Deadly Décor (A Caprice De Luca Mystery) (12 page)

Caprice recognized Melinda Barnhart, the director of the community center.

“I was talking to Melinda this morning before church,” her mom explained. “She told me that Bob was excited about a new project he was involved in, some kind of smartphone app.”

It seemed funny to hear those words roll off her mom’s tongue, but more and more people her age were becoming tech-savvy. As a teacher working with teens, her mother prided herself on knowing the latest lingo.

After Caprice and Melinda exchanged a greeting, Fran directed Melinda, “Tell Caprice what you were telling me.”

Melinda glanced around to see if anyone else was listening. “Bob told me to keep the news under my hat, but now that he’s dead . . . It’s such a shame. He was such a friendly young man. He related so well to the kids.”

“So you and Bob were close?” Caprice asked, unsure where this was headed.

Melinda thought about it.

“Not close as in good friends. But . . . he lost his mother when he was a teenager. When we were working with the kids, he talked to me about that a couple of times, explaining how he understood where they were coming from, especially the sullen and alienated ones. Apparently he’d gone through a stage like that himself. So I guess in some ways, though I hate to say it because it makes me feel old, he looked on me as a mother figure. He often asked my advice when working with the teens and ran ideas by me before the board meetings.”

“I see,” Caprice said, and she did. She didn’t know what she’d do without her parents. If she didn’t have them, she’d always be trying to fill the void. Maybe Bob had done that too.

Her mother seemed to know what her daughter was thinking because she squeezed Caprice’s arm as if to say,
I’m always going to be around, one way or another
.

Melinda saw the gesture and smiled approvingly. She went on, “Anyway, Bob told me about this phone app he’d invented. Apparently it was going to be hooked to sales in a chain of home-improvement stores. You could go to the app and take a picture of a color you’d like to see in a paint. The color of that object would be digitally matched and transferred to the store for paint preparation. He’d confided he’d be receiving a tidy sum for the deal.”

After Caprice thought about that for a moment, she asked, “Did he say what he was going to do with the money?”

“No, he didn’t. But he was excited and more than a little happy about it. Who wouldn’t be? He gave the impression it could fund anybody’s retirement, but he didn’t say specifically that’s what he was going to do.”

“Did he mention if anyone else knew about it?”

“No. And because he asked me to keep it a secret, I assumed nobody did.”

That was an assumption Caprice couldn’t make. A tidy sum from a phone app could be another motive for murder. Just who would gain from it? Who would have gained from it if Bob died?

Those were questions Caprice was going to find the answers to.

It was almost nine o’clock that night when Caprice’s doorbell rang. Sophia was sprawled across her lap as she stretched out on the sofa, reading through a few articles she’d printed out about the latest trends and decorating innovations. Shasta lay on the floor beside her, and every once in a while, Caprice dropped her hand and petted her head, thinking about the log home’s open house and how well it had gone. Denise was pretty sure an offer would come in tomorrow.

Shasta seemed to be on alert moments before the doorbell rang. Sophia, on the other hand, complained with a loud meow when Caprice nudged her up so she could answer the door. She switched on the porch light and peered through one of the four small glass windows set into the door. She couldn’t have been more surprised. Grant stood there.

When she opened the door, he didn’t smile a “hello.” He simply said, “I’m concerned about Joe and Bella. Can we talk?”

She might have expected this visit from Vince, not from Grant.

“Sure, come on in. Has something happened?”

“Not specifically.”

He stooped over and patted Shasta, who was already rubbing her head against his leg. Grant wore a chambray shirt with the collar open and his sleeves rolled up. His jeans appeared to have seen many washings.

“What does ‘not specifically’ mean?”

He didn’t answer her. He didn’t give Shasta another pat. He did ask, “When is she due?”

“My vet says probably a few weeks.”

“How many pups will she have?”

“She could have five or six.”

“If you don’t find her owner, do you think you can find homes for all of them?”

“I
will
find homes for all of them, though I might keep one.”

“And Shasta?”

“Well, of course and Shasta. I’m still hoping her owner might see one of the flyers I made and pinned on bulletin boards in grocery stores and places like that. I also placed a notice again in the community paper.”

“But you’ll keep her if you can’t find where she belongs.”

“We’ve already formed a little family here. No, Sophia’s not really happy about it, but she’ll adjust. Pets aren’t really that different from people. It just takes time. Would you like something to drink?”

“Actually, I would. The temperature out there isn’t dropping much.”

“I’ve got fresh-squeezed lemonade or iced herbal peach tea.”

“Lemonade.”

“Oh, and I made blueberry bread. Would you like a slice of that?”

“Sounds good.”

As she led Grant through the dining room into the kitchen, she wondered if Seth was eating
his
blueberry bread. It seemed a little odd that she was giving it to both men right now. Not really odd. A coincidence.

She shook off any thoughts of comparing the two men. There were no comparisons to make. Grant was here on business. Mostly business.

After she filled the lime green and fuchsia-striped glasses with ice and poured the lemonade, she placed one in front of Grant on the table.

He took a few swallows. “This is great, thanks. It tastes like my mom’s.”

“Is that good?”

“It brings back memories of when I was a kid.”

He didn’t talk much about anything personal, so she waited, seeing if he’d open up more. Taking the blueberry bread from the refrigerator, she cut off two slices, put them on a napkin, and set them in the microwave.

“It’s better warmed up. It will go great with the lemonade. Trust me.”

He gave a shrug, and thirty seconds later, she placed a slice in front of him.

“One thing I don’t understand about you,” Grant said seriously, as if she were a terrifically complicated puzzle, “and there are a lot of things . . . is how you can take an animal in and then give it away. I mean I saw you give up those kittens. That was hard for you. Certainly you’re going to get attached to Shasta’s pups. Then you’ll have to give them away. Doesn’t that sense of loss do something to you?”

She wondered exactly what he was getting at. Maybe not
her
sense of loss as much as his.

“What you’re really asking me is do I get over it. Not exactly. But knowing the animals I’ve placed in good homes are happy is the important thing for me, not what I feel when I let them go. And I tell myself, I have to let them go.”

“You can tell yourself that over and over again, and still not believe it. Not where it counts.”

He sounded almost resentful about that fact. Was he thinking about his ex-wife . . . his daughter?

Before she stopped herself, she asked, “Do you ever see your ex-wife?”

“I didn’t mean to get into that kind of conversation,” he muttered.

When she remained quiet, he took a few more swallows of lemonade, then he said, “No, I don’t see her.”

But did he still have feelings for her? Caprice had been involved with a divorced man, and she’d gotten burned badly. She’d fallen in love not only with him, but also with his child. When he’d returned to his wife, both relationships had fallen apart.

Maybe Grant hadn’t really let go. Maybe that bond of losing a child would always tether him to his ex-wife.

He stared down at the blueberry bread and the way the blueberries had puffed in the oven, spreading their sweet goodness throughout the bread. When the bread was warm, the blueberries tasted even better, and so did the pecans. He tore off a corner of the bread and popped it into his mouth, maybe hoping to end the conversation.

He chewed and then smiled. “You do know how to bake.”

“I was taught by the best. Nana and Mom also taught us that no matter what happens, we can be stronger and do better because of it.”

He leaned back in his chair, and his expression didn’t become grim, as she thought it might. It became almost amused. “Are you giving me a lecture?”

“Would it do any good if I was?”

“Probably not.”

“So are you going to tell me why you’re concerned about Bella and Joe?”

“I can’t explain specifics, but I can tell you I’ve heard rumors. There’s talk about an arrest warrant.”

“Do they think they’ve found evidence from what they’ve collected?”

“That’s possible.”

“Which one’s in more danger?”

“I can’t really say.”

“No, you can’t say. But Joe’s your client, so Joe has to be the person of most interest.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Oh, Grant, quit it. You don’t have to be secretive with me. If Bella had the problem, Vince would have already talked to me.”

“I looked into Kent Osgood,” Grant said. “He is what he seems. He’s from Allentown. He lived there all his life. He took vocational courses in high school, and when he got out, he started apprenticing on a paint crew. He worked in a home-improvement store for a while, but then decided he liked to paint.”

“Why did he come to Kismet?”

Grant shrugged. “He never knew his dad. His mom died with complications from lupus a couple of years ago. He wandered a bit, but he came here because he said he liked the looks of the town online. He figured people here valued good work, and he knew he was a good painter. Bob hired him on, and the rest is history.”

“What about Danny Flannery? Did you talk to him?”

“If you can call what he and I did talking. He’s a teenager. I couldn’t engage him in chitchat or conversation about Bob. He clammed up tight.”

“So what’s the bottom line?” Caprice asked. “Why did you come over?”

He looked her squarely in the eyes, hesitated a few minutes, then finally revealed, “The murder weapon was a ball-peen hammer. Can you imagine Bella swinging one of those? I’m hearing that Joe is the one without an alibi. He also had a strong motive and the opportunity. So I’m here to tell you, we could be in this for the long haul. Joe could be arrested, and I want you to be prepared.”

How could she ever prepare for a member of her family being charged with murder?

Some nights Caprice just grabbed a quick supper, which meant thawing a wedge of lasagna she’d frozen and mixing up a salad, or grabbing a container of White Rose Dairy strawberry yogurt from the refrigerator and sitting at her desk with it while she worked. Healthier than ice cream, right?

Sophia definitely agreed. Shasta thought anything Caprice ate was a treat for her too.

After a peek into the fridge on Monday evening, Caprice grabbed an egg and a dish of steamed broccoli. All right, she’d eat healthy. Well, sort of healthy. A frocia would be perfect. Her dad liked it made with asparagus, but Caprice wasn’t picky.

As she whipped the egg with a fork, she thought about the top suspects for Bob’s murder. There was Jackie, Bob’s girlfriend. There was Danny, an angry teenager. Possibly Kent, who had recently become Bob’s partner, but that wasn’t common knowledge. Why? Because it had happened recently, or for some other reason? Then she considered Joe. She just couldn’t believe her own brother-in-law was capable of murder.

When Caprice had whipped the egg into a froth of foam—she wielded a wicked fork—she set the small bowl on the counter. She was rummaging in the cupboard for a cast-iron pan when her cell phone played its Beatles’ tune.

Shasta barked, a new habit that was supposed to alert Caprice to the call . . . or else Shasta was a connoisseur of Beatles’ music.

With the frying pan in one hand, she picked up her phone from the counter with the other. It was Bella.

“How are you?” Caprice asked.

“I need you. Can you come to the urgent care center? Mom’s phone is going to voice mail, and Joe isn’t answering either.”

“Take a breath and tell me what’s going on.”

“It’s Timmy. He got hurt playing baseball. Seth sent him to X-ray, and he’s trying to schedule us an appointment with an orthopedic doctor.”

So Seth was on duty this evening. She pushed their last conversation out of her head, as she’d been doing ever since he’d told her he might be leaving Kismet. Her heart was heavy with the idea just when she’d been feeling so hopeful.

Timmy. Her focus should be on Timmy. “I’ll be right there.”

She didn’t know what else to say. Bella had experienced her share of stress lately, that was for sure.

Five minutes later, she’d warned Shasta and Sophia to behave as she locked the door and headed for her Camaro, no worse for the wear after being impounded.

This time of day, the Kismet urgent care center was parked up and busy. The center needed two doctors on a shift at a time, but Seth had admitted they didn’t allot funds for two. Is that why he was considering taking a fellowship? Because the job here was too hectic?

The scene inside the waiting room was controlled chaos. Every seat was taken. Three patients were lined up at the registration window. How was she going to get back to Bella and Timmy?

Bella must have understood the situation and known when to expect Caprice because she popped out of the doorway that led back to the exam rooms and motioned for Caprice to come with her.

Caprice rushed over without hesitating. “Where’s Timmy?”

“He’s back here with the nurse. Seth is going to put a temporary cast on his arm. It’s a madhouse today. Of all days . . . I could have taken him to York Hospital, but I knew this would be faster. Maybe I should have gone there. I couldn’t get hold of Joe.”

Bella was working herself into a state, and she had every right to. But soon she’d be crossing the line into tears, and Caprice knew Bella would hate breaking down here. So she wrapped her in a hug right there in the middle of the hall. De Lucas believed hugs were almost as good as food.

A nurse flew by. Loud voices sounded from another cubicle, but Caprice paid them no mind.

Finally Bella pushed away. “I’m all right, really I am. I have to be. The kids need me. Come on, Timmy will be glad to see you. I’m probably making him more scared than he already is.”

When they reached the cubicle, Seth was there. He’d encased Timmy’s arm in a plastic cast. “There’s your mom now. I told you she wouldn’t desert you. It looks as if she brought reinforcements.”

His gaze met Caprice’s, and Caprice knew from the bottom of her Capezios she didn’t want him to leave Kismet. But she might not have any say about that. She would, however, have some say over what would happen if he did leave, and what she’d do about it.

Caprice went over to Timmy and smoothed his hair from his brow. “Hey there, big guy, what happened?”

She could see the lines of tears on his cheeks, and his uniform was streaked with dirt.

“I slid into third base. I stole it, but my arm bent under me in a bad way.”

“It could happen to anybody stealing a base,” Caprice told him seriously. “Does it hurt?”

He looked her straight in the eye and then said what his dad would probably have said. “Not much.”

However, she could tell that wasn’t true. He was pale, and having X-rays taken for something that hurt was no fun.

Seth turned to Bella. “I need your permission to talk to you about Timmy with Caprice here.”

“Of course, you have it. She’s my emergency number, along with my husband.”

Seth nodded.

But a nurse came to the door. “Dr. Randolph, I need you in room two.”

“Is blood involved?” he asked.

“No, just an impatient gentleman.”

“Then I need five minutes. Stall him. Give him a bottle of water or something.”

Five minutes. How he must hate going from patient to patient like this, not giving them the time he felt they needed. Was this what all of medicine was becoming? Maybe so.

Seth took a tablet from a drawer and found a pen on the counter.

He explained, “Fortunately, from what the X-rays show, I think Timmy just has a greenstick fracture. That means the bone isn’t broken the whole way through. But I’m not an orthopedic doc.” He drew a picture on the tablet of the kind of fracture Timmy had. After he asked Bella if she understood and she said she did, he addressed Caprice. “Are you going to stay with her, maybe drive her home?”

“I can drive,” Bella protested.

But Caprice understood what Seth was saying. Bella was worried about Timmy. Since she was concerned about him and everything else that was going on, she might not have her mind on what she was doing.

“I’ll drive her home,” she assured him. “Nikki can bring me back for my car later.”

From the counter, Seth took a sheaf of papers that were stapled together. On the top, Caprice could see a business card. He handed the papers to Bella.

“I need you to sign down at the bottom that you understand everything I told you. Do you have any more questions?”

“No. I just want to get him home.”

“I know that. But his arm has to be properly taken care of. You don’t want it healing the wrong way. The card on top belongs to the doctor I called. His practice is in York, and he’ll fit you in tomorrow. This appointment isn’t with a P.A., but with him. It’s clinic day there, and everybody will be lined up on gurneys in a long room, but he’s good, Bella. He’ll study those X-rays, and he might ask for more. He’ll make sure Timmy gets the best care.”

“Oh, Seth, thank you.”

“No thanks necessary. It’s my job.” He tapped Timmy on the head. “I just want to see you back out on that field, reaching for those fly balls, swinging at the good ones.”

“But I won’t be able to play,” Timmy complained.

“Probably not this season. But next season should be great.” He helped Timmy down from the table and said to Bella, “I’ve given you a prescription there for pain medication. Follow the directions exactly. If he says he doesn’t want it, watch him, because if the pain gets too out of hand, and then you give it to him, his discomfort will take a lot longer to settle down. For tonight, use it as directed, and tomorrow talk to the orthopedic doctor about it. Got it?”

Just then, Caprice heard a voice she recognized in the hall. Joe Santini had arrived, and he wasn’t as quiet as he’d been at their last Sunday dinner. He was full of spurting energy, and growling stress.

“Where are they?” she heard him ask.

“Come right this way,” one of the staff informed him. Soon there he was, in the cubicle with them all, face-to-face with Bella. Caprice had never seen him look exactly like that before—over-the-top anxious, ready to break down.

“Is he all right? What are we going to do? Does he have to go to the hospital?”

Although Caprice knew Seth felt pressured by waiting patients to move on, he didn’t rush. He stood there and told Joe everything he’d explained to Bella.

“Take him home and try to make him forget about it for tonight.”

Joe and Bella exchanged a look, and Caprice wasn’t sure what it meant.

Then Joe went to Timmy. “I’m sorry I wasn’t at your game, Bud. I know I haven’t been around much lately. That’s going to change.”

Seth pointed to the paperwork. “Just take that with you, and you can leave. But if you want to talk, just stay right here.”

Then Seth was gone, moving on, the way doctors did.

Joe looked at Bella, really looked at Bella, maybe for the first time in weeks. The perfectly coifed, manicured, and made-up Bella was nowhere in sight, and hadn’t been for a while.

“I can leave, too,” Caprice said.

But Joe protested. “No need. You might as well know where I’ve been too. You can tell your parents, Nikki, Vince, and anybody else who wants to know. I’ve been talking with Father Gregory at Saint Francis. I’ve always respected him. When I was in high school, he kept me on the straight and narrow.”

Joe turned to his wife. “I didn’t just meet up with him by chance. I had an appointment with him. That’s why I had my phone turned off. I wasn’t trying to avoid you. I just needed some privacy while he and I talked.”

Bella’s voice was shaky when she asked, “What did you talk about?”

“I talked about us. Not the murder. Not Bob. But us. He wants to have a session with both of us. He thinks he can help.”

When Caprice thought about Father Gregory, she thought about a short, rotund man with kind brown eyes and a practically bald head. Could he possibly put Joe and Bella’s marriage back together again? No, but maybe they could. Maybe it wasn’t too late. Maybe it wasn’t too far gone. Just the fact that Joe was bringing this to Bella meant so much.

Joe took Bella’s hand—the first sign of affection she’d seen between them since this whole thing had blown up. “Will you come with me on Wednesday? He’s free at two.”

“But you have to work.”

“I have vacation time coming. This isn’t the busiest time of the year. I might have to take off an afternoon once a week for a while. That’s what Father’s suggesting. Will you make the time, too?”

Now Caprice felt that she shouldn’t be here. If Bella and Joe had issues to work out, they needed to do it with the priest. Or in privacy. Hovering family could hinder the whole process.

Still beside Timmy, Caprice dropped her arm around his shoulders. “How about you and I go out to the front and wait. It’ll only be a couple of minutes.”

“Can I go home in your car, Aunt Caprice? It’s cool.”

“I’ll be glad to drop you off at home, if your parents want me to.”

Joe came over to Timmy and gave him a hug. “I know that son-of-a-gun has to hurt, but you think it will hurt a little bit less if you ride in Aunt Caprice’s rad car?”

Timmy smiled, the first smile Caprice had seen since she’d come in. “It might help,” he agreed.

Joe chuckled. “All right. You go with Aunt Caprice, and I’ll drive your mom. I’ll walk back here later tonight and get her car. For now, I’ll settle up at the desk and meet you outside.”

It looked as if Joe was taking charge again, doing what he thought was best for his family, protecting all of them in his way. Maybe he and Bella could put things back together with a little guidance.

As Joe spoke to the receptionist who took care of checking out patients, Timmy wandered over to the window to stare outside at Caprice’s yellow Camaro.

Bella touched Caprice’s arm.

Her sister looked worn-out and a little shell-shocked, as if her world had suddenly taken a ninety-degree turn and she wasn’t quite ready for it. It had been doing a lot of that lately. “I’m scared,” she almost whispered.

“Of Joe?”

“No, of what’s happened to us. What if we can’t fix it?”

“If you can’t fix it, you’ll find the next best thing to do. Father Gregory can help.”

“You really believe that?”

“I do. You know how he used to come over for dinner, and then stay long after we all went to bed?”

“Yes, I do.”

“If you think about it, he was there the most when Mom and Dad were having skirmishes with Vince about school. I think he was unofficially counseling them on what to do.” She hoped Joe and Bella could resolve whatever problems they were having so they could welcome Timmy’s brother or sister with open arms . . . so they’d be a happy family again.

She caught a glimpse of Seth as he came to the front desk to speak with the receptionist.

And her and Seth? Only time would tell what was going to happen there. Seth was obviously too busy to spend even two minutes with her tonight. That was just as well because she had a presentation to prepare. It wasn’t an official presentation, but an informal one. A builder of midrange model homes, a man who had introduced himself as Derrick Gastenaux, had expressed interest in her services. She was going to inspect those homes tomorrow and hope they could come to an agreement. So tonight she’d be thinking about bare drywall and hardwood floors, and houses families wanted turned into homes.

She just hoped the Santini home would be peaceful once more.

The following morning, Caprice didn’t know when she was aware of the feeling that she was being watched. She just knew at some point that she was. She had errands to run before she was supposed to meet Derrick Gastenaux at the model home site. Her calendar reminded her she had a client meeting in York at nine, and she intended to stop at the rental company on the way back to Kismet. She had a few more items to choose for the Sumpter estate open house. Fortunately, she found them at the rental company’s warehouse. A checkerboard alpaca rug along with an old-world chest would fit in with the Wild Kingdom theme beautifully.