Silence of the Lamps (8 page)

“There she is,” Bella said, elbowing Caprice.

A woman around their age sat at the counter, studying the computer monitor before her. Caprice could see photos of flowers, and she guessed the page pointed to a website for ordering.

When they’d opened the door, a buzzer had sounded. At their footsteps, Jeanie Boswell looked up. She wore her brown hair pulled back into a low ponytail. She had a round face and wide-set eyes and didn’t resemble Drew at all. When she stood, she pursed her thin lips. She was wearing blue jeans and a T-shirt emblazoned with P
OSIES
.

Her scowl almost made her look ferocious. “Your sister did it, didn’t she?”

Caprice was totally taken aback. Glancing at Bella, she saw her sister’s face was reddening, and Caprice knew that happened when Bella got angry.

“Why would you say such a thing?” Bella shot at Jeanie. Bella was always one to give as good as she got. She wasn’t particularly a peacemaker.

Caprice, on the other hand, tried to throw a wet blanket over conflict. Now she jumped in. “Jeanie, we’re sorry about Drew. So sorry. I can’t imagine what it would be like to lose a brother.”

At that Jeanie backed up a step, but her face didn’t show any other expression. She was silent as she crossed her arms over her chest. Ignoring Caprice’s condolences, she said, “I call it as I see it. Your sister had the most to gain from Drew being taken out of the picture. With him gone, she doesn’t have any competition.”

After another quick look at Bella, who appeared ready to pick up one of the flower bouquets and toss it at Jeanie, Caprice decided a little bit of fire of her own might not hurt. “Don’t
you
have something to gain with Drew dead? You’ll be your grandmother’s only heir.”

Now Jeanie’s face pinkened. She blurted out, “I would never—”

Caprice held up her hand as if to try to stop the whole interchange. “Let’s start over,” she suggested. “We didn’t come here to accuse you of anything. I’m trying to figure out what happened to Drew.”

“Someone bashed his skull in,” Jeanie muttered.

“Nikki and I saw that firsthand. We’re trying to figure out who might have had a grudge against him, or something worse. Can you tell us who he hung out with the most?”

Standing and pushing her stool under the counter, Jeanie thought about it. “Drew knew a lot of people, but his best buddies were Larry Penya and Bronson Chronister. Bronson owns that Happy Camper Recreational Vehicle Center.”

It seemed everyone close to Drew knew about Larry and Bronson. “Your grandmother told us Drew was cooking and catering out of Bronson’s kitchen. Do you know anything about that?”

“You should see Bronson’s house,” Jeanie said as if she envied the man. “Drew took me over there once. Bronson’s got a state-of-the-art refrigerator. You know. The walk-in kind?”

Caprice did know, because Nikki had one.

Jeanie went on, “His kitchen is all that stainless steel and black granite, three ovens, with an island in the middle. It was perfect for Drew to work out of. And Bronson isn’t there all that much. He’s either working or traveling.”

“That sounds like a friend helping out a friend. He didn’t charge Drew rent?” Caprice asked.

Jeanie shook her head. “No, those guys are tight . . . or
were
tight. They helped each other whenever they needed it.”

Again Jeanie sounded wistful, as if she wished she had friends like that.

“Did he hang out with anyone else?” Bella asked.

“There was another chef he once worked with and toured restaurants with. You know, if a new place opened up, they’d go and try it. His name is Mario Ruiz.”

The name sounded familiar to Caprice, but she wasn’t sure where she’d heard it.

“They worked together at a high-class hotel in D.C.,” Jeanie continued. “But when the hotel cut staff, both Drew and Mario came back to Kismet. Mario works at a downtown York restaurant now, a little expensive bistro that I can’t afford. He and Drew catch up when they can.”

“I heard a rumor that Drew got into trouble in his teens,” Caprice prompted.

“So you know about the drag racing,” Jeanie commented.

Playing along, Bella said, “Just a little. Drag racing is serious trouble. You know I have a son. If he even thought about doing that, I’d lock him in his room.”

Jeanie gave a wry laugh. “There was no locking Drew up anywhere. He was stubborn and wild. Just ask any of his teachers. But then he seemed to get some sense when he went to chef school. He was different when he came back. I couldn’t believe it when he moved in with Gram after he left D.C.”

“You couldn’t believe Drew would do that, or you couldn’t believe your grandmother would want him to do that?”

“I’d never seen that side of Drew before,” Jeanie confessed. “Gram had broken her arm, was starting to have trouble seeing and getting around. So he said he’d help her out instead of getting a place of his own. He cooked her meals, bought groceries, drove her to doctors’ appointments when he could. I think he was trying hard to do what was right because it didn’t come naturally. Maybe he felt he wasn’t grateful enough for all those years she took care of us. On the other hand, he didn’t have to pay room and board, and he could save whatever he made. I think in the back of his mind, he nursed the idea that he wanted to open up a restaurant someday.”

That was new information. Had Drew changed his mind about that? Maybe he decided to go in a different direction after the barbecue sauce recipe sale?

“You’ve told us about Drew’s friends. Do you know if he had any enemies?” That was an important question in any investigation, Caprice knew.

Jeanie had to think about that. “I don’t know of anybody specifically. But Drew could rub people the wrong way without half trying. I don’t know anything about the staff he hired to help him cater.”

The buzzer on the door sounded, and a couple walked inside. They migrated to the refrigerated cases.

“Be with you in a minute,” Jeanie called to them. Then she asked Caprice, “Are we done?”

“For now,” Caprice said gently. “We really are sorry about Drew.”

“Thank you,” Jeanie mumbled.

“We’d like to buy one of those bouquets of sweetheart roses in the case,” Bella told her. “It’s for Nana. I think the yellow one would be great.”

Jeanie said, “I’ll wrap it up for you.”

Caprice was done asking questions for now. She really had no other choice. Jeanie had given her information to explore, even if she didn’t know about specific enemies Drew might have had. Caprice remembered how nasty he’d been with Nikki. Anyone who could be that nasty had to have enemies.

She just needed to find out who they were.

Chapter Eight

“Your uncle Dom isn’t here,” Nana announced, as she arranged the sweetheart roses in a crystal vase.

Caprice exchanged a look with Bella and her mom. Their mom had joined them at Nana’s for a glass of iced tea and girl talk.

“That’s just an opening gambit so you ask where he is.” Fran’s smile for Nana was affectionate. Caprice knew her mom had come to look on Nana as the mother she’d lost.

Valentine jumped up on the counter to explore the flowers.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” Caprice said, scooping her up and setting her back on the floor. “I have a feeling you’re going to have to put that arrangement someplace she can’t get to it.”

“That will probably be in the pantry closet,” Nana teased.

“I didn’t think of that when we bought them,” Bella said.

“I can keep them in our living room,” Fran suggested. “You can still enjoy them there, but Valentine won’t be tempted.”

Nana nodded. “Good idea.”

Caprice said, “I don’t want to steal your thunder, but I know Uncle Dom is pet sitting. I think it’s terrific.”

Her mother added, “Roberta and her husband had vacation plans and airline tickets when their pet sitter cancelled. When she mentioned it to me, I told her about your uncle.”

Caprice was about to say more, how her uncle was suited for the profession, when her phone played “Let It Be.” Automatically, she took it from her pocket and glanced at the screen.

“It’s Grant. We’ve been playing phone tag. Mind if I take this?”

Nana gave her a sly look. “It doesn’t matter if we mind, does it?” She waved toward her small bedroom. “Why don’t you go in there for some privacy.”

“I won’t be long,” she assured them. To Bella she said, “I know you have to get back home.”

“When Joe takes care of all three at once, he appreciates me more when I get home.”

Caprice had to smile as she headed for Nana’s bedroom, suspecting Bella was right. At one time, Joe had been a very macho and almost removed husband. He’d thought his job was to earn money and Bella’s was to take care of the kids and cook. But Bella’s third pregnancy had caused a crisis in their marriage. Now they were more appreciative of each other and worked as partners. It was good to see.

Valentine scampered after Caprice as she headed toward the bedroom. When Caprice sat on the mauve-and-lilac quilted spread, the kitten jumped up beside her and rubbed against her arm. She petted her soft fur as she answered Grant’s call.

“Hi, there. I got your message that you were tied up in court all day.”

“I’m sorry we couldn’t connect last night either. My client meetings went late.”

That’s what one of Grant’s messages had told her. She’d wondered about it, though, because late didn’t seem to matter with them. They’d talked at midnight some nights. She just wanted to share her excitement about Ace’s concert tickets and VIP passes that would be coming by overnight courier tomorrow.

“You sound tired,” she noted.

There was a long pause, and Caprice didn’t like the vibrations she was getting. She scooped Valentine onto her lap and rubbed the kitten under the chin. Valentine purred.

“About the concert, Caprice,” Grant said. “I can’t go. I have an appointment that day . . . that night.”

That was a funny way to put it. “Can’t your appointment be changed?”

“No, it can’t. I was going to tell you about it as soon as we had a few quiet minutes.”

She kept petting Valentine as wariness stole over her. “Why do we need a few quiet minutes?”

Again he paused as if this was something he didn’t want to tell her. Her heart skipped a beat, and anxiety stole into her stomach.

“Naomi is coming to town. She’ll be here for about a week to ten days, staying at the Purple Iris. I’m going to have dinner with her that night.”

Rarely was Caprice speechless, but she was now. Grant’s ex-wife had moved to Oklahoma after their divorce. Why was she coming here?

“I didn’t really want to talk to you about this over the phone. How about we get together tomorrow evening?”

Caprice heard Grant’s dog, Patches, barking in the background.

Grant said, “Just a minute, boy, and I’ll get you something to eat. He’s been with my neighbor all day,” Grant explained. “Simon does a great job with him, but he missed me. I need to feed him and settle him for the night.”

Was that really what Grant needed to do? Or was he avoiding the conversation they were going to have. And just what would that conversation result in? Their splitting up?

As if Grant could almost read her mind, he said kindly, “Caprice, don’t jump to any conclusions. Please. We’ll talk about this tomorrow night.”

From past experience, Caprice knew Grant compartmentalized. That’s the way he’d handled losing his daughter and losing his marriage. Now she wished they’d talked about all of this over the weeks they’d been dating. Now she wished she knew exactly how he felt. But this was Grant, and she didn’t want to wish him away. Maybe she didn’t have anything to worry about. But that conclusion didn’t ring true.

“I can cook tomorrow night,” she offered. “I modified Nikki’s recipe for beef bourguignon for the Crock-Pot.”

“You’re inventive.”

Small talk wasn’t either of their fortes. “When I have to be,” she joked. “Is around six all right?”

“Around six is fine. I’ll see you then.”

After Caprice murmured “I’ll see you then” and ended the call, she sat and studied her phone for a couple of seconds. She had a knot in her chest that wasn’t going to go away until she and Grant talked.

And maybe not even then.

* * *

“I need your help.”

Caprice had been playing fetch with Lady out in the backyard the following morning when her phone played from her pocket. She’d taken it from her jeans and heard her uncle’s voice. If he needed her help—

“Is it Nana? Mom or Dad?”

“No, no, everyone’s fine. But I’m still house and pet sitting. I have been for the past few days.”

“How’s it going?”

“It’s going fine. It’s like being on vacation, really. I’m calling because you’ve had more experience with animals than I have.”

“I’ve had some. What’s the problem?” She wondered if he was encountering a behavioral issue with the animals he was pet sitting. That wasn’t uncommon when their owners were away.

“There’s a stray cat that’s been coming around every day. She’s a tortoiseshell.”

“Silver or dark?”

“Lots of silver, but gold and white and stripes too. My clients told me about her—that they’d fed her now and then. She’s thin and she looks like she really needs some care. This house is out in the country and there aren’t any close neighbors. So it’s not like I can go checking door-to-door to see if anybody lost her. If I had a place of my own, I’d keep her.”

“Have you talked to your clients about this since you’ve been there?”

“I called them last night. They already have two inside cats and a dog, and they don’t want to take on another animal. But I told them about you, that you’ve taken in strays and found them homes. They said it was okay if I consulted you. What do you think?”

“Can you tell if she’s feral? Does she want any human contact?”

“They haven’t had contact with her. She stays at least twenty feet away until they put the food down and go inside. Then she eats. With me, it’s been a little different. The first evening I saw her in the yard, I put the food down and waited. I just sat on the patio and kept really still. It took her a while, but eventually she came up and ate. I did the same thing each day. Yesterday, she came closer, maybe about three feet away. She looks like she wants contact, but she’s afraid.”

Caprice needed something to keep her from thinking about Grant’s visit tonight. She feared he was going to tell her that they were over before they started. Instead of worrying about that all day, she might as well help her uncle.

“What time did she come around before?”

“She was here around ten yesterday morning, and then again around seven in the evening.”

Caprice checked her watch. It was eight o’clock.

“I’ll come out and we’ll see what we can tell about her from a distance if she won’t get close. Then we can talk about our options. I can be there in about half an hour. Give me the address.”

A half hour later, she drove toward York, taking side roads according to her uncle’s directions. She ended up on a beautiful bucolic property. Alaskan cedars that had to be at least thirty years old flanked one side of the two-story house. The rest of the property was dotted with decades-old silver maples. Pink and white petunias bordered the front gardens while a hanging basket with impatiens in a beautiful fuchsia color dangled from the front porch ceiling.

After Caprice parked, she went up to the porch and her uncle Dom was there, ready to let her inside. A chocolate Lab greeted her too.

“He’s friendly,” her uncle said with a hug for her. “His name’s Loafer because he likes to loaf by the sofa.”

“How old is he?” Caprice asked.

“About eight. They rescued him from a shelter, so they’re not sure. Come on in and I’ll introduce you to Mitzi and Tux. They were rescue kittens too and are brother and sister.”

“I think I like your clients and I haven’t even met them.”

Dom laughed. “They’re good people. I could tell right away. I’ll give Loafer a toy with some treats in it, and we can go out on the patio and sit. How about iced coffee?”

“That sounds great.” She wiggled a Ziploc bag she’d brought with her. “I brought you some of my choco chunks and chips cookies.”

“Now that’s a breakfast my doctor wouldn’t approve of, but I’ll run it off with Loafer later.”

“You’re going to make me feel guilty enough to go for a swim, aren’t you?”

Her uncle laughed. “Come on. If we sit out here long enough, maybe our visitor will arrive.”

On the patio her uncle asked, “Have you made any headway in the Drew Pierson case?”

“You make me sound like a private investigator.”

“Ever think of getting a license?”

“Like I don’t have enough to do. No, if I give up home staging for anything, it will be to run an animal rescue shelter. But that’s not on the horizon right now.”

He pulled two patio chairs close together. “So, any progress on the case? Do you have any suspects?”

Caprice sat, and waited for him to do the same. “Not yet. I do have people I want to question, though. I just have to figure out the best way to do it. Bella and I talked with Drew’s sister. She told us about some of his friends, and I want to talk to them.”

“Did he have many friends?” her uncle asked.

As she related what she had learned about Drew’s friendships, her uncle held up his hand to stop her.

“Over there,” he said. “Under the gnarled redbud. I’ve seen her there before. She uses it like a tent. I think that’s where she takes her naps in the afternoon. She’s completely shaded and surrounded by the leaves and branches that reach to the ground. She must feel safe there.”

Caprice watched as the silver-haired tortie snuck under one side of the bush and the leaves jiggled. The branches swished a little, and then she came out on the other side where she could see them.

“Do you mind if I talk to her?” Caprice asked.

“Go ahead. I’ve mostly been just sitting here like a statue, afraid I’d scare her away.”

“I might scare her, but let’s see.” She lowered her voice. “Hey, pretty girl. Are you hungry? We have some food for you.”

Caprice had made up a dish of cat food, and now she stood and took it over to the edge of the patio. The tortie retreated under the redbud bush but didn’t run off.

Caprice kept talking. “We just want to see how you are, and if you need somebody to take care of you. Do you think you’d like that?”

“Somebody else who talks to animals as if they’re human. At least I don’t feel so crazy,” her uncle muttered.

“I’m going to let you eat, and I’m going to go back over to that chair and sit. Okay? You can come over. It will be all right.”

Caprice went back over to the chair and sat down beside her uncle. She kept talking. “It’s okay, baby. Come on. Get some breakfast.”

After a few minutes, when the cat saw that the coast was clear around the dish, she came out from under the bush and unevenly walked toward the food. She kept her eyes on Caprice and Dom, though.

Caprice murmured to her uncle, “I think she’s limping a little.

“Back right leg. I’ve noticed it too. It’s one of the reasons I called you.”

As the feline ate, Caprice took her camera from her pocket and zoomed in to examine her. The cat was thin, yet rounded a little at the belly. Bloating, or something more? Her green eyes looked clear, not at all weepy.

The tortie suddenly stopped eating, sat back, and scratched at her neck.

Caprice suspected she had fleas. She needed good nutrition and maybe a flea treatment to get healthy again.

After the cat finished eating, she sat on the corner of the patio in the sun, washing herself. She cast wary glances at Caprice and her uncle Dominic every once in a while, but seemed more relaxed than afraid.

“I’m going to try to approach her,” Caprice said. “I really don’t want to use a trap cage unless we have to.”

Caprice approached the cat until she was about three feet away. She sat down on the patio on the same level. The tortie eyed her but didn’t run. She lowered herself, facing Caprice, her paws tucked under her.

“You’re not afraid of people, are you? What happened? Did you get lost?”

And so it went. Caprice spent about half an hour just sitting there, talking to the cat, letting the tortie eye her and get used to her. She knew she’d be taking a risk if she tried to pick up the animal. Cat scratches and bites were nothing to fool around with.

Suddenly the cat stood, looked around, finished a few scraps on the dish, and then went to the bush and hid underneath.