Silence of the Lamps (6 page)

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Caprice said. “She needs her friends now more than ever. It’s nice of you to let her stay here.”

Kiki waved her age-spotted hand. “Nonsense. That’s what real friends do. I’ve offered her my downstairs bedroom. She’s in my den right now watching an old movie, but I don’t think she’s paying much attention to it. Come on in.”

Kiki’s house was a mixture of comfortable and stylish. The multi-cushioned sofa wore a fabric of bright flowery blooms, most of them hydrangeas in pink and blue. An oversized chair with an ottoman accompanied it. Glass-topped tables were sparkling bright and streak-free. Kiki, in her late sixties, obviously took good care of herself and her surroundings.

She led them to a room adjacent to the living room. In this parlor, the color theme was sage green and gray. Two recliners in sage faced a flat-screen TV. The furniture was polished pine. Although the entertainment center housed the TV, all of its shelves were filled with books. Caprice caught sight of mysteries and romances, spy thrillers, and nonfiction titles too.

“You have visitors,” Kiki announced to her guest.

Rowena began to lower her footrest, but Caprice stopped her.

“Don’t get up. We brought you a basket of goodies we thought you might enjoy. Nana included some of her biscotti.”

Rowena smiled. “Everyone loves Celia’s biscotti. They’re so different from those hard cookies you buy at the market.”

Nana’s biscotti were lemon-iced, soft cookies that went well with coffee or tea. Caprice tried to replicate them and did to a certain extent, but they never tasted just like Nana’s.

Kiki said, “I’ll let you talk. Just call me if you need anything.”

After she left the room, Nikki sat in the other recliner and Caprice sat cross-legged on the floor near Rowena.

“How are you doing?” she asked gently.

“Not so well, I’m afraid. I want to get back into my house. I don’t even have clothes. Kiki let me borrow some of hers.” She motioned to the black slacks that were a little too long, and the green striped blouse that was a bit too big.

“Jeanie was here for awhile last night,” she offered. “She’s taking care of many of the arrangements. She’s a go-getter, that one, though she and Drew were never really close.”

“You said they came to live with you after their parents died?”

“They did,” Rowena assured her. “There wasn’t anyone else. My husband had passed away, and somehow we all muddled through. They were so lost for a while. And Drew?” Rowena shook her head. “I was really worried about him. As a teenager, he was a handful. Even when he received his inheritance—”

Rowena stopped as if remembering Drew and the years they’d spent together was a little much right now.

To keep the conversation going and to help Rowena, Nikki jumped in. “I suppose Drew used his inheritance to fund chef school.”

Rowena seemed to rally. “I was the trustee for Jeanie and Drew’s inheritance until they were twenty-one. Then the money was split and they received the balance. Jeanie used hers to go to business school and to buy her flower shop. She’s done quite well—except for an impulsive marriage after she graduated high school that was practically over before it started. After she bought Posies, she seemed to find her footing. At first, I thought Drew was going to waste all of his inheritance and there wasn’t a thing I could do about it. He went through most of it quickly, buying an expensive car, taking vacations. He used the last of it to go to cooking school and he seemed to settle down after that. When he came back here, he was really kind to me. I had had a fall and broken my arm, so he came here to live to help out, and he stayed. I was so proud when he sold that barbecue sauce recipe. He even told me the secret ingredient,” she said with a shaky smile.

“Can you tell us?” Nikki asked kindly.

“Sure. I don’t know all the ingredients, but the secret one was the habanero sea salt. Just a touch. It gave the sweetness a kick.”

“Did you ever make barbecue sauce?” Caprice asked.

Rowena fluttered her hand. “Just the traditional kind, with vinegar, oil, and sugar . . . and a bit of tomato.”

“Did Drew tell you about the expo he was cooking for?”

“I just knew he’d be gone all day Sunday.”

“I was there too,” Nikki said. “It was a wedding expo where prospective brides and grooms could study the kind of flowers they might want to use, or gowns, or food. Drew introduced a chocolate walnut cake. My nana said you used to make one of those. Did you give your recipe to Drew?”

Rowena slowly shook her head. “No, I didn’t give him any recipes.”

“Drew didn’t have access to them?” Caprice asked, keeping her voice light.

“No, he didn’t. Years ago, a member of my canasta club tried to steal them. So I hid the more important ones where no one will find them. The chocolate walnut cake with the maple icing was one of those. Only Kiki knows where I’ve hidden them in case something happens to me.”

Caprice wondered if the hollow tube around the cord of the lamp was one of those hiding places. That lamp could be heavy, but not so heavy that Rowena couldn’t tilt it on the floor and stuff a few papers around the cord. But she could see Rowena was tiring, and she didn’t want to upset her by going into more of it now.

Kiki must have overheard some of their conversation, because as she swept into the room with a tray holding a coffee carafe and mugs, she explained, “Eventually Drew would have inherited the recipes as well as Rowena’s Tiffany lamps. They
are
Tiffany, by the way.”

Rowena’s hands fluttered in her lap. “Those lamps have been in my family since the early 1900s. We always knew they were Tiffany because of the special glass and the
Tiffany New York
stamp on them with a number.”

“Now half of one of them is missing, according to what the police are telling Rowena,” Kiki said. “We’re hoping they can find it.”

“If you don’t mind my asking,” Nikki said, “if Drew was inheriting the lamps and recipes, what would Jeanie inherit?”

“Jeanie was going to inherit my house, jewelry, and the rest of my belongings.”

In other words, now Jeanie would inherit the house and everything else too
, Caprice thought. Was that a motive enough for murder?

Chapter Six

Caprice knew that some of her clients owned valuables, but she never knew exactly how much they were worth.

She asked, “Most people don’t understand the value of lamps like yours. Did you ever have them appraised?”

“They’d be worth stealing, maybe even killing over,” Rowena said with a frown. “I told the police that. Isaac Hobbs from Older and Better consulted a New York City contact of his who’s an expert authenticator. So I do know what they’re worth,” Rowena assured her. “It was after his appraisal that I set up a new will.”

“Did Drew and Jeanie know about the new will? Did they know what the lamps are worth?”

“Yes, they knew about it. I’m not like some older folk who keep everything secret. They would inherit everything I have some day, so I wanted them to know what I was thinking. They didn’t pressure me in the least. Drew always liked the lamps, and Jeanie, well, I guess I have to say, she’s more interested in the bottom line.”

“So she’d only be interested in what your house and belongings are worth? Not the sentimental value of keeping everything?”

“Exactly. And I understand that. Young folks are different these days. Neither she nor Drew had a happy time growing up here because of what happened to their parents. They had trouble bonding to me. Their school counselor told me they tried to stay detached because they didn’t want to get hurt again if something happened to me. It made perfect sense. I had no illusions about either one of them. If I died, they’d sell off whatever I gave them and do whatever they wanted with the money. But I think Jeanie would do that quicker than Drew.”

Kiki was nodding her head as if she absolutely agreed. These two women apparently had no secrets.

“I was around during those rough years,” Kiki elaborated, pouring the coffee. “Their parents suddenly being taken from them was earth-shattering. Jeanie withdrew. Drew acted out. Sometimes I thought the only time he was really happy was when he was cooking with Rowena. Then he forgot about the fact that he hated the world, and he started getting closer to her in that way.”

“Did you see that?” Nikki asked Rowena.

“Oh yes. He would always make such a mess in the kitchen. But I didn’t scold him. Because when I watched him cook, I saw in his eyes a bit of that sparkle that he had when he was a boy.”

Caprice decided to take the conversation down another path. “When kids can’t bond with adults, sometimes they bond with their peers instead. Did Jeanie and Drew have a group of friends? Anyone they could confide in?”

Rowena thought about it. “Jeanie pretty much kept to herself. She spent a lot of time in her room reading. When the weather was nice, she’d plant flowers in the yard or sit on the back porch swing reading.”

“That one could get lost in books,” Kiki agreed. “She devoured everything I brought her. Drew, on the other hand, couldn’t be bothered with books. He wanted to be out and about doing something. And he had friends he’d do it with. I don’t know if he confided in them, but he spent a lot of time with them.”

“When he was in high school, I hardly ever saw him,” Rowena explained. “He had two best buddies—Larry Penya and Bronson Chronister. The three of them seemed to be like brothers.”

“It was odd, really,” Kiki said. “The three of them were very different.”

“How so?” Caprice asked.

“Are you familiar with Happy Camper Recreational Vehicle Center?”

Caprice noticed that when Rowena picked up her mug of coffee, her hand shook a little. All of this talk about Drew and his past could be having an adverse effect.

“I’ve heard of Happy Camper RV Center,” Nikki responded. “Their sales center is on the east end of Kismet. Some of their campers look like mini houses. One of my servers has a pop-up tent camper she bought there.”

“Bronson Chronister’s dad built up that business,” Rowena told them. “He once had a little store downtown where he sold camping equipment. That developed into the enterprise existing today. Bronson runs it now. When he lost his dad a few years ago, he took it over with nary a glitch. And he’s rich enough to have bought one of those fancy one-of-a-kind houses in Reservoir Heights. Drew was using Bronson’s kitchen for his catering business.”

“Bronson isn’t married?” Caprice asked.

“No. He’s one of those bachelors like you see on TV. He has everything he wants. He travels a good bit. Just hasn’t settled down, I guess.”

“I thought maybe Drew was renting kitchen space somewhere,” Nikki mused, looking thoughtful.

“Oh, no. He didn’t have to. When Drew decided to open his own business, Bronson was right there for him. The three of them were always like the Three Musketeers.”

“What does Larry Penya do?” Caprice asked.

“That’s another story,” Rowena acknowledged. “He came from the wrong side of the tracks. His father left when he was a boy, and his mom always struggled to make ends meet. In high school, Larry had a job bagging at the local grocery store so he could help her out. Unfortunately he’s still struggling. He was an electrician and worked for one of the contractors in town for years. But then with the economic downturn, he was let go. He opened a handyman business that Drew said was taking off, but I’m not sure Larry has the business sense to make it work. He’s married, with a little boy who’s around four, I think. But Drew had mentioned that Larry and his wife, Linda, separated. Such a shame for their child.”

When Rowena picked up her coffee mug again, the trembling in her hand was evident, and she set it down quickly. Then she ran her hand across her brow as if she might have a headache.

Caprice caught Nikki’s eye and nodded to the door. Rowena was still processing everything that had happened. She looked as if she hadn’t had much sleep, and Caprice guessed that the insomnia might go on for a while. Murder and the grief and shock surrounding it could steal sleep as well as peace and happiness.

“We don’t want to take up any more of your time. You really should rest,” Caprice suggested.

“I don’t think I got a wink of sleep last night,” Rowena admitted. “Maybe a nap would help me cope with everything a little better. I have to speak with the funeral director tomorrow, but I don’t know what I’m going to tell him. I don’t know when the police are going to let me plan the funeral.”

“The detectives will notify you as soon as they can,” Caprice assured her.

“After an autopsy,” Rowena murmured.

Yes, the body would be released after the autopsy, though the cause of death seemed pretty obvious. But there
was
evidence that could be gathered from the body.

Nikki rose now too and came to stand by Rowena. “We just wanted to tell you again how very sorry we are. Drew and I . . .” Nikki stumbled. “We weren’t on the best of terms, but I just want you to know, I didn’t wish him any harm.”

Rowena patted Nikki’s hand. “My dear, I never suspected that you did. A few months ago when Drew was working with you, he seemed happier than I’ve seen him for a long time. He was in a foul mood when you told him you didn’t want him for a partner. In fact, he was all grouchy and grumpy until this barbecue sauce deal came through. I just wish . . .” She stopped and shook her head. “I wish a lot of things,” she said with a sigh. “I just can’t imagine why someone would have done this to him.”

Caprice couldn’t imagine why someone would do it either, but someone
did
have a motive. Could she figure out who that person was, and what kind of motive would drive them to murder?

* * *

Nikki had no sooner closed the door of Caprice’s van when she asked, “Does anyone really know anyone else?”

Caprice glanced at her. Although her hand was on the ignition, she didn’t turn the key. “Do you think everyone has a secret life?”

“No, but we skate on the surface of one another’s lives. Do you know what I mean? I never suspected everything in Drew’s background. Just imagine losing your parents at an early age and not being able to adjust.”

“Are you thinking more kindly about him?”

“Not really. I just wonder if I’d known all this whether I would have treated him differently, maybe a little more gently.”

After a few moments’ hesitation, Caprice suggested, “You mean you wouldn’t have kneed him where it hurt when he assaulted you?”

“He didn’t—”

“Think about it, Nikki. Think about what he did and how you reacted. Would you have kneed him if it wasn’t assault?”

“You want me to put it in plain terms and it’s not that easy. I might have given him signals that I wanted him to come on to me.”

“And he didn’t know when to stop.”

After a brief silence, Nikki admitted, “He didn’t know when to stop.”

“That has nothing to do with knowing him or not knowing him.”

“Are you going to try to figure out who murdered him?”

“Yes.”

“But we didn’t even really like him,” Nikki protested.

“Liking Drew or not isn’t part of this, Nik. Drew nudged close to you at the expo. I saw you push him away. What if your DNA or hair or something transferred onto him? He was wearing the same clothes he had on at the expo when he was killed.”

“Oh my gosh! I never thought of that. How could you notice something like that, with the blood and the smell—”

“Because I’ve witnessed murder scenes before. Taking in details wasn’t even a conscious choice. You have to protect yourself. We have to protect you, and there’s only one way to do that. Talk to Vince about how to do it, but you’ve got to tell Detective Carstead about that encounter at the expo. He might find your DNA. Be up front about it, and in the meantime I’ll look for motives.”

She just hoped she’d find that someone else had a motive other than Nikki.

After Nikki pulled away in her work van, Caprice crossed the street and climbed the steps to Dulcina’s house. Lady barked before she even rang the bell, and she smiled. Lady had good intuition.

Dulcina opened the door with a wide smile. “She knew it was you. I think she knows the sound of your van. Her tail started wagging when she heard it. Can I interest you in some butter rum coffee? New flavor.”

“You can always interest me in coffee.”

Caprice followed Dulcina through her living room decorated in gray and blue to her pristine kitchen that was blue and white. Caprice liked the white counters, but if she was cooking on and around them, they probably wouldn’t stay white. She’d admit she was a messy cook.

“You still didn’t get one of these brewers?” Dulcina asked as she placed a pod in the coffeemaker.

“No, I didn’t buy one yet, though I’m thinking about it. It would be nice to make one cup of coffee like that when I’m on the run. I could just keep the other coffeemaker in the closet for when family and friends come.”

Dulcina quickly brewed two cups, set the mugs on the table, and pulled sugar from the cupboard and milk from the refrigerator. After they were seated, Lady by their chairs chomping on a treat Dulcina had given her, Caprice’s neighbor said, “I need to ask you something.”

“Sure. What is it?”

“Since I’ve been dating Rod the past six months, I feel as if my life is . . . more fulfilling.”

“That’s a good thing.”

“Yes, I suppose so. But my problem is . . . his girls. The older one especially. Janet really did a number on him, and he hasn’t dated much. So Leslie and Vanna aren’t used to having women in their dad’s life. I felt their resentment from the first moment they met me, and I don’t know what to do about it. Leslie is becoming almost belligerent, and I’m having a tough time getting to know her. I don’t know what to do.”

After Caprice thought about Dulcina’s situation for a moment, she asked, “Are his daughters into music?”

“I see them wearing their earbuds a lot, so I suppose they might be.”

“I have an idea. It concerns Ace Richland. Do you think his music would be appropriate for them?”

“I don’t see why not. He does pop rock, right?”

“Yep, his new stuff’s in line with his old hits.”

Last fall, Caprice had staged an estate to sell in a Wild Kingdom theme. Ace Richland, an eighties pop star legend, had decided he needed a haven on the East Coast, not so far from his daughter. He’d bought the estate Caprice had staged and they’d become friends. They’d become even closer friends in March when his girlfriend had been murdered. Caprice had helped find the killer and gotten Ace off the hook.

“He’s doing his comeback tour. He started on the West Coast, but he’s returning east in a couple of weeks for a concert at the Giant Center in Hershey. What if I can get you, Rod, and the girls tickets and VIP passes? Do you think they’d be impressed meeting somebody like Ace?”

“That’s a wonderful idea.” Her neighbor rose from her chair and came over to hug her. “I’ll be forever grateful. When do you think we’ll know if you can get tickets?”

Caprice took out her phone. “Let’s see if I can find out. Ace might still be at his hotel.”

She pressed speed dial for the rock star’s number. Ace, who was once Al Rizzo from Scranton, Pennsylvania, had a family background similar to hers, and they’d connected for that reason. He could have a short fuse sometimes, but he was a great guy.

He answered on the second ring. “Hey, there,” he said. “Do you need my help staging a house?”

She laughed. “Only if you have some nautical ideas up your sleeve.” Nautical Interlude was the theme on a new house-staging contract.

He chuckled. “Fresh out. Though I should have you stop by my place to see if the landscaper is doing a good job on the fire pit I’m having built out back.”

“I might have to enjoy s’mores at your fire pit sometime.”

“Any time. What can I do for you?”

“Do you remember my talking about my neighbor Dulcina who pet-sits for Lady sometimes?”

“Sure.”

“She’d like to impress the daughters of a man she’s dating. They’re having a little problem . . . communicating, finding common ground.”