stand, chat people up, we could find out tidbits without even trying. I don’t have to ruffle feathers that way if I just listen. As it is, I think Bella and I ruffled Jeanie’s feathers—Drew Pierson’s sister. She believes Nikki did it. And if she goes spreading that rumor all over town, it could catch more fire. More fire, more pressure on the police department to solve this.”

“Is Nikki going to be serving anything at this raspberry festival?”

“I don’t think so. It’s better if she keeps a low profile. But Nana’s entering the raspberry dessert contest. I might too.”

“Speaking of food, do you have any ideas what you want to serve at this open house?”

“I’ll leave that up to Nikki. Maybe churros—Spanish fritters. While I was waiting for you, I also read something about a garbanzo and chorizo stew. I saw a picture of these long cigar-shaped sweetbreads too, which originated in the region of Valencia. I’m sure Nikki will have a ton of ideas. This house is going to generate one idea after the other. Can’t you just see it, Juan?”

He gave her an affectionate smile. “Can I see your vision? Sure, I can. Down to a tall acilino on a credenza.”

The strands of “Let It Be” played from Caprice’s pocket. She slipped her phone out and saw Nikki’s photo. “I have to take this,” she said to Juan. “It’s Nikki.”

“I’ll go downstairs and explore outside. Maybe the landscaping will provide ideas for the covered porch furniture.”

As he loped down the stairs, Caprice connected with Nikki. “Are you finished at the police station?” she asked her sister.

“I’m done for now. I doubt I’m finished for good. They took me over the same ground repeatedly. Finally Detective Jones left and it was just me and Detective Carstead.”

“Are you wishing Vince had been there?”

“No. They didn’t try to trip me up or anything. They’re just checking every little detail. Detective Carstead had a list. When did I meet Drew? How often did I work with him? When did I stop working with him? It’s a good thing I keep accurate work notes on my tablet so I could tell him the exact dates.”

“But you had told him all that before.”

“Yes, I had. And, at times, he seemed almost apologetic for asking again. You know, he’s really kind of cute.”

“Brett Carstead? Cute?” Every woman had her own idea of
cute
. “You didn’t flirt with him, did you? That could get you into big trouble.”

“No flirting. I controlled myself. It’s too serious a situation to even think about it. But after this is all over, who knows what could happen?”

Caprice thought she heard hope in Nikki’s voice. Her sister had been so down . . . first about Drew’s competition and then about what had happened. She was glad to hear positive energy from Nikki, even if it had to do with the hunkiness of Detective Carstead.

Do you know anything about him?” Nikki asked. “Like, is he married?”

“Don’t know,” Caprice said. “Never asked.”

“He doesn’t wear a ring. But that might have to do with his work.”

“Or not,” Caprice suggested blandly. “Grant might know.” Then she remembered what was going on with her and Grant. “But now isn’t a good time to ask him . . . anything.” She’d already told Nikki about Grant’s ex-wife and what he planned to do.

“Aren’t you two talking?” Nikki asked, sounding surprised.

“There’s nothing to talk about right now. Not until this is all over. Not until he makes decisions.”

“Whether he wants a serious relationship with you?”

“Even more important, he has to decide whether his bonds with his ex-wife are cut or if he wants to keep those threads.”

“And if he does?” Nikki asked.

“I don’t know. I don’t know what that will mean for either of us or for both of us together.”

“Don’t give up,” Nikki counseled her.

“I’m not giving up. I’m just afraid to hope. I’m going to concentrate on staging this Spanish-themed house. And figuring out who might have murdered Drew. I want you to mingle with me at the raspberry festival and see what we can learn.

“At least we’ll have raspberry delights to munch on while we snoop.”

Raspberry delights. She’d like to be sharing them with Grant.

Chapter Twelve

Caprice had been keeping tabs on Dulcina and her new adoptee through text messages. But she wanted to see for herself how Halo was faring. She knew Dulcina was a kind, gentle person. But not everyone was a cat person. Maybe she’d thought more about the responsibility of caring for a cat with kittens and had changed her mind.

On Monday morning while Lady played with her kibble release toy and Sophia and Mirabelle napped, Caprice crossed the street to Dulcina’s house. After she rang the bell, it took her neighbor a few minutes to come to the door. Caprice was almost ready to text her to see if she was home when Dulcina opened it. She looked a bit harried. Instead of her hair being tied back, it was loose around her face and a bit flyaway.

“I was in the closet upstairs looking for old towels,” she explained. “They’re fine for Halo but not for the kittens. I think receiving blankets would be better, from what I’ve read on the Internet. Their little claws won’t get caught in them.”

Caprice had to smile as Dulcina motioned her inside. “So you’re going to visit the baby store?”

“No, I found a good deal online. They’ll be here in two days. I’ll have everything washed up and ready. I have one of those storage bins. I’m going to line it with newspaper and put the receiving blankets on top.”

Caprice followed Dulcina into her sunroom, where Halo was sitting on a new condo in front of the window. “How’s she doing?”

“This morning she let me pet her. She didn’t back away from my hand.”

“That’s a good sign. Is she eating for you?”

“She gobbles everything down like she hasn’t eaten for months.”

“Marcus said she was malnourished. She might eat like that the whole way through her pregnancy and while she’s nursing. Are you still willing to do all of this?”

“Yes, I am. I downloaded a book about cats having kittens, and I’ve watched a few videos. I know there’s a possibility that things can go wrong. If for some reason she’s not a good mother, I might have to hand-feed the kittens every two hours. But, Caprice, it feels so good to be giving time to nurturing this little being. Do you know what I mean?”

“I know exactly what you mean.” Slowly approaching the condo, Caprice said, “Hi there, Halo. Do you like it here?”

The purring cat gave her a slanted-eye look that wasn’t either cautious or accepting. It was quite serene, really.

“That first night I wasn’t too sure how she’d be in here,” Dulcina explained. “She went from window to window and looked like she wanted to go back out. She meowed. But I just talked to her softly and kept showing her the litter box. I closed the blinds and stayed in here with her and read. Finally she just sat too and then fell asleep. She looked exhausted.”

“The trauma of being captured and taken to the vet could have exhausted her. But you have to remember, being outside, she was never safe where she slept. She probably always slept with one eye open. Feral or stray cats have to be vigilant constantly. Are you going to keep her in here?”

“Just for today yet. The flea treatment should have done its thing by now, according to the pamphlets the vet gave you. I’ll wash up the sunroom really well and then let her explore. I’ll watch to see her favorite places and then put a bin nearby. Maybe I’ll put one in two different places.”

“She might like someplace darker than the sunroom to have her babies.”

“That’s what I read. I’m thinking in the kitchen. I can move the chair away from my little desk nook and put the bin under there. She should feel safe.”

“It sounds as if you have all the bases covered.” Caprice walked closer to Halo and then stretched out her hand, very slowly. The cat eyed her warily but didn’t jump or move away. She sniffed a few times, then folded her paws underneath her.

“You’re a beautiful girl,” Caprice said to her. “After good food and loving, you’ll make a great companion.”

“I talked to Rod last night and told him about her.”

“And?” Caprice prompted.

“And he told his girls right while we were on the phone. Vanna even got on the phone to ask me about her. She’s the younger one.”

“So kittens could be a bonding experience with them too.”

“I can hope. Nothing else has been. The concert on Sunday might be, but I won’t know how they’re going to react until we’re there. On the other hand, who can resist kittens?”

Caprice laughed. “Lots of people can.”

“I still have so much to learn. From what I read, I shouldn’t handle them if I don’t have to for two weeks, except to weigh them and that kind of thing. And I don’t think I’d let anybody else touch them for a month, especially not anyone who hasn’t been around animals.”

“That sounds about right.”

“I am nervous about being a midwife, though.”

“You don’t have to do it on your own. I can give you Marcus’s number. And you can call me if you need me. I’ve never delivered kittens, but I’ve helped to deliver pups.”

That brought back bittersweet memories. She and Grant . . . delivering Lady’s litter. Caprice had found Lady’s mom in
her
mother’s tomato garden. She’d named her Shasta because she was the color of Caprice’s daisies. When Caprice had found her owners, however, she learned that Shasta’s real name was Honey.

“I thought of asking around to see if anyone wanted a kitten,” Dulcina said, studying Halo. “But I don’t want to be superstitious about this. I’m just going to wait until they’re born. Then I’ll go from there. I know for sure I want to keep one of them with Halo.”

For Halo’s sake, as well as Dulcina’s, Caprice hoped all went well. Dulcina was definitely invested in the process.

Caprice lowered herself into one of the lawn chairs Dulcina had arranged in the sunroom. The blue-and-green-flowered cushion was comfortable.

Dulcina sat in the chair beside her. “Would you like coffee? Vanilla hazelnut.”

Caprice laughed. “You’ve convinced me.”

Dulcina was already on her feet. “You just stay there and commune with Halo. I’ll get us some.”

About five minutes later, Dulcina returned with two mugs. She handed one to Caprice. “I hope it’s right. A dab of sugar and a couple of teaspoons of milk.”

“You’ve got it.”

After Dulcina was seated, Caprice asked, “Are you going to the raspberry festival?”

“I don’t know. I think I’m going to stay close to home for the next month, except for short errands . . . and the concert. I want to make sure Halo is okay.”

“How about Rod?”

“I don’t see him that often as it is. It’s rare that the girls don’t have to be run here, there, and everywhere on a weekend. He doesn’t like me to be too involved in that, or else the girls don’t want me to be involved. I’m not sure which it is.”

“They play soccer, right?”

“They do.”

“Maybe he feels it would be boring for you to sit at their games. Have you told him you want to go?”

“Not really. I didn’t want to push in where I wasn’t wanted.”

“If you don’t ask or push, he might not know you’re interested in the girls’ welfare as well as his.”

“That’s a thought.” She paused, looked at Halo and then out the window at the sunny end-of-June day. “Even though he’s been divorced for a long time, I don’t know if he’s ready for a relationship.”

“I can relate to that,” Caprice said before she thought better of it.

“But you’re dating Grant now. Aren’t you two becoming more serious?”

“I thought we were. But his ex-wife’s coming to town and he’s going to see her. He feels as if he has to.”

“And you’re worried he’s not ending anything.”

“Something like that. There’s this wall up between us now. And until she comes and goes, I can’t see either of us jumping over it.”

“Don’t be out of touch with him,” Dulcina counseled. “You need to stay connected.”

“But that hurts when I don’t know what he wants,” Caprice admitted to Dulcina and herself.

“Maybe you could text him ‘Thinking of you’ or something like that.”

“With a little heart?” Caprice almost joked.

“Don’t get too flowery about it. But just let him know you want it to work.”

“Are you doing that with Rod?” Caprice asked slyly. “Does he know you want to get close to his girls? Not just because you want to date him, but because you want to mother them?”

“I don’t know if they want to be mothered.”

“Everyone wants to be mothered whether they’ll admit it or not,” Caprice suggested.

“A lot will depend on their going to the concert and their reaction to it.”

“Don’t put any expectations on it, or you won’t have fun yourself. If they see you and Rod having fun, that can make a difference too. Surely they want their dad to be happy.”

“Are girls that age that unselfish?”

“If he’s raised them to care about others, they might be.”

Halo suddenly rose, stretched, then studied the two of them.

“She has such long legs,” Caprice said.

“If you watch how she sits there,” Dulcina noted, “you can see that she’s crooked. That one back leg folds up higher than the other one. And when she walks, there’s a slight limp there.”

“She’s a lucky kitty to have survived some kind of accident. The wonderful thing is that she’s not wild or nasty. Even at the clinic, she let Marcus examine her and didn’t put up a fuss. There’s a resignation about her. Or maybe it’s just serenity. I don’t know.”

Halo jumped down off the condo and went to a bowl that held a few kitten crunchies. She gobbled them up quickly as if someone might take them if she didn’t.

“She hasn’t sat on the chairs yet,” Dulcina observed. “It’s as if she’s just used to the ground, and maybe trees. I guess that’s why she likes the condo.”

Halo made a turn around the room, stopped at the door leading into the kitchen and living room, then went to sit on the rug that Dulcina had laid in front of the French door.

“Have you found out anything more about who might have killed Drew Pierson?”

“I met a couple of his friends at the funeral reception. And his sister seems to already be numbering her grandmother’s possessions for when she inherits.” Caprice shook her head. “I shouldn’t have said that. You didn’t hear me say that.”

Dulcina laughed. “If it’s true, then maybe she has a motive. What kind of person is she?”

“I’m not exactly sure. She seemed volatile. On the other hand, inviting an antiques dealer to the funeral reception is calculating.”

“And Drew’s friends?”

“From what I could tell after spending just a few minutes with them, Bronson Chronister seems like an interesting guy. He comes from money. His father made Happy Camper RV Center into a huge success. Bronson’s taken over now.”

“Camping,” Dulcina said with disgust. “Not something I want to contemplate.”

“From what Bronson says, the newest campers have every convenience. It’s not the
camping in a tent
experience. It’s more like
staying in your own hotel room on wheels and seeing the surrounding sights
experience.”

“I wonder if Rod has ever thought about doing that with his daughters. Do you think you can rent them?” Dulcina asked.

“You want to be cooped up with Rod, a teen, and a preteen for a weekend?” Caprice returned.

“That does sound pretty unsettling. And once the kittens are born, they’ll probably need me twenty-four hours a day.”

Caprice wondered if Dulcina wasn’t using the idea of Halo and her kittens to give herself an out with Rod in case things didn’t work out. Could they be an excuse for her not to get more involved? Maybe she wasn’t any more ready than he was.

“If I’m prying, just tell me to butt out. But you never talk about your first marriage.” Caprice knew Dulcina had been a young widow but not the details of what had happened.

“It was a wonderful marriage,” Dulcina assured Caprice. “And I don’t say that looking back with rose-colored glasses. Johnny was perfect for me, and I seemed perfect for him. Once we met in high school, we knew we were going to be together forever. But I learned the hard way that forever is for fairy tales. An icy road and a drunk driver coming at him . . . he didn’t have a chance for forever . . . and neither did I.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I try not to think about it anymore,” Dulcina said with a sudden catch in her voice. “I still miss him so much. And the truth is, I don’t think I’ll ever find anything like that relationship again. We were soul mates. How do you have a second act to that?”

“I guess you start by deciding if you
want
a second act. Do you?”

“I think I do. Being alone sucks after awhile. I’m not afraid to be alone but, on the other hand, I don’t want to settle for less than I had.” She sighed. “If you play armchair psychologist with me, you’ll have a field day. You’d say I’m not pushing things with Rod because I might not want to.”

Dulcina didn’t need
her
to play psychologist. She’d already come to important realizations on her own. “Right now, I’m not the one to give any advice.”

“Maybe I should help you solve a murder instead of worrying about my relationship woes.”

“I have a feeling when those kittens arrive, you won’t have much time for anything else.”

“I see that as a good thing,” Dulcina decided. “If I lower my expectations with Rod and concentrate on the kittens, maybe karma will take care of itself.”

That was the thing with karma. The universe was made up of actions and reactions. Every action caused a reaction. So if you did nothing, were there no reactions?

Either the murder or worrying about Grant was getting to her. “I have a feeling I’m going to be over here watching those kittens a lot. Then both of us can forget about everything else.”

Was that possible?

In about a month she’d find out.

* * *

Raspberries were definitely in the air on Saturday. Grocery Fresh had commandeered the town park for their festival. Their stand with quart boxes of raspberries sent the sweet aroma into the whole area, or so it seemed.