Silence of the Lamps (18 page)

Chapter Fifteen

Roz left the next morning, and Caprice missed her after she was gone. It was fun engaging in girl talk again with a “roommate.”

Of course, Grant popped into her mind as a possible roommate, and she shooed the image away.

On her to-do list this morning was a stop at Rack O’ Ribs. Later Nana would be pup-sitting while Caprice staged the Spanish house. She would definitely make it a Hacienda Haven, then Denise Langford could bring her other agents through the mansion for a tour. Later this afternoon, she’d meet Roz on the courts.

She wouldn’t think about Grant all day.

Lady looked up at her and barked. Her cocker knew she was in denial.

As Caprice drove to Rack O’ Ribs, she understood that restaurants weren’t staffed only during their posted hours. The manager and kitchen staff had to prep, and they came into work long before the restaurant opened. She drove around the side with the drive-up window and parked on the other side of the restaurant. Instead of going to the front doors, which she knew would be locked, she went around to the back. Lady had wanted to come along, but Caprice promised her she wouldn’t be gone long and then she’d take her to visit Nana to play with Valentine.

She was as fond of the animals that filled her life as she was the people in it.

There was a buzzer on the back door of the restaurant and Caprice pushed it. It was possible the manager wasn’t here.

A member of the waitstaff answered, his apron messy with barbecue sauce streaks. “Can I help you?” he asked impatiently. She read his name tag. It said S
TAN
J
ONES
.

“I’d like to talk to the manager, Bertram Dennis. Is he here?”

The young man glanced over his shoulder. He couldn’t have been more than twenty, and his immaturity showed when he answered, “I’ll check if he wants to see anyone.”

Caprice held the door as he went back inside, and she stepped in. Once inside, it would be easier to get her answers. Once inside, it would be harder for Bertram Dennis to ignore her.

But Bertram Dennis had apparently dealt with whatever came up. He entered the hallway and saw her standing there. “Can I help you?”

“I hope so.” She held out her hand. “My name’s Caprice De Luca.”

He cocked his head as if he was thinking about her name, as if he might recognize it. But he wasn’t making any connections.

“You’re Mr. Dennis?”

He nodded. “I am.” He still looked puzzled as to why she was there. “Did you have a meal you weren’t satisfied with at the restaurant? Something like that?”

“Oh, no. My sister and I were in a few weeks ago, and the ribs with that new barbecue sauce are wonderful.”

He appeared pleased to hear that. “They’ve been good for business, that’s for sure. Everybody must be spreading the word. Do you want to buy in bulk?”

She gave a small laugh. “No. That’s not why I’m here. I’d like to talk to you about Drew Pierson.”

At that, Mr. Dennis took a step back and frowned. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Besides, why would I want to talk to
you
about him?”

“I’m friends with his grandmother, Rowena Pierson.”

Mr. Dennis looked a little less hostile, but he still wasn’t ready to cooperate. “I already talked to both detectives on the case. What do
you
have to do with it, besides being friends with his grandmother?”

“My sister and I found Drew.”

Mr. Dennis’s eyes opened in shock, then he checked over his shoulder. Noise poured from the kitchen area. He and Caprice both knew workers were milling about. He motioned to her to follow him. “Let’s step in here.”

They proceeded a few feet down the hall, and he opened an office door. It was a small office, messy too. Papers were strewn all over the desk. But Dennis didn’t go behind the desk. He just closed the door and stood right beside it.

“Tell me again why I should talk to you.”

“Because my sister is looking for answers. She worked with Drew for a while. She runs Catered Capers.”

Dennis snapped his fingers. “The caterer who was fighting Drew for clients. Do the police think she had a reason to kill him?”

“They might,” Caprice admitted honestly. “So I’m trying to stay one step ahead of them. Please tell me what you knew about Drew.”

Dennis paced the office, then went around his desk and shuffled a few papers, from one side to the other. Afterward, he looked up at Caprice with a troubled expression. “I’ll tell you what I told the police. Pierson was a scumbag in nice duds.”

Caprice wasn’t necessarily surprised by the admission, but she was a little surprised by the venom in Bertram Dennis’s voice. “Can you give me a reason why you thought that?” If she had to push, she would. Because she had the feeling this man knew something . . . something important.

“So many reasons I probably can’t count them all,” he muttered. “But let’s start with my daughter, Tabitha. Pierson acted as if he was interested in her. He took advantage of her. He used his charm on her so that he could present his barbecue sauce to me. Somehow he found out that I knew the CEO of Rack O’ Ribs personally.”

“Why do you think he used your daughter?”

“Because as soon as the contracts were signed, he dropped her. If it weren’t for me, the CEO never would have heard of his barbecue sauce, let alone tasted it. I got him that deal because I thought he and Tabitha were serious.”

The bitterness was so obvious that Caprice wondered if there wasn’t more to this story. “Did he bother your daughter after he dropped her?’

“No. He wouldn’t even take her calls.”

“Did he ask you for more favors? After all, you manage the local restaurant that was going to sell his barbecue sauce.”

“I had to sell the sauce, and it had to do well or my ass was on the line. I threatened to tell the owner of the chain what a true jerk Pierson was, but Pierson blackmailed me.”

“How’s that possible?”

“Tabitha trusted him. She thought they had a future. She told him things she didn’t tell anyone else. She told him things about
me
.”

Caprice kept silent, not knowing if this man would tell her what those things were. When Dennis didn’t go on, she prompted, “Personal things about you?”

He looked uncomfortable. “Do you really need to know this?”

“Anything I know about anyone’s connection to Drew will help me . . . and my sister.”

He ran his hand through his hair. “All right. The detectives already know and so does my wife. No secrets anymore. Tabitha found out I had an affair last year. She saw a text that came in on my phone. I didn’t even know she knew, but Drew Pierson did. He threatened to tell my wife if I made any statements about him to the CEO of the chain. He had me. I made a mistake, and he knew about it, so I was going to sell his barbecue sauce if it killed me.”

“And now?” Caprice asked.

“And now my daughter thinks I’m a cheater. My wife
knows
I’m a cheater, because Tabitha told her after Pierson was murdered. She was so upset about everything that it tumbled out. And Drew Pierson’s barbecue sauce is a doggone success. There’s irony in that, don’t you think?”

There wasn’t only irony in it, there was motive for murder in it. Tabitha, Bertram Dennis, and maybe even his wife could be placed on that suspect list. The suspects for Drew’s murder were multiplying much too fast.

* * *

The tennis courts at the Country Squire Golf and Recreation Club were much different than the public courts Caprice and Nikki had played on. These courts were maintained with pristine white nets and janitorial care that rivaled any a maid would give inside a mansion. Caprice knew her way around the Golf and Recreation Club because she’d gone to dinners here, given workshops here, even played golf—very poorly she might add—with clients. But she’d never played tennis here.

Walking along a golf course on a beautiful day was preferable to running and sweating and tripping and exerting energy in the late-afternoon sun. But today she’d do that. Anything to get more answers to her questions. She’d wondered on the way here if she should just go visit Bronson’s Happy Camper RV site. But if she did, he’d be on guard. If she did, he’d know his way around and she wouldn’t. If she did, she couldn’t have easily cut off conversation she might want to, or leave when questions got too sticky. No, this was the better venue and she should stop second-guessing herself.

Was Grant second-guessing himself now that he’d brought Naomi to Kismet? Did she like the Purple Iris, the small town bed-and-breakfast? Did she feel Kismet could house her aspirations? Those questions led to the fact that Caprice was concerned Naomi would move here to be close to Grant. Should she text him that she was thinking about him?

With all of that racing around in her head, it was very easy to work off her frustration. Every time she imagined one of those questions she couldn’t answer, she slammed that ball so hard, she won her point.

Roz was a little taken aback at how hard she tried. “When did you learn to play like this?”

“I’m just playing to get the most out of the game.”

“Or demolish your opponent. This is just a friendly game, Caprice. I lob a ball to you. You lob one back to me, and we keep it going.”

“I don’t know if that’s enough to attract Bronson’s attention.”

“Then find it another way.”

Caprice and Roz were into another set when Bronson and a second man about his age came onto the court next to theirs. Caprice kept playing, not wanting to be obvious. This could be a very long exercise stretch if she wanted their meeting to seem casual.

She and Roz played. Bronson and his partner played. Finally, somehow they all managed to take a break around the same time.

Plucking a towel from a nearby bench, Caprice flung it around her neck and Roz did the same. Bronson and his partner were talking at a bench close by. When he looked away for a moment, their gazes connected. After a few seconds, she smiled and gave a little wave.

Bronson said something to his partner and came toward her. “Caprice, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is. And you’re Bronson.”

He laughed. “So we both have a good memory, except . . . I’ve never seen you playing tennis here before.”

“Roz Winslow invites me to the Country Squire as her guest. I guess our court times have never matched before.”

He didn’t know this was her first court time.

He looked in Roz’s direction as Roz spotted a friend on another court and crossed to speak to her. “Mrs. Winslow. She was widowed last year, right?” He snapped his fingers. “You helped solve that murder, and now she’s dating your brother.”

“You
are
up to date.”

“Partly that. But Mrs. Winslow is a high-profile woman. She was before her husband was murdered, and she is now.”

“I don’t know if that’s good or bad.”

“People consider her a mover and shaker. Ted Winslow definitely was. She owns a shop in town, doesn’t she?”

“She does. All About You.”

Bronson gave a nod toward Roz again. “And she knows everybody under the sun. She has great public relations skills.”

“That sounds as if you wouldn’t mind dating her yourself,” Caprice observed.

“I wouldn’t. But I didn’t want to move in too quickly. Then she started bringing your brother around. I don’t horn in on another man’s territory.”

If he was being honest, she respected that. “Since we’re being so honest”—she gave him a somewhat flirtatious smile—“I have a question for you.”

“Go ahead. I’ll answer it if I can, especially if it’s about recreational vehicles.”

Always the salesman
, she thought. “No, not about campers. It’s about Drew Pierson.”

“What about Drew?”

“I know you were good friends, and I know you let him work out of your kitchen.”

“I did. It was stupid of him to pay for another facility when I had that big kitchen that he could use.”

“Did you ever talk about his cooking with him?”

Bronson considered her question. “He tested recipes on me, and I tasted them. He said I should get some benefit from his cooking in my kitchen.”

“My sister says that Drew was an adequate cook but that he never created recipes, that he didn’t have that talent. Did you notice if he created in the kitchen?”

Moving his towel back and forth across the back of his neck, Bronson shrugged. “When I watched Drew in the kitchen, he usually had a recipe to follow, one printed off the Internet, or something like that. Does that help?”

“I’m not sure. Nikki claims he stole one of her recipes and served it at the wedding expo. Someone else who knew him claimed he stole his recipe. That’s why I wondered.”

“I just knew Drew was a good cook, not where his inspiration came from. Though if you’re talking about the barbecue sauce recipe, I know Mario Ruiz thinks Drew stole it from him. The two of them had a loud and serious argument a few days before Drew was killed. I came home from work and found them practically at each other’s throats. I didn’t want my place torn apart, so I told Mario to leave or else I’d call the police.”

“Do you think Drew
did
steal the recipe?”

“I don’t know. Drew wouldn’t talk about the fight afterward. He just muttered some comment about everybody was angry with him. Bertram Dennis was the other man who wanted a piece of his hide. Drew told me if Dennis came around, I should tell him I didn’t know where Drew was.”

“Would you have lied for him?”

Bronson didn’t hesitate. “I would have lied if it meant keeping Drew from getting beaten up or hurt. Sure.”

“Nikki believes that Drew was using her to get ahead. Do you think that’s something Drew would do?”

Bronson sighed. “I hate to admit it, but Drew could be a real cad with women, dating them if he thought he could gain something from it. We were friends, but that didn’t mean I approved of all of his tactics.”