Silence of the Lamps (16 page)

Caprice had worn a skort in pink gingham and a pink tank with a little fringe. Her sneakers were printed with peace signs in fuchsia. “I don’t look vintage. I just look cool, or groovy, whichever word you want to choose.”

Nikki groaned. Her own blue tank and running shorts were skimpy, but that’s what she liked to wear to move around the tennis court. Her outfit looked great on her, since Nikki was more slender than Caprice. If Caprice lost about ten pounds . . . That had been her wish for the past few years.

“I have a favor to ask,” Nikki said. “I already asked Bella and she said yes.”

That always applied subtle pressure when two sisters were on board.

“What favor?”

“Bella doesn’t work at All About You tomorrow night, and she agreed to help serve with me and Serena at the wedding reception. Can you help too? Since this is last minute, I’m having trouble finding waitresses. The four of us would work together well. You’ve been around Serena at the open houses.”

Serena was friendly and efficient, and Caprice liked her. “Sure I can help. I’ll see if Uncle Dom can sit with Lady. If not, maybe Mom can keep her company.”

As they sipped water and caught their breath, Caprice thought about what she should tell Nikki, and what she shouldn’t, about the information on Drew she’d ferreted out so far. They were friends as much as sisters. Because of the friendship as well as the sisterhood, they didn’t keep secrets.

She took another long swig of water. “I ran into Larry Penya at Shape Up today.”

“You did? Did you learn anything?”

When she was slow to answer, Nikki eyed her with a shrewd sisterly look. “You should have called me if you learned something.”

“Why call when I was seeing you tonight.”

“Okay, now you’re seeing me. Talk.”

“You’re not going to like it.”

“What else is new these days? What did he have to say?”

Lady must have heard the tension in their voices, because she stopped chewing, dropped the toy to the ground, wiggled herself between Caprice’s and Nikki’s legs, and put her paws up on the bench.

Caprice stroked her dog’s neck. “It’s okay, baby, we’re just talking.”

“Not yet we’re not,” Nikki murmured, then gave Lady a pat too.

“First of all,” Caprice began, “Larry told me that Drew pointed us out when he was working at the Valentine’s Day dance.”

“That’s not toxic. So tell me what is.”

“I asked him if Drew really liked you, as a woman, not as a chef.”

Nikki’s face, already flushed from exercise, grew a little pinker. “And?”

“And, he told me Drew wanted to work with you to learn what he could from you—about running a catering business, about the type of food you cooked.”

“That’s what sous chefs do.”

“Larry also confided that Drew thought if the two of you got serious, then you’d partner up and he’d be on his way.”

“I’d already guessed that, but it isn’t easy to hear.”

“I didn’t just learn about his attitude toward you, though. Apparently Drew was a conniver. Larry maintains that Drew got serious with the manager’s daughter at Rack O’ Ribs because the manager could put in a good word for him. Mr. Dennis was friends with the CEO of the chain. That’s how the barbecue sauce got its tasting, and that’s how it got put into the pipeline. I’m putting that manager on my short list of people to talk to.”

“You’ve decided to go after this full throttle, haven’t you? Vince isn’t going to like it. Grant’s not going to like it.”

“Vince can live with it. He has before. And as far as Grant goes? He doesn’t have any say over my life.”

“Caprice?” Nikki’s voice held a cautious note that warned Caprice to be cautious too.

“How am I supposed to think about this, Nikki? He’s doing what he needs to do. I need to do what I need to do. Quid pro quo, or something like that, if we have to put it in lawyer’s terms.”

“We don’t have to put it in lawyer’s terms, and I don’t think Grant would either. Just because he’s spending some time with Naomi doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about you. Can’t you get that through your head?”

“I only know what I’m feeling, and if I have insecurities, well, so be it. I’m not confident about our relationship because of his background.”

“Your own background doesn’t help much either. Maybe you could trust Grant if you hadn’t been dumped by two men.”

“Thanks a lot for the reminder.”

Nikki nudged her shoulder. “I meant it in the nicest way. You deserve better than a man who could forget about you because of a long-distance relationship, or because of a man who wasn’t finished with his ex-wife.”

“Gee, who does that sound like?” Caprice muttered.

“You usually have a better attitude.”

Caprice was saved from a response when a black sedan pulled up along the curb beside the tennis courts. It was shiny and just washed and caught their attention. Both were surprised when Detective Carstead climbed out.

He wasn’t wearing a suit tonight, but rather navy dress slacks and a wrinkled cream Oxford shirt. No tie was in evidence. Had he spotted them when he was driving by and just decided to stop and chat?

As the detective strode closer, Lady yipped at him. It wasn’t a stay-away yip. It was sort of a “hello” yip. After all, Lady was friendly.

Her soft bark didn’t seem to bother the detective. He stepped right up to the bench and looked down at the cocker. She looked up at him as if she wanted a head pat. Caprice reminded herself that her dog was a good judge of character.

“Hello, ladies.” His glance toward Nikki seemed to take in her tennis attire. But then he turned to Caprice. “Does she belong to you?”

“Yes, she does. She’s all mine.”

“Is she friendly?”

Feeling a bit out of sorts this evening, Caprice returned, “Friendlier than I am.”

The corner of his lip twitched up as if he wanted to smile but wasn’t going to. Holding out his hand to the cocker, he let Lady sniff it. She rubbed her ear against it, then she rolled over for a tummy rub.

Caprice just shook her head. What if Detective Carstead wasn’t a friend, but rather the enemy? Could she trust her dog to decide which he was?

Receiving the message, the detective rubbed her tummy for a while, said, “You’re a beauty,” then rose to his feet again. “I recognized you when I drove by. I was going to give you a call in the morning, but this is just serendipity.”

“Serendipity,” Caprice repeated. “What were you going to call me about?”

“I heard you went to Drew Pierson’s funeral.”

“I did. Nikki didn’t.”

He glanced at her sister again. “I know that.”

Of course he did. After all, he was an investigator.

“You knew Drew Pierson’s grandmother well enough to pay your respects?” he asked with a probing look.

“First of all, we were there the day he was murdered. Second of all, my mom and Nana know her from church. Third of all, it only seemed right.”

His expression was totally neutral, and she clamped her lips shut before she said anything else. Nikki had remained silent, which was a good thing.

Brett Carstead shifted on his wing-tipped shoes, then he asked, “Are you investigating the murder?”

Caprice knew when the Fifth Amendment had to apply. She wasn’t going to answer that one.

He gave a resigned sigh. “I warned you before, and I’m going to warn you again. Keep out of it. You’re putting yourself in danger, and it’s not necessary.”

She knew he was thinking about the last murder she inadvertently solved at the same time the police were closing in.

Now Nikki spoke up. “Am I a suspect?”

The look the detective gave her sister was a bit longer than necessary. “I can’t discuss the investigation, and you shouldn’t be either.”

Nikki held up her hands like stop signs. “I’m not discussing the investigation, at least not with anybody other than Caprice . . . and of course Vince.”

Carstead gave a little grunt. He couldn’t fault her for that answer. Caprice noticed the way Brett Carstead was gazing at her sister. He didn’t want to fault her at all. He didn’t want to charge her with a murder. In fact, he
could
want to date her.

And the way Nikki was gazing at him—

Carstead broke his eye contact with Nikki. “Enjoy your game of tennis. I’m glad I stopped. This saved me a phone call.” Not forgetting about Lady, he gave her another pat on the head, then he turned and walked away.

Nikki watched his long-legged stride, the way he rounded the car, then opened his door and climbed inside.

“What are you thinking?” she asked Nikki.

“I’m thinking he’s pretty hot for a detective.”

Caprice groaned. As if they didn’t have trouble enough.

Chapter Fourteen

For Caprice, dressing on Tuesday evening as a server—which meant conservatively—was almost painful. She smoothed down her white apron tied over black slacks and a white blouse. The wedding reception was being held in the social hall adjacent to the Kismet United Methodist Church. Although Nikki had been nervous about catering this event, she needed the income, and she also needed the recommendations if the reception went well.

Bella nudged Caprice and nodded toward the wedding cake. It was Nikki’s new specialty—a square carrot cake with two connected crystal hearts perched on top. Silver swirls ran down the sides. It was quite attractive.

“Would you want that at your wedding?”

Bella was just making conversation, helping the time go faster while they served the meal. But Caprice didn’t want to talk about weddings. Still she answered cheerily, “I love Nikki’s carrot cake.”

Bella gave her a long look. “Are you and Grant still on the outs?”

Caprice shrugged. “I haven’t heard from him.”

“He stopped by the swings with Patches at the Raspberry Festival to say hello. His ex didn’t look too pleased,” Bella said with a wink.

Caprice was silent.

“I know from my counseling sessions with Joe, you shouldn’t let things fester,” Bella added more seriously.

“Nothing’s festering. He has to make a decision.”

“Or, you have to stand by him,” Bella warned sagely.

Caprice knew Bella had learned a lot about standing by Joe when she and her husband had been going through their problems. Was she looking at this all wrong? Should she just
be there
for Grant?

It was time for the couple to cut the beautiful cake. The billowing wedding gown sparkled under the lights as the groom took the bride’s hand and they strolled toward the cake stand together. Nikki was waiting for them with an engraved cake knife that the bride had provided. As soon as the bride and groom cut those first slices, Bella and Caprice would swoop in with trays and dishes. Nikki would push the cake into the kitchen and Serena would quickly slice pieces for the guests.

Trudi placed her hand on top of her groom’s on the knife. They were so young, Caprice thought, probably in their midtwenties. They looked as if they expected their lives to turn out just the way they wanted them to. Maybe they would.

Nikki was there with a silver-trimmed white plate to collect the slice the couple cut. Then she held it up for each of them to take a piece to feed each other. Trudi fed her groom first, and he had icing all over his mouth. He fed her a bit more daintily. Everyone applauded when they were finished.

Nikki was about to wheel the cake toward Bella and Caprice when one of the guests approached her. The woman was older than Caprice, but it was hard to tell how old with her bleached blond hair and her polished red fingernails. She wore loads of makeup too, and she caught Caprice’s attention because of it. Caprice didn’t wear much makeup, and when she saw someone who did, Caprice took notice and wondered what she was trying to prove . . . or what she was trying to hide. In this case, she was probably trying to hide wrinkles.

The woman pointed to Nikki’s wedding cake. “I saw you at the wedding expo when I was there with Trudi. She was supposed to be using Drew Pierson. They would have had a chocolate walnut groom’s cake then.”

“I’m sorry if you would have preferred that,” Nikki said blandly, and Caprice could tell she didn’t intend to give in to an argument with this woman.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have taken over this wedding reception. Maybe you should have let someone else handle it.”

Caprice could tell that Nikki just wanted to go hide somewhere, but her sister was made of sterner stuff than that. “Drew and I were in competition for business. I saw no reason to turn down this job when Trudi couldn’t find anyone else. She would have had to cancel the reception. Is that what you would have wanted her to do?”

The woman who had accosted Nikki took a step back. “She could have had a deli cater it. There were alternatives.”

“Not according to Trudi. Maybe you should ask her. Maybe you should ask her why she chose me.”

Just then, Trudi came over to Nikki and said, “Everyone’s raving about the food. You’ve done a marvelous job here tonight.” She looked at the guest who was a relative or a friend. “Delia, are you telling Nikki how pretty her cake is?”

“No,” the woman snapped. “Pretty doesn’t matter if she had a motive for murder.”

Instead of being embarrassed, Trudi patted the woman’s arm. “Delia, I think you’ve been reading too many mystery novels. Nikki’s trying to do her job just like everyone else. That chocolate walnut groom’s cake attracted us to Drew Pierson’s menu, but Nikki’s meal tonight was flawless, and we should have just gone with her in the first place. Please try her carrot cake and see how good it is. That’s all that matters.”

Caprice had been about to step in, but Trudi had done it for her, and very adroitly too.

Delia took a last look at Nikki and huffed away.

Her bridal gown rustling from here to next year, Trudi pushed her veil over her shoulder and gave Nikki a huge hug. She said, “My husband’s the one who wanted to go with Drew in the first place. I would have chosen you. You’ve done a fabulous job tonight. So don’t let what Delia said bother you one little bit. No one else is thinking it.”

Bella leaned close to Caprice and nodded to some of the other guests who were looking their way. “That’s a nice sentiment, and I’m sure Trudi means it. But I have a feeling there’s more than one person in this room thinking that Nikki might have done it.”

Caprice was absolutely sure that Bella was right.

* * *

“You need to get yourself a police scanner.”

Caprice had been in the middle of working up figures for a proposal for a house staging when she’d answered Isaac Hobbs’s call Wednesday evening.

“Why should I get a police scanner when you have one and Lloyd Butterworth at the Koffee Klatch has one. I usually hear the news before it makes it down the street.”

Isaac gave a grunt. “I just have one for entertainment value when I don’t have any customers in the shop. Lloyd Butterworth milks his for all it’s worth and thinks it brings him business.”

“He could be right about that. His coffee’s darn good too.”

“And mine isn’t?”

Isaac let his pot of coffee sit all day. Sometimes when she went to visit in the afternoon, it tasted as if it had been burnt to a crisp, and that was hard to do with coffee. “Your coffee provides great conversation.” She went back to their original subject. “Why do I need a scanner?”

“Because Rowena Pierson’s house was burglarized last night.”

“What?”

“You heard me. This is small-town Kismet. You don’t just go by codes. I listen to chatter too. The police were called to that address for an attempted break-in. That’s basically all I know, except . . . I called a friend of a friend who knows one of the officers. She said they don’t think anything was taken.”

“Then why the break-in?” Caprice mused.

“I don’t know. I did find the paperwork on her lamps. The table lamp is worth around $200,000 and the floor lamp around $400,000. But those prices swing around at auctions. One auction house I know of deals mainly with Tiffany lamps. They have a list of private collectors always on the lookout. Then, of course, there is Christie’s.”

The most high-end auction house
, Caprice thought.

Isaac added, “There are lots of forgeries. Provenance often tells the tale. Rowena’s lamps have provenance dating back to 1929. Are you going to pay Rowena a visit and nose around?”

“I can’t very well do that tonight. I have work with deadlines. Besides, a visit this soon would be unseemly.”

“Like you were nosing around,” he agreed.

“I have to be careful, Isaac. Detective Jones’s eyes are on me.”

“Is Rowena Pierson’s place within walking distance?”

“It could be if I wanted the exercise. Why?”

“So take Lady for a walk tomorrow and Jones won’t be the wiser.”

Not only her work van but her yellow Camaro was recognizable, and Isaac might have a valid point. “I’ll think about it.”

“If you snooze, you lose.”

She laughed. “I get the idea, Isaac. If you hear anything else, will you let me know?”

“Sure will. And if you need my services, you know where to find me.”

Isaac and the paperwork at his shop had helped her out before. “You’re a good friend, Isaac.”

“And you’re a great customer.”

She knew Isaac tried to be hard-boiled on the outside, but he was a softie on the inside. After all, he’d attended her birthday party in April and brought her the cutest little vintage cat creamer.

“I’ll take your advice to heart,” she told him.

“And you’ll let me know what happened with the break-in?”

Caprice had to smile. “I promise I’ll let you know. Thanks for the tip.”

“Anytime.”

As she ended the call with Isaac, Caprice realized that he was a good friend, not just a contact. She’d have to invite him over for dinner sometime so they could really chat, or maybe invite him to one of the De Luca family dinners. He’d get a kick out of that.

* * *

She was thinking about the next family dinner, what she’d make, whether Grant would be there, as she walked Lady the following morning and headed for Rowena’s. Midmorning in early July, heat was already setting in. She’d chosen to wear fifties-style turquoise pedal pushers and a white blouse with turquoise pinstripes. Her sneakers were comfortable for walking.

Lady didn’t seem in any hurry as she snuffled the grass along the sidewalk and then looked up at Caprice inquiringly.
Does this walk have a destination?

“Yes, it does,” Caprice told her. “I don’t know if Rowena likes dogs, though, so we might be staying outside on the porch.

Lady tilted her head as if considering that.

Caprice rubbed her, and Lady heeled perfectly for the rest of the walk. She responded to praise so well, and treats worked too, though Caprice used them less now than she used to. At ten months old, Lady was growing into her beautiful self. Her golden color was rich and deep, and the cream along her ears reminded Caprice of the golden highlights in Nikki’s hair. Nikki probably wouldn’t like being compared to Lady.

As Caprice reached Rowena’s block, she noticed the flowers dotting the yards—purple and white petunias, red roses in full glory, marigolds a neighbor had planted along a border. Caprice wondered if Rowena would even be staying at her house or if she would be staying with Kiki again because of the break-in.

The next minute, her question was answered. A white van had parked at the curb outside of Rowena’s house. Two men hurried down the steps and climbed into the vehicle, slamming the doors. As Caprice and Lady approached, she heard the van start up, then it pulled away from the curb and sped down the street.

Maybe repairs had been necessary if someone had broken in. Had Rowena been here when it happened?

She was hoping she’d soon have her questions answered.

Lady ran up the steps beside Caprice. Caprice put her finger to the doorbell, but before she could even press it, Rowena was at the door.

“Hi, Caprice, what brings you here?”

Caprice nodded to Lady. “I was taking her for a walk and just headed in your direction.”

“Oh my. I missed her at first.”

“I understand if you don’t want a dog inside. I just came to check on you and see how you’re doing.”

“I’ve never had a dog, but I don’t mind yours coming in as long as she doesn’t run around and knock everything over.”

“She’s usually pretty well behaved,” Caprice assured Rowena. “If she gets rambunctious I’ll bring her back outside again. I brought one of her toys that she can chew on while we’re talking.”

“That sounds good.”

“Was that a repair truck I saw leaving?”

Rowena waited until Caprice and Lady were inside before she answered. “Not exactly a repair truck. One of those was here yesterday to fix my basement window. Someone broke in night before last.”

“Were you here?”

“Yes, I was here. I was all settled in my bedroom when I heard a noise. I didn’t know what it was. Apparently it was someone breaking in that basement window. They made it up to the living room, but I had my four-pronged cane and I went after whoever it was. The person wore a hoodie, so I couldn’t tell if the intruder was male or female. I wish my sight was as good as it once was. Anyway, I chased whoever it was back down the basement and shut the door and put a chair in front of it. Then I called the police.”

“I can’t believe you did that! You’re fortunate the burglar ran.”

“I am, aren’t I? That’s what the police said too. They think whoever it was wanted to steal something. Maybe the Tiffany lamps. But I don’t know. I did see that the burglar had something on his hands. They looked white. The police think those were latex gloves. From what I could tell, nothing was taken. I guess I surprised him. Maybe he expected me to still be at Kiki’s.”

That was a reasonable supposition.

“So the police didn’t find any evidence of who was here?”

“Only the broken glass from the basement window. The men you saw leaving were installing my burglar alarm system. I should have had it done a long time ago because of the Tiffany lamps if nothing else. But nobody knew their worth. Not really.”

Was that true?
Were
the lamps the object of the break in? Or did Rowena have something of Drew’s that the burglar might have wanted? Even more possible, what if the burglar knew about the recipes inside the light? Did he or she want those?

Rowena motioned to the sofa. “Please sit.”

Caprice undid Lady’s leash and gave her the toy she’d brought along.