Gilt by Association (10 page)

 

 

York was a city with tons of neighborhoods, from rich to poor, and everything in between. There were shopping centers and malls in the east end, the west end, and the north end. There were two hospitals and urban sprawl that crawled into what once had been beautiful farmland. Whatever residents of Kismet couldn't find in their town, they could find in York. Caprice had staged houses here, but not in the section of town where she and Nikki and Lady were headed now.

“I can't believe you were going to drive over here by yourself and question this woman you've never met who might hold a grudge,” Nikki berated her from the passenger seat.

“I was going to bring Lady along,” Caprice joked.

Lady heard her name and barked from her crate in the back.

But Nikki wasn't laughing. “You've got to be careful this time, Caprice. You know you do. Mom would never forgive herself if you put yourself in a situation where you got hurt.”

This morning they'd sat beside their mom in the pew at St. Francis during the funeral Mass. At the cemetery, their dad had escorted their mom to one of the chairs Chet had designated for their use. As the cold wind blew, they'd all stood behind their mother, each of them with a hand on her shoulder as the priest had said his final words, as everyone who had thought highly of Louise or loved her had taken a rose from the huge spray on top of the casket to keep as a remembrance.

“Mom and Louise were friends like you and I are,” Nikki said.

“I'm not sure about that,” Caprice responded, wishing she didn't have to.

“What do you mean? You saw how heartbroken Mom was. Dad was, too.”

“Yes, they were. But how broken up would Louise have been if something happened to Mom?”

“What an awful thing to say!”

“It's an awful thing to think. But I've been thinking it ever since Millicent Corsi told me that Gail and Louise were best friends. Mom never knew that. What else didn't she know?”

But Nikki was still thinking about best friends. “Maybe best friends can change.”

“Do they? Really?”

They thought about the concept of best friends for a few moments until Caprice reminded Nikki, “My best friend never changed. You've always been my best friend.”

“That's different, Caprice. We lived together. We loved each other. We were pals.”

“We were still two years apart, though, not in the same classes, not dating the same level of boys. Other girls could have snuck in there and put a wedge in our friendship. Bella certainly tried sometimes.”

Nikki shrugged. “We lived with the De Luca history. We knew everything there was to know about the family. We heard our aunts and uncles complain and get a little tipsy and tell things they shouldn't. All of that bonded us in a way and made us feel even closer. So close, we could talk about anything, even with Bella. You know that's true.”

Nikki continued. “The whole situation with Mom and Louise could have boiled down to Louise not wanting to hurt Mom, not wanting her to know she and Gail were close.”

Caprice made a left turn. “I suppose. Sometimes when we share something, we try to protect Bella.”

“It never works out, though, because she can see it on our faces. She keeps poking and prodding until she figures out what we're holding back.”

Caprice thought about the differences between her generation and her mother's. “Mom never would have poked and prodded with Louise. They were both women who knew what ‘classy' meant. There just isn't so much class around anymore. Haughtiness, maybe, but not class. Does Chet have any brothers or sisters?” Caprice asked.

“You'd have to ask Dad for sure, but I don't think so. And I didn't see any relatives of his there. He's nine years older than Dad.”

“I never really delved into his business success,” Caprice mused. “I heard Dad say once that whatever Chet Downing did always turned out right . . . that he had a mind for business.”

As the GPS voice told them they had arrived at their destination on the right, Caprice pulled up to the curb and examined the houses along the street. Most were row houses, two stories, freshly painted. This time of year, many had some kind of Valentine's Day decoration on the door in the form of a wreath, a bouquet, or a plastic heart.

She left her van running so it would stay heated, but she cracked her window and told Nikki to do the same.

“You should let me go to the door with you,” she advised Caprice, not for the first time.

“No. I'll have my phone with me. You'll be able to hear every word. Talk to Lady until I get inside so she doesn't start barking.”

Caprice dialed Nikki's number, then exited the van before Nikki could give her any other advice or warning. Caprice had to admit she felt a little twinge in her stomach, not knowing what she was going to find here. But her stomach would get over it, and so would she.

On the small porch, she confidently knocked on the wooden screen door. When Pearl Mellencamp opened the door, Caprice recognized her immediately, although she was older . . . and looked it. Her brown hair was turning gray, and it was all frizzy around her head as if she'd tried to give herself her own perm. She wore no make-up, ragged jeans with holes, and a sweatshirt.

“Hi,” Caprice said with a lot of energy and held out her hand.

“I'm not voting in the next election,” Pearl mumbled and started to close the door.

“Oh, I'm not a politician.”

“I'm not buying any cookies or Tupperware or wrapping paper or magazines either.”

Caprice shook her head. “I'm not selling any of those.” She reached into her purse for a business card and handed it to Pearl.

Louise's former housekeeper glanced at it and narrowed her eyes, then said, “You're a home stager. Do I know you?”

“It's been a long time, but I visited Louise Downing's house when you were her housekeeper. I have some questions.”

At that, Pearl backed up a step and attempted to close the door again.

Caprice asked quickly, “Do you know she's dead?”

That stopped Pearl. She took a step forward, the door opening wide.

“Dead?”

“She was murdered.”

Pearl looked . . . astonished, but Caprice supposed that could be an act. After all, Louise's murder had been all over the local news.

“That house had security,” Pearl informed Caprice. “Chet Downing had a gun. And Louise knew how to take care of herself, unless that heart condition of hers got the best of her if she got scared—” Pearl broke off as if she'd said too much.

“I'm trying to help find her murderer,” Caprice told Pearl truthfully, watching the woman's eyes. “So I thought maybe we could have a cup of coffee or tea and talk.”

Pearl avoided Caprice's gaze, but then said grudgingly, “Come on in. I'll get the kettle.”

Five minutes later, the kettle had whistled and Pearl was pouring water into two mugs. She plopped in the tea bags. “I've been buried in paperwork from my cleaning business, trying to get everything together to do taxes. Not watching much TV. Maybe that's why I didn't hear about Louise. How was she . . . killed?”

“Someone shot her.”

Pearl didn't react to that news.

The kitchen was shabby. There was a crooked blind at the window but no curtains. They sat at a small rectangular table for two, looking down at their tea mugs on plastic, well-used flowered and faded place mats. Caprice didn't even have a spoon to take the tea bag out, and she didn't want to just lay it on the table. So she left it in, watching the brew get darker and darker.

“Can you tell me a little about working at the Downings'?” Caprice asked.

“I worked there ten years,” Pearl announced proudly. With a scowl, she added, “But then suddenly they decided they didn't want me there anymore.”

“Who decided?”

“It wasn't one or the other. Mr. and Mrs. Downing came to me together and said they thought it was time for me to go. But every household has secrets, and housekeepers usually know what they are.”

“What were the secrets in the Downing household?”

Pearl shook her head. “As part of my settlement I can't talk about the Downings.”

“I see. The thing is Louise is dead.”

A smile suddenly broke across Pearl's face. “Yeah, she is, isn't she? You know, she was shrewder than she looked.”

“I don't know what you mean.”

“Louise wasn't no shrinking violet, not like her husband thought she was. She was a schemer.” As if she couldn't wait to reveal what she'd been hiding for years, Pearl gave Caprice a conspiratorial smile and continued. “Mr. Downing put a household allowance in her account every week.”

“That makes sense,” Caprice prompted, wondering where this was going.

“Oh, yes, it does, to buy groceries and supplies and whatever else she might need. But . . .” Pearl's voice lowered a notch as if someone might overhear. “Louise skimmed money off that account and transferred it into an account Mr. Downing
didn't
know about. That poor man must have thought expenses for food and bedsheets were rising faster than inflation.”

“You said households have lots of secrets. Did Louise ever mention anything about her past before she married Mr. Downing?”

“Like what?” Pearl asked.

Caprice didn't want to get too specific because she wanted the information to come from Pearl. “Did she ever mention past relationships she'd had before her marriage?”

Pearl considered that, then shook her head.

Before Caprice could even think about what Pearl
had
given her, barking came from her phone. She'd forgotten to press mute.

“What's that?” Pearl asked, motioning to Caprice's pocket.

“It's just my phone.”

“Yeah, but I heard something. It sounded like a dog. And if I heard something, that means you've got the phone open. That means somebody can hear me. Are you taping us?”

“No, I'm not taping.”

Pearl got to her feet. “Get out, and get out now.”

“Miss Mellencamp—”

“Don't you ‘Miss Mellencamp' me. If you want information, you get it from the people involved. I got my settlement. No, I don't like the Downings. No, I try not to think about them. But they did give me a settlement, and I have my own business now. So you just leave, and you forget about me.”

With that, she practically pushed Caprice out the door.

When Caprice returned to her van, she told Nikki, “I messed that up. I didn't mute my phone.”

She thought about the conversation she'd had with Pearl. “I'll tell you, that woman has some push behind those arms. She might be older than I am, but she's stronger, and I think she could do harm to somebody if she wanted to. In fact, I believe she's capable of murder.”

Chapter Ten

For the rest of the afternoon, as Caprice worked on upcoming projects, she couldn't help thinking about Pearl, her attitude, and her settlement with the Downings. On the other hand, she also remembered Chet's familiarity with Malina Lamont last evening, and everything Gail had told her. Sometimes people weren't what they seemed on the outside. Sometimes
couples
weren't who they seemed on the outside.

After she finished eating a slice of pepperoni bread she'd baked for herself along with a square of thawed lasagna, she placed an order for furniture from a rental company in Harrisburg. In eight days she had a Sherwood Forest-themed staging and needed a few unusual living room pieces.

She was studying the invoice when her phone played an airy signal that told her she had a text coming in. It was from Nana. Yes, some grandmothers did text.

 

After the funeral, Bella had decided to spend the afternoon and evening with their mom and Nana. Joe and the kids were supposed to join them for supper.

But now Bella wanted to see everyone?

Lady looked up at Caprice hopefully. After all, that excursion to see Pearl Mellencamp hadn't been much of a playtime. This afternoon, work had taken precedence. Her pet would enjoy the attention the rest of the De Lucas could give her.

It didn't take long to text Nana back, let Lady out for a quick bathroom run, give Sophia a little catnip and a few brushes through her thick undercoat and longer hair, and she was off to her mom's. It was probably good her mom and dad had company tonight. It would keep them from dwelling too much on the funeral, from end-of-life issues no one wanted to face.

At her mom's, Caprice left Lady with her dad, Joe and the kids, as well as Vince—who had been texted too—then joined Bella, her mom, Nana, and Nikki in Nana's apartment. The smell of coffee wafted through the rooms, and a tray of biscotti sat on the table. No matter what Caprice did, her biscotti never came out exactly like Nana's. Close, but not exact. The biscuit with its lemon icing wasn't anything like the twice-baked biscotti you could buy at the grocery store or at the Koffee Klatch. These were quite different—soft and smooth rather than hard and coarse.

Bella was wearing one of those swaddling slings, and Benny was asleep against her chest. Tonight, she was dressed in jeans and a pretty green sweater. Her curly black hair was loose around her face and looked just washed. Maybe switching Benny to the bottle had helped and she was getting more sleep.

With a smile, she pointed to a white box on the corner of the table. “Take a look at that, Caprice. It's Benny's christening outfit.” She patted her baby and cooed against his head.

After a glance at Nikki and a shrug, Caprice opened the box and turned back the tissue.

“I made the suit,” Bella explained. “Barbara from the Rosary Society at church knitted the sweater, cap, and booties. What do you think?”

First Caprice lifted out the sweater, cap, and booties made from the softest, fluffiest white yarn. “Barbara's knitting is impeccable. How pretty this is, Bella.”

She handed that part of the outfit to Nikki who could pass it along to Nana and their mom. All of the women examined it and pronounced it perfect for the christening.

Next Caprice lifted out the little white suit, and she couldn't help but gasp. It was absolutely adorable. The white shirt was enhanced with a swirl design right in the fabric. There were small white pants that were perfectly tailored for a baby. Along with both of those pieces was a white vest with tiny little lapels that came to a V.

“Oh, Bee, you made this? It's wonderful. You could make these to sell as well as costumes.”

All the women crowded around, examining every stitch and every seam, as well as the fabric.

Fran wrapped an arm around Bella's shoulders. “I always knew you were talented, but this little outfit, Bella . . . It's so beautiful because of all the love you packed into it. That makes the difference between ordinary and special.”

“Bella never makes ordinary,” Nana said, with a sweeping gesture of her hand. “She always goes beyond. This idea of children's costumes is going to catch on, you mark my words. She'll be famous someday. Maybe she should forget about going to work for Roz.”

“Joe would like that,” Bella admitted with a laugh. “But my business is going to take time to build. Now if I had a really famous client, with a child who needed a costume, that could help. But until that opportunity rolls around, I need to bring in money every week. Besides, I like being around the fashions in Roz's store. That's in my field, too.”

Bella had a different confidence about her when she talked about fashion, making costumes, and what she might like to do with a business. Although her sister was a little worn-out from the first few weeks of motherhood, Caprice had never seen her more happy. Maybe that was because her life had so many more directions and new ways it could grow.

“Everybody have biscotti,” Bella said. “I have to get Vince.”

Vince, with all these women? Caprice supposed that wasn't a stretch. Vince was good with women since he'd had to deal with three sisters all his life. At least he was good with women until he dated them and then didn't date them anymore. She thought again about him and Roz, and certainly couldn't see them as a couple that would last. But what did she know? Roz needed some fun and he could provide it. Vince needed some grounding, and Roz could provide that. Weren't relationships all about having mutual needs filled?

Vince looked perplexed as he straggled in behind Bella into Nana's apartment. Caprice suspected he didn't spend too much time here, whereas she and Nikki and Bella often had tea with Nana. Vince didn't want to be grilled, not that Nana outwardly grilled. She just seemed to have a sixth sense that led her into certain questions and certain comments that were always right on the mark. Vince had always believed she was psychic, but Caprice . . . Caprice knew Nana had terrific intuition. Mostly she was observant. She missed nothing, and that's how she put two and two together to come up with four when everyone else might get five or six.

“I don't drink tea,” Vince announced, as he stood at the table and picked up a biscotti.

“That's good because we brewed coffee,” Nikki offered, giving him a wink. “Tea's just for afternoons with Nana, when we like to think we're refined.”

“Oh, and coffee is for family when we're not?” he asked dryly.

They all laughed.

Bella held up her hand and waved it, signaling that she wanted them all to be quiet. Nothing new there. Bella liked to hold court. Tonight, however, they all soon realized she had good reason.

“Benny's christening is coming up quickly in just over three weeks. Joe and I have been discussing who we want to be his godparents.”

Caprice's heart quickened a bit. After all, being a godparent was a great honor.

“We've had discussions about it ever since Benny was born, and the reason for that was, we couldn't decide. We listed pros and cons for everybody.” She shook her head. “But that didn't help. How could I choose between Nikki and Caprice to be Benny's godmother? So this is what we decided. We'd like both of you to be his godmothers and we'd like Vince to be his godfather. How about that?”

A cheer went up from Nana and they all laughed and then hugged. Nikki and Caprice worked well together on almost everything. Being Benny's godmothers together would just give them another bond. And having Vince as godfather would bring them all even closer. She was sure of it.

“Would you like to have a light dinner after the christening? I'd be glad to cater it for you,” Nikki said. “It will be my gift to Benny.”

“Oh, that would be lovely,” Bella agreed. “We'll have to make sure to take lots of photos.”

Caprice was already thinking that a wall collage of photos would be a great birthday present for Bella. She'd have to make sure both her phone and her camera were handy.

As they talked about the ceremony and the hope for good weather, they finished the biscotti and most of the coffee.

“I bet Megan and Timmy are asleep on the sofa. Joe, too, for that matter,” Bella said with a grin.

“I really should be going, too,” Caprice said. “Tomorrow I have those model homes to spruce up for the weekend. I found nice glassware pieces at Isaac's shop. Once I add chocolates and plants, I'll be ready for Valentine's Day weekend.”

“At least with the model homes,” Nana said wisely.

“At least with the model homes,” Caprice agreed, thinking again what Valentine's Day would bring if Grant came to the dance on Saturday. Would he even want to sit with her? Would he dance with her?

That thought sent a little tingle up her spine, but she shifted her thoughts away from it to ask, “Does anyone want to doggie-sit tomorrow?”

After all, wasn't that what family was for?

 

 

“Tell me about your next staging project,” Nana suggested the next morning.

“How do you know I have one?” Caprice teased. She wanted to let Lady romp around a little before she left so her cocker would settle down for Nana. Though she'd never tell her grandmother that. Nana would be outraged at the thought that she couldn't handle her granddaughter's pet.

Nana pulled a toy from the wicker basket by her sofa, sat on her couch, and wiggled it at Lady. Lady scampered to her, ready to play. So much for letting her romp so she was ready for Nana!

“You are a businesswoman. You always have your next project lined up.”

Actually, she tried to schedule four to five jobs ahead. “My next theme is Sherwood Forest.”

Lady gave a wiggle as she tried to pull the braided colorful rope from Nana.

“I like that. Brings to mind Robin Hood and Maid Marian.”

“The serving staff will dress in period costumes. Nikki and I haven't come up with the menu yet but it will be very Old English.”

“How did you come up with the theme?”

“The house is in a forested area by the old mill. But the idea really came to me when I spotted the gigantic treehouse at the rear of the property. The boys who lived there even had a heavy rope to lower themselves to the ground.”

“What are you decorating with?”

“I used lots of earth-tone fabrics, chair swings that are really comfortable, rustic shelves. The house is stone and cedar-sided, practically encased in oaks, sycamores, and silver maples.”

“Copper pieces would make nice accents along with pewter.”

Caprice considered that. “I'd found wooden crocks and vases but I do believe you're right. I think I have a primitive copper tray in my storage unit as well as pewter steins. I'll have to check my inventory list.”

“And the family?” Nana inquired.

“They're moving to Hilton Head. They're tired of Pennsylvania winters.”

“Oh, so now they can run from hurricanes,” Nana said acerbically as Lady stopped pulling and just stood her ground.

Letting Lady have the toy, Nana caught Caprice's gaze and held it. “Do you think Bella and Joe are mending their marriage? She doesn't talk to me like she talks to you.”

Nana was the family overseer in a quiet way. She kept tabs on them all.

“I think they're on the right track. Sessions with Father Gregory have really helped them communicate.”

“Yes, I noticed that. But does Bella still keep things from Joe? Is he just trying hard for our benefit or for his?”

Those were questions Caprice had asked herself. “I don't know, Nana. But I do think they're both trying. And they both adore Benny.” She really did have to get on the road. One thing more before she left. “How's Mom?”

“She's grieving. One of these days I'll suggest she pull out her old photo albums, and she'll have a really good cry. That will help. Maybe we can start a special fund at the Garden Club for a scholarship for a young person interested in flowers or plants. That will give her thoughts a positive place to fall.”

Lady gave a little yip, rolled on her back, and gazed up at Nana.

“You want a treat?” Nana asked.

Caprice smiled. Spoiling was something grandmothers did best.

 

 

Hearts, flowers, chocolates, plants, and a touch of antique glassware would put the finishing Valentine's Day touches on the model homes that Derrick Gaste-naux had built and was now attempting to sell. There had been a few hiccups with the ceramic tile experts and the landscapers that had put finishing the homes behind schedule. They'd gone on the market right before Christmas, definitely not a prime time to sell. However, through Caprice's staging efforts, she'd actually garnered business for future stagings.

During this weekend over Valentine's Day, the houses would have real estate agents present all day Saturday and Sunday. There had been an extensive ad campaign as well as social media coverage. Derrick had pulled out all the stops. Caprice had already been paid for her contracted staging effort but she felt invested in the homes. Sales contracts on these houses would almost guarantee her more work when Derrick developed the land more completely.

Hence she pulled up to the first model home, switched off her van's engine, and got ready to unload those extra niceties that could convince prospective home buyers that they could live here.

This development was part of a new neighborhood that would expand and grow. The problem with these newer neighborhoods, in Caprice's estimation, was that they didn't have tall trees already growing, or stately bushes out front. The landscaping with ornamental evergreens and unusual grasses was pretty but she much preferred mature oaks, ivy climbing up brick, hydrangeas that had survived many winters. Yep, she was old-fashioned in a lot of ways because she didn't think “newer” was necessarily better. Yet there was something to be said for a family starting a life in a house that had never been lived in, with brand-spanking new roofs and siding and a picturesque gas fireplace instead of a sootier wood-burning one.