Gilt by Association (18 page)

“Do I want to know what that is?” Caprice asked with a grin as she switched off the burner.

Nikki checked her notes. “It's a mixture of whipped cream, meringue, and berries.”

“You have very sweet, semisweet, a little spicy, something heavier, and something very light. All the bases covered again.”

“You really like the menu?”

“I do. Don't start doubting yourself because a man confused you a little.”

“That's what men do, confuse me.” She pointed to Caprice's bracelet. “I heard about
that
. Seth's trying to gain points, you know, because he's not here.”

“I do know that, but I really like him.”

“Hmm,” Nikki said. “I can see we're not going to get anywhere with that.”

Sophia ambled into the kitchen now to join the party, took a look at Lady who'd settled under the table, and hopped up onto one of the chairs. After she kneaded the yellow braided seat covering, she turned around twice and curled up, her head on her paws, her golden eyes blinking up at Nikki.

As Caprice poured her hot chocolate concoction into two more mugs, Nikki rubbed her hands together. “Let's talk about your investigation. I need a good distraction, and that's it.”

“Maybe you can help me see it more clearly.”

Caprice had consolidated it so many times in her mind, that it was easy for her to click it off fact by fact. She began with the crime scene and what she remembered about the candies, the box being opened, the two candies on the floor, the fact that they looked like peanut butter creams that Louise liked, and why Louise might have them there. Candy for breakfast?

“Louise liked her chocolate-covered peanut butter creams.”

“I think those candies have to be considered an anomaly,” Caprice theorized. “Now let's go over all the suspects. There's Don Rodriguez who could have had a jealous nature. Maybe Louise wouldn't leave her husband, and he'd been asking her to. Maybe he resented her for it.”

“What did you feel about him?” Nikki asked, knowing Caprice used her sixth sense just as Nana did, even though she might not admit it.

“I liked him.”

“In what way?”

“He seemed courtly to me, like he cared about Louise. He wasn't going to interfere in her life, and he hadn't all these years. He seemed as if he cared, and that he was a real . . . gentleman.”

“You weren't having the wool pulled over your eyes with the Texas drawl, were you?”

“I don't think so. I think he was really trying to be honest with me.”

“Next suspect.”

“Pearl Mellencamp still might hold a grudge. She isn't living in the best of circumstances. Running a cleaning service might not be that profitable. So settlement or not, I'm not sure she's in a better place.”

“And then, though I hate to say it, you have an obvious suspect, don't you? The husband.”

Caprice told Nikki what she'd done in phoning the resort and pretending to be Malina Lamont. “It's pretty certain Chet was having an affair.”

“And it probably wasn't his first,” Nikki said sarcastically. “And you can't stop with Chet as a suspect. What about Malina Lamont? What if she wanted him to ask for a divorce and marry her?”

“What if he asked Louise for a divorce and she said no?” Caprice offered.

“Murder is usually about passionate feelings and relationships, and this one doesn't seem to be any different.”

“Murder can also be about money, but I haven't told you about my latest and best suspect, Stacy Miller.”

Nikki's brows drew together as she looked down at her hot chocolate and then at her coffee. She took a sip of the coffee, then quickly took one of the hot chocolate. “Now that I'm fortified, tell me who Stacy Miller is.”

Following Nikki's example, Caprice took a few sips of her coffee, then her hot chocolate. Not bad. Chocolate chasers could become a trend.

Focusing again, she said, “Louise had a past. I'm not even sure Chet knew about it. I'm going to visit with him next and delve a little more.”

“A past with enemies?”

“Possibly one very important enemy—a woman who blamed Louise for her lover's death.”

Caprice quickly told Nikki the whole story, thinking about Louise's change of name, the incidents that had led up to it, the betrayal she must have felt. Nikki switched from the coffee to the chocolate permanently. Then the two sisters gazed at each other.

“What did you say Stacy's job was?” Nikki asked.

“She worked for her lover who owned a nursery.”

“So she worked with plants?”

Caprice nodded and suddenly remembered the pamphlet she'd picked up at Perky Paws. Rising, she crossed to the refrigerator where she'd attached it with a magnet. Slipping it free, she handed it to Nikki. “That's a list of plants that are toxic to cats and dogs.”

Nikki read the list, then looked up at Caprice.

“What are you thinking?” Nikki asked.

“I'm thinking that there are plants toxic to humans. I'm thinking about Louise's trip to the hospital. She got sick after eating an organic chicken wrap, all natural ingredients supposedly. Just what were those ingredients?”

“But Louise was shot,” Nikki protested.

“Yes, she was. But maybe a gun wasn't the first weapon of choice. I know it's a long shot, but I keep considering those chocolate-covered creams at the crime scene. Why were they in the greenhouse? It was a full box except for the two on the floor. I don't think Louise would have had them for breakfast.”

“You never had chocolates for breakfast?” Nikki asked with a wry smile.

But Caprice suddenly remembered something else. “Not while I was working with plants. Louise's hands were all dirty from the ground she'd been using to transplant.”

“I see your point. You think something lethal was in those chocolates?”

Caprice hopped up so fast, even Sophia and Lady glanced up at her. She reached for her cell phone charging on the counter.

“Who are you calling?” Nikki asked.

“Grant. I'm going to ask him to do me a favor.”

Caprice just hoped he was still speaking to her. Well, why wouldn't he be? He was the one who hadn't asked her to dance. He was the one who'd left.

The bracelet Seth had given her jingled on her wrist as she picked up her phone.

Chapter Eighteen

When Caprice dialed Grant's number, she really didn't know what to expect. He usually had his phone with him. He usually answered right away. However, today, his phone rang three times, and she was beginning to give up. He could be walking Patches. He could be deep in work. He could see her number and ignore the call.

But he didn't ignore her call. He picked up.

“Hello?” The word was clipped as if he were busy . . . or something.

“Grant, its Caprice.”

“I have caller ID.”

All right, so maybe he had been thinking about ignoring her call, but then decided to pick up.

“I know you do. I mean—” Just what did she mean? That she'd known this conversation was going to be awkward? And just why was it going to be awkward? Because he hadn't asked her to dance?

Keeping her thoughts focused, she said honestly, “I need a favor.”

Silence met that declaration until he asked, “A favor? From me? You have a brother who's a lawyer. You have a boyfriend who's a doctor. What could you possibly need from me?”

Whoa. He sounded angry, and just why hadn't she called Vince? Because Vince didn't seem to have the contacts in the D.A.'s office that Grant had. Because Grant had dealt with Detective Jones when Joe had needed a lawyer. Because . . . There were lots of becauses.

She said truthfully, “I thought you were the one who could do the best job with this.”

“Just what job do you want done, Caprice?”

“I was going over Louise's murder with Nikki. I think we might have come up with a lead the police could have missed.”

“The forensics team as well as Jones are thorough.”

“I know they are, but just listen, okay?”

After about three heartbeats, Grant said, “I'm listening.”

“Remember when Louise ended up in the hospital the week before she was killed?”

“I remember.”

“I don't think she had food poisoning. I think she might have been poisoned. She had lunch with someone that day, an organic chicken wrap, according to Rachel. Half of it was left in the refrigerator, but of course she threw it away after Louise was taken to the hospital.”

“Who did she have lunch with?”

“We don't know.”

“You want me to call Jones and tell him that? That you don't know who she had lunch with, and the chicken wrap was thrown away so it can't be tested?”

“No, I don't want you to tell Detective Jones that. I'm just trying to explain my theory.”

She heard a sigh of frustration.

“All right, explain.”

She told him Louise's story, about Stacy Miller, about the threats, about Louise's name change.

“I don't know if Jones has dug into all that. How did you find out about the name change?” Grant wanted to know.

“Marianne Brisbane investigated for me.”

“That makes sense. So what's the favor? You just want me to tell Jones all this because he probably wouldn't listen to you?”

“No. It's about the chocolates I saw at the crime scene. Louise had no reason to have an open box of chocolates on her potting bench, not with all the dirt and grime and seeds and plants. I think the murderer brought those chocolates to her. I think the murderer might have wanted her to eat them, right then, because they were laced with something. Either the same something or a different something that was in the organic chicken wrap. The box was on the potting bench. There were a couple of chocolates that had fallen on the floor. I'm sure the forensics team gathered all that up. Could you ask them if they were tested? Can you tell him to look for a plant-based substance that might have been lethal?”

“And if there
is
something wrong with the chocolates, you think Jones should be looking for Stacy Miller?”

“Yes, I think he should be.”

“Why would Louise have had lunch with this person?”

“Maybe Stacy was offering an olive branch. Maybe she told Louise she wanted to let bygones be bygones. I don't know. I haven't gotten farther than the chocolates. That's why we need the forensics team and Detective Jones.”

“We? Because I'm your go-between?”

“No.
We
. . . because I know you want to see this solved as much as I do.”

“Maybe not quite as much,” he muttered. “But I do think your mom needs closure, and if this helps, I'll call Jones.”

“Thank you, Grant.”

“No thanks necessary.”

She hesitated, but then said, “Maybe when the weather warms up a little, we can walk Patches and Lady together.”

“My caseload hasn't lessened just because I'm working from home. It could be spring before I have time for that kind of outing.”

Or it could be summer or winter or fall. She got the message. Grant was perturbed with her, but he wouldn't talk about why. He wouldn't talk about anything with her right now except the Louise Downing murder case.

“Will you call me if you learn anything from Detective Jones?”

“I'll call you if I learn anything from anybody.”

At least that was something. But as she said good-bye and ended the call, she felt deflated, even though she might be on her way to solving Louise Downing's murder.

Caprice had no sooner put down her phone, when her doorbell rang and she heard yipping outside her front door. Another stray?

Nikki must have been thinking the same thing because she rolled her eyes and shook her head as if to say,
Just what you need
. Instead she asked, “Is Grant going to help?”

“He says he'll talk to Detective Jones. We'll see what happens next.”

Crossing to the door, Caprice opened it and her day turned a whole lot brighter. Roz was standing there and Dylan was the one yipping and hopping up and down.

Caprice missed the little dog and now she opened her door wide.

Roz held out a bag labeled with the Cupcake House. “I have the best chocolate cupcakes topped with cream cheese icing in all of Kismet. Do you have time for coffee?”

Roz watched her weight judiciously. She only bought cupcakes when she was stressed. She must be stressed about something and Caprice guessed what.

She waved toward the living room. “Nikki's here, too.”

“I have more than enough,” Roz said, coming inside after Dylan. “And two De Luca sisters might be just what I need in order to sleep at night again.”

Dylan and Lady circled each other twice, touched noses, then ran off to the kitchen where Lady's dish still had a few crunchies. Dylan remembered that's where his food had been dished out, too.

“I'm glad they get along,” Roz said as she sat on the sofa next to Nikki.

Caprice asked, “Talk first, coffee later? Or both at the same time?”

“I could eat a dozen of those cupcakes right now. Let's talk and eat,” Roz said in the same tone she used for business negotiations. She must really be stressed.

As always, her friend looked like a model. She'd taken her coat off and thrown it over the oak mirrored bench in the foyer. Underneath the cream long wool coat, she wore an impeccably beautiful pale blue cashmere sweater and pale blue wool slacks. Sapphire studs in her ears were understated, but definitely expensive as was the matching ring on her finger. Her leather shoe boots were probably Italian made, and her purse was Prada. Roz had wonderful taste and Caprice admired that. It was so different from her own.

“I already have a pot of coffee on.”

Nikki and Roz were discussing the latest issue of
Marie Claire
magazine when Caprice brought in all of their filled mugs.

Mug in hand, Roz looked first to Caprice and then at Nikki. “I need more than a little advice about your brother.”

Exactly what Caprice had suspected. She exchanged a look with Nikki. “And you think we're qualified to give it?”

Roz gave a small chuckle. “As well as any two sisters are. You know him much better than I do.”

“Some days,” Nikki contributed, in an amused tone. “Neither Caprice nor I seem to understand men very well right now. They're an enigma, and that includes Vince. But we'll help any way we can.”

Sophia, who had climbed her cat tree, jumped from the highest platform to the second highest to the lowest, and then sauntered over to the sofa as if to join in the conversation. She jumped up onto the back atop the afghan Nana had crocheted and stretched out behind Nikki.

Nikki gave the cat a chin rub. “Just what do you want to know?”

Dylan and Lady suddenly dashed through the living room, heading around the circle to Caprice's office. Obviously they'd finished the crunchies and were now looking for entertainment.

“I want to know what's in his head.”

Caprice nodded to the cupcakes. “You'd better have a couple of those. No one's ever mapped Vince's head, and if you think Nikki and I have a GPS through it, you're wrong.”

“I thought he was dating Lonnie Hippensteel,” Roz blurted out.

“He brought her to Mom's birthday party at the beginning of the summer, and he dated her a couple of times,” Caprice admitted. “But I saw Lonnie when I was Christmas shopping in December, and she gave me the impression they'd parted ways and weren't connecting again. Truthfully, Roz, over the past year, Vince's dating habits have slowed down. Nana used to tease him that he dated a different woman every weekend. I don't think that's true anymore. What do you think, Nik?”

“Like most men, Vince doesn't give much away,” Nikki remarked. “But like Caprice, I don't see him dating as much. He joined Shape Up, but I really think it's to work out, not to hit on women. He seems quieter at our family dinners. He told me he felt honored that Joe and Bella asked him to be Benny's godfather.”

“Did you have a good time at the Valentine's Day dance?” Caprice asked.

“We had a great time. And afterward . . . when he walked me to my door . . . he kissed me! That's why I'm so confused.”

“I guess Vince had a good time, too,” Nikki said with a shrug.

“He called last night and asked me out again.”

“Oh,” Nikki intoned, as if she understood it all now. “You want to know if this is going someplace.”

“I want to know if it
should
go someplace,” Roz returned. “It hasn't been a year since Ted died.”

Long before Ted's death, he and Roz had been having problems. Not merely problems, but he'd been having an affair. Wondering if this was a trust issue, rather than a grief issue that was bothering her friend, she asked, “What do you want advice about? Whether or not you should see Vince? Do you want him to be serious? Do
you
want to be serious?”

Roz shook her head and reached for a cupcake. “I don't know. I thought he just asked me to the dance so we'd have a good time.”

“And you did,” Nikki reminded her.

“But you kissed,” Caprice added. “And that's what changed everything.”

“Vince asking me out again is what changed everything.”

Nikki reached for a cupcake, too. “What kind of date?”

“He wants to take me on a tour of a winery, and then go out to dinner.”

Lady and Dylan dashed through the living room again, this time the bigger dog chasing the smaller dog. They ruffled the throw rug and it went sliding across the hardwood floor. But Caprice was used to such antics. What she wasn't used to was her brother possibly being serious about her friend.

“I could talk to him,” she offered.

But Roz's response was immediate. “No, don't do that. If I have questions, I'll have to ask him myself. I guess I just have to be clear about what I want.”

“And that is?” Nikki and Caprice asked at the same time.

“I don't want to get hurt. I want to know that Vince and I are on the same page. I never want to fall for a man like Ted again.”

“Vince isn't like Ted,” Caprice assured her. “He has a good heart.”

“But we're prejudiced,” Nikki chimed in. “He's our brother.”

Caprice reached over and patted Roz's hand. “And you're our friend. If you and Vince have fun at the winery tour, then you need to have a long talk at dinner and figure out what both of you want.”

As Roz nodded, Caprice realized she should be taking her own advice. Maybe she and Grant should have one of those long talks, too.

 

 

Caprice loved the rawness of the inside of the Sherwood Forest-themed house as she stood in its great room on Saturday. The owners had chosen not to be here for the open house, and she understood that. Although the list of guests was impressive, from a few millionaires from New York to a celebrity home shopping idol to anyone who inveigled themselves onto a real estate agent's list to acquire an invitation, Caprice knew it was difficult for homeowners to see their house toured by strangers. Especially after it was staged, it was then no longer really theirs.

Nikki was setting up in the kitchen with her waitstaff who looked like actors from a Robin Hood movie. Caprice always liked these moments when she was relatively alone in the staged house, simply admiring its beauty. In this case, the main eye-catching draw was the exposed eight-inch round beams lining the slanted ceiling two stories above. The stone fireplace was two stories high and automatically took an onlooker's gaze to those beams. She'd taken advantage of the ceiling appeal and added two foot-long lighting fixtures that resembled old-time lanterns. They added drama. The cavernous living room consisted mostly of wood, from the knotty-pine paneled walls to the distressed plank flooring.