The social hall adjacent to the fire company was a bevy of activity on Saturday morning. Caprice had taken Lady home, settled her with her Kong toy, her kibble ball, and her favorite chewing ring in the kitchen, then texted Nikki she was on her way.
As she walked into the social hall and greeted people she knew, she saw Nikki on a stepladder, adding yet one more glittering heart mobile to a ceiling light. But then Caprice's attention focused elsewhere. At a long table, Grant was sorting canned goods and loading the food into boxes.
Descending the stepladder, Nikki said, “He's been at it since seven
A.M.
He knows how to work for a cause. Do you think he left Patches alone?”
“His divorced neighbor's probably watching him,” Caprice muttered.
Nikki gave her an odd look. “You said you didn't care.”
“Yes, I did, didn't I?” Caprice sighed, not knowing exactly what she felt for Grant or what he felt for her. She certainly wasn't going to hold him up in conversation, not when there was work to be done.
“You know, Mom wasn't sure she wanted to come to the dance tonight,” Nikki informed Caprice.
“She didn't tell me that. Because of Louise?”
“They were such good friends, she doesn't feel like she should go out and have a good time so soon after her death, I guess.”
“What did you tell her?”
“I told her to go sort clothes this morning with Nana at the church, and she'd feel a lot better when she knew those clothes were going to needy families. Then she should think about her and Dad and how much they love each other, and they should come together tonight. No guilt. But I don't know if she's going to listen to me. You could call her and reinforce the idea.”
“I will. After lunch. I imagine she and Nana should be done by around two.”
“That all depends on how many people donated clothing. But for right nowâ” Nikki nodded to one of the tables where their dad was standing with a laptop computer. He was motioning to Caprice.
“Uh oh, Dad and the computer aren't getting along again,” Nikki guessed.
Caprice smiled. Now that her dad was in his masonry company's office rather than in the field, he had to deal with his own computer more than he intended to. However, he wasn't tech savvy. He knew the programs he had to use for his business and he didn't want to learn more than that. Today he was dealing with lists on one of the volunteer's computers, and apparently there was a problem.
“I'm going to work on table decorations next,” Nikki said, “but then I've got to scoot. Drew and I have a lot to get ready for tonight.”
“So Drew's helping?”
“We'll see how it goes. You'd better get to Dad before he crashes the whole computer.”
Caprice tried not to smile as she crossed to her father and asked helpfully, “A problem?”
“Computers are the problem,” he growled. “I would have been happier if all this stuff was on a legal pad. I can't find the right screen.” He leaned a little closer to her. “But you're the only one I'll tell that to.”
She laughed. “There's no shame in asking for help.”
“If that isn't the pot calling the kettle black. If you weren't so independent, you'd be engaged by now.”
Usually she got this kind of advice from her mother, not from her father. Maybe Valentine's Day had put him in a think-about-your-kids-and-their-happiness kind of mood.
“And what makes you think I want to be engaged?”
“You avoided Grant when you came in. That tells me something.”
“Yes, I avoided him. He's busy.”
Her dad guffawed. “Yeah, right. Busy. You two have been dancing around each other since Vince was in law school. Too bad Grant married and cut himself out of circulation. Too badâ”
Her father shook his head. Then he glanced up at the hearts that Nikki had just attached to the ceiling, and all the other mobiles hanging along with the red and silver sparkling decorations.
“Your mother and I have been coming here to the Valentine's Day dance for years. It was the one night of the year we would get a babysitter even if we couldn't afford it. Nana Celia and Gramps used to come, too.”
“Valentine's Day always seemed special to you and Mom.”
“It was. It is. It's the holiday for lovers. But since you're already blushing, I won't go there.”
Thank goodness!
Caprice thought, but didn't say it.
Her father chuckled. “Your mom and I always see friends and relatives here. That's something that cements a relationshipâother people seeing your marriage grow and change, witnessing that the vows you made are going to last. You get my drift?”
“Sort of like Big Brother watching?”
“Now, Caprice, when did you get so cynical?” her father asked with arched brows.
“I'm not cynical. I just don't think we always know what's inside a marriage, even if we know the people on the outside.” Her father was one person she could talk to about this. “You know, I didn't want to ask Mom about Louise and Chet's marriage. Were there any problems there?”
When her father didn't speak right away, she saw he looked troubled. “Few couples have a marriage like me and your mom do,” he reminded her. “And kids can really bind a couple together. Chet once told me Louise couldn't have children. He never said more than that.”
Caprice wondered if Louise's heart condition had something to do with that.
“Besides that, though,” her dad went on, “I know Louise didn't always come first for Chet. His company and his recreational life did. Spring, summer, and fall he played golf. In the winter he skied. Louise wasn't particularly fond of trekking over the golf courses more than once a week so he played with colleagues and friends.”
“And her heart condition could be triggered by cold weather,” Caprice added thoughtfully. “So she didn't go skiing either.”
When Caprice envisioned Chet and Malina at the funeral home, she had a good guess about just who he might have gone skiing with. “Are you insinuating that Chet had affairs?”
“No, I'm not. I know nothing about that, and that's the truth. Men aren't often as forthcoming with each other as women are.”
Grant passed by them as he carried a carton filled with canned goods to the loading dock.
She asked her dad, “Has Grant ever been forthcoming with you? Has he ever told you details about his marriage, or exactly what happened with his daughter?”
Her father appeared surprised by her question. “Why would you think he would?”
“Because I don't know how close he is to his own parents, and they're living in Vermont. He comes to our family dinners with Vince, and I thought he might look on you as a second dad. You can get anybody to talk about anything.”
“I'll take that as a compliment. But no, Grant's never talked to me about any of that. That doesn't mean he won't talk to
you
.”
Caprice just pursed her lips.
“Do you remember the story about how your mom and I fell in love?” her dad asked.
“Of course, I do. She was home from college for the summer, picking flowers in her mom's garden. She looked up at the roof and there you were, fixing the flashing around the chimney. You were shirtless, your hair was blowing in the wind, and she said it was love at first sight.”
This time her dad laughed. “Maybe attraction at first sight,” he admitted. “But the last part . . . Honey, we were as different as night and day. She was college-educated and becoming a teacher. I was just someone who knew how to handle bricks. I'd grown up with two brothers and a sister, and she'd been an only child. Our interests were as different as football and arranging flowers.”
“But you fell in love.”
“We did, in spite of all those other differences. We found that we thought alike. Our values were the same. We even had the same dreams. That's what mattered. You and Grant . . . You might be in different places now. A man needs time to put the past really behind him. But I don't think you should count him out.”
Should
she count him out? Maybe that depended on what happened when they attended the dance together tonight . . . well, not really together. Would he even talk to her? Or ignore her then, too?
She tapped her dad's computer. “Tell me what screen you need to get back to.”
“You're changing the subject.”
“What screen, Dad?”
“The one with the list of delivery drop-off points.”
Caprice checked out the program for a minute, tapped a few keys, and found the screen her dad was looking for.
Navigating a computer was much easier than navigating a man's mind.
Chapter Thirteen
At eight
P.M.
Caprice walked into the fire company's social hall and thought the whole town seemed to have turned out for the Valentine's Day dance. Maybe that was an exaggeration, but not by much.
She'd borrowed a black velvet cape from her mother with faux fur around the neck and the sleeves. It was elegant, and beautifully complemented her forties-style dress. All she was missing was a muff. She'd even done something different with her hair tonight. Well, the stylist at Roz's beauty salon had. He'd wound her hair into a one-sided bun that looked stylishly vintage, even with her fluffed and waved bangs. He'd let a few stray tendrils wisp out for a modern version of the hairstyle.
Nikki waved to her from the table where the buffet was set up.
Caprice discarded her cape, hanging it on a coat rack in the reception area. Then she took her faux pearl beaded purse that was barely big enough for her phone, and headed Nikki's way. Her sister's slow smile told her she'd made the right fashion choices tonight.
In fact, Nikki asked, “Who
is
this woman? I don't recognize her.” She tilted her head. “Except I think I recognize those brown eyes, that wide mouth, that long neck. That must be my sister.” Then she leaned in and gave her a hug. “You're looking absolutely fabulous.”
“I can't tell how
you
look under the apron.”
“The apron will go once Drew and I have everything set up for the servers.”
Speaking of that particular man, he came in the back door, carrying another silver chafing dish, and set it on the table. He was wearing slim black slacks and a black shirt with a bolo tie.
“He looks good in that outfit,” Caprice noted in a low voice.
Nikki gave a little sigh. “Yeah, he does look good, doesn't he?”
“Uh oh, chemistry as well as cooking expertise?”
Nikki gnawed on her lower lip. “I'm not sure. We'll see how this goes tonight. We're trying out a working arrangement. For now, I'll pay him a salary. He's willing to work for me until we both decide if we want to be partners.”
Drew crossed to them and said hello to Caprice. With a hiked-up brow, he said, “I'm on trial tonight. But I don't think Nikki's sure she
wants
a partner. She's not sure she wants to give up control.”
“I can give up control,” Nikki protested. “I grew up with a domineering brother, and a younger sister who had all the answers.”
Drew stared at Caprice.
“No, not her,” Nikki was quick to explain. “My other sister, Bella. Caprice and I . . .” She shrugged. “I guess the two of us were always like partners.”
“So I have to fill
her
shoes.”
He looked down at Caprice's shoes, which were fuchsia and high-heeled with an ankle strap, and she was suddenly glad she was wearing them. If they made Drew take a second look, would they make Grant take a second look?
“I simply need the
right
partner,” Nikki insisted.
“You need a partner who can help you set your limits,” Drew offered with confidence. “You cook wonderful food, Nikki, but you shouldn't have to add every sprig of parsley yourself, or taste every piece of sautéed onion. Know what I mean?”
Nikki nodded. “I'm beginning to. Just look at these scallops in cream sauce that you made, and the sweet and sour pork. It's perfect.”
“We work together well,” he murmured, gazing into her eyes.
There definitely might be more than chef and sous chef going on here, Caprice thought. She knew chemistry when she saw it. But then again, maybe the hearts dangling overhead and the Valentine's Day mood tonight had turned her into a matchmaker.
Knowing Nikki had food to set up with Drew, Caprice smiled. “I'll see the two of you later.”
As she glanced around to find the table where Vince and Roz were sitting, Denise Langford, the luxury property real estate agent, approached her. Denise was all prettied up tonight, too. Her hair bounced in tighter waves. Her slim figure was accented by one of those little black dresses that Caprice could never seem to find.
Denise said, “I was going to call you tomorrow. Then . . .” She waved her hand over the way Caprice was dressed. “Who could miss that gorgeous color?”
Caprice wasn't sure if that was a subtle dig or not. Trying to stay on the optimistic side of life, she decided Denise's comment was a compliment. “Thank you. Why were you going to call?”
“Chet Downing is going to sell his house, but . . . He's postponing his own house-hunting because he's taking a prolonged trip to Europe in a few weeks.”
“Europe? I know Louise wanted to travel to Italy after he was retired, but I didn't think they'd planned anything yet.”
“I get the feeling he just wants to get away.”
“Are the police going to let him do that?”
“I think that's why he's waiting a few weeks. Maybe he thinks they'll solve his wife's murder in that amount of time.”
That was naïve thinking. “I don't believe Louise had planned to take a trip yet. She'd been looking forward to finding a smaller place and moving in. I don't suppose he mentioned whether he's traveling alone?”
Denise's eyes widened. “Caprice!”
“I'm not suggesting anything. I'm just wondering. Maybe this is part business. Maybe since he's selling The Pretzel Party, he's going to start another business. I just wonder if he'd confided any of that in you.”
“No, he didn't. You're the one who was the friend of the Downings.”
“I spent most of my time with Louise. Even when I was a kid, Chet would take business calls during dinner, sometimes skip dinner with us altogether because he had meetings. I don't think his life was all about The Pretzel Party. He had his hand in investments and wheeling and dealing. I just hopeâ”
“What do you hope?” Denise asked curiously.
Caprice had been about to say that she hoped Chet and Louise's marriage had been all about hearts and flowers and lace, but she wasn't sure it had been. Still, she shouldn't voice those thoughts to Denise.
“I just hope the police find the murderer sooner rather than later.”
“You and me both. It's hard to believe there's a murderer running around free in Kismet. Well, I'd better get to my table. I wouldn't want anyone to give my seat away.”
Caprice was lost in thought for a few moments, thinking about Chet and his trip, thinking about Chet and the argument she'd overheard between him and Louise. How important had that argument been? Had it been ongoing? Had there been others?
This time when Caprice scanned the room, she saw Roz standing up and waving at her. She spotted her mom and dad seated at the same table. And then she spied . . .
Grant was seated across the table from Roz and Vince. Was she supposed to sit next to him?
Caprice was suddenly very self-conscious with her new hairdo. She touched it now. For good luck, she'd worn Nana's tortoiseshell seed-pearl comb, as well as the pearls her dad had given her when she graduated from high school. Double pearls dangled on her earlobes. The dress itself fit as well now as it had the first time she'd tried it on. She thought she'd been mistaken. She thought nothing could look that good on her. But it did. It cinched her waist and accented her breasts, and even made her hips look flattering. The satiny material swished a little when she walked. Walking wasn't the easiest thing in the world in the high-heeled shoes. When she'd slipped her feet into them, she somehow felt like Dorothy from
The Wizard of Oz
. All she had to do was click her heels together and she'd be home. That idea brought a smile to her lips. She shifted her purse from one hand to the other.
Caprice suddenly felt shy as well as self-conscious as she made her way toward Grant. As soon as she reached the table, her mom and dad grinned at her. Earlier, before her hair appointment, she'd given her mom the manicure gift certificate in a Valentine's Day card. Her mom had gotten teary-eyed and told her Vince had stopped in with a box of chocolate truffles. She was especially grateful for her children at a time like this. Her mom was leaning close to her husband and appeared glad to be here.
Grant cleared his throat and stretched his arm across the back of her chair. “Do you mind if I join you? I wanted to sit with someone I was comfortable with.”
Comfortable. The two of them? What made her perk up a lot was the way Grant's eyes scanned her from head to toe, as if he hadn't seen her looking quite that way before. Good. He shouldn't have her pegged. She wanted to be an enigma like he was. But she knew that probably wasn't possible.
“The buffet line's set up,” Grant said, nodding to the table. “Are you ready to get something to eat?”
So, maybe they were going to spend the evening together. She'd have to readjust all of her mental buttons.
The servers had taken over at the chafing dishes and the buffet was indeed ready. Nikki and Drew stood nearby, watching Caprice as she nodded to Grant. He rose from his chair and they walked over to the buffet line.
Spotting Nikki and Drew, Grant remarked, “I've never seen him with her before. Does she have new help?”
“Possibly a partnership. They're seeing how the working arrangement goes.”
“That's a good idea. You never know how exactly you'll work with someone until you do it.”
They were quiet as they selected food for their plates. Caprice chose one of the hors d'oeuvres that was heart-shaped. She added a Waldorf salad and passed by the fruit cups. Pausing before the hot buffet, Caprice considered the variety of dishes, from the scallops in cream sauce to chicken to a rigatoni casserole to sweet-and-sour pork. Everything smelled wonderful and Caprice knew she shouldn't even think about eating any of the luscious desserts, from chocolate swirled cheesecake to apple tarts drizzled with caramel to coconut cake . . . and, of course, heart-shaped cookies.
Grant must have read her mind because he asked, “Should we pick up desserts later?”
“Sounds like a good idea.” After all, it
was
Valentine's Day.
When they returned to the table, Grant asked, “Are you keeping an eye on Roz and Vince tonight?”
The couple had just walked up to the buffet line with Caprice's mom and dad.
“Roz can take care of herself, and I know Vince won't do anything stupid. He knows where she's coming from.”
“They seem to have a lot to talk about,” Grant noted.
“That's always good on a date,” Caprice agreed with a little smile.”
As if the word
date
turned Grant in a different direction, he asked, “So did you leave Lady alone tonight?”
“I did. I'll be home by eleven. But I did put Sophia in my office. Usually I have someone to watch Lady, but almost everyone is here tonight.”
“You're lucky to have so many people interested in watching her.”
“You don't?”
“Donna stops in once in a while, but she's busy with Tanya and the two cats. I can't ask her to take care of Patches, too. I do have a neighbor on the other side. He's in his fifties and semiretired. He was a teacher for thirty years, and now designs Web sites for businesses. Anyway, he says I can bring Patches over anytime I'd like. But I hate to impose.”
“Impose? It would be good for Patches, and if he really likes dogs, good for you, too. You won't feel so tied down if you have someone who can help a little.”
“I don't feel tied down. In fact, I like working from home with Patches there. Vince has been handing over most of the corporate agreements that come in, except for Roz's, of course. It's less face-to-face client work.”
“But you do like seeing clients.”
“I do, to a certain extent. But making wills and estate planning is more Vince's forte.”
They chatted in that congenial way through dinner until suddenly the music began playing. A DJ had set up and had started with “My Funny Valentine.” Caprice saw a look her mom and dad exchanged, and soon they stood, held hands, and went out onto the dance floor.
“They look happy,” Grant said.
Caprice leaned closer to him so he could hear her. “They make a lifelong commitment seem possible.”
Roz and Vince stood and headed for the dance floor, too.
Caprice waited, but Grant didn't ask her to dance. Instead he said, “Why don't I get us some dessert? I'll be right back.”
He returned in a few minutes with a sample dish.
They listened to the music and watched the dancers for a while as they tried the desserts. Caprice wished Grant would ask her to dance, wished he'd talk to her about something personal. But he didn't. As they ate and sipped coffee, she began to wonder why she'd gotten dressed up at all. Especially when he said during a music break, “I heard you're asking questions concerning Louise's murder. The police are aware of it.”
“What questions have you all heard I'm asking?”
“Jones knows you talked to Rachel Cosgrove. Knowing you, if you talked to Rachel, that would lead you to someone else. Am I right?”
“It led me to another of Louise's housekeepers, Pearl Mellencamp. She told me a few things about Louise that I hadn't known.”
“Like what?” he asked, leaning close.
His woodsy cologne distracted her momentarily. She shook off the intimate feel of being close to him and told him about Louise skimming money off the house fund.
Grant looked as puzzled as she'd been about Louise's money concerns. “Who else did you talk to?”