Deadly Décor (A Caprice De Luca Mystery) Page 10

  Susie Q’s, a sports bar near the community center, was frequented by a lot of the single men in town. Her brother told her guys often stopped in there for happy hour just to get a glimpse of the skimpy outfits the waitresses wore.

  “You’re looking for another suspect, aren’t you?” Isaac asked over the rim of his mug.

  “I’m considering who might have had a motive to kill Bob.”

  “Is Bella really in trouble?”

  “We don’t know yet. I’m hoping not.”

  “Lucky you have a lawyer in the family.”

  Yes, it was, and Joe was lucky that Grant was on his side.

  “Have you heard many rumors about Bob himself ? Maybe stuff he was into? Stuff he shouldn’t have been into?”

  Isaac thought about it and shook his head. “Not really. I was a little surprised about the rumors about him and Bella, though. He’s dating a pretty redhead.”

  “You mean Jackie at Connect Xpress?”

  “Oh, so you know about her.”

  “I get around.”

  “So you do,” he acknowledged with a wry grimace. He motioned to the case with the pearl and garnet ring. “Can’t talk you into that ring?”

  “Not today. And I’d like to chat longer,” she said. “But . . .”

  “You’ve got animals and work, and maybe a hot date?” he asked with a wink.

  “Seth works almost as much as you do. That doesn’t leave a lot of time for hot dates.”

  “Tell him about the ring,” Isaac advised her. “I’ll keep it in my safe instead of in the case for a while.”

  “Isaac—”

  “I rotate my inventory. You know that. No reason it has to go in the case this month. After all, garnets are January’s birthstone. And the pearl? Well, June has passed, hasn’t it?”

  She laughed and set her coffee mug on the side table. “Come on. Let’s get started looking at the furniture. I have a feeling this could take a while.”

  And it did. It was almost 4 p.m. when she left Isaac’s. She adjusted her Bluetooth earpiece, dialed Bella’s number, and headed home. Caprice thought Bella’s phone was going to go to voice mail, but her sister answered.

  She didn’t say hello, but rather opened with “Mom told me you’re up for an award. Congratulations.”

  There wasn’t much oomph behind Bella’s good wishes, and Caprice absolutely understood the reason. In Bella’s situation, how could she be happy about anything?

  “Thank you. I’m up against some great women. But it’s an honor to be in the running.”

  “That’s a politically correct statement if I ever heard one,” Bella said. “You can save that for the press. You want to win, I know you do. You’ve got a competitive streak, just like Vince.”

  That was possibly true, but she wouldn’t admit it. “So how are you and Joe?”

  “It’s so quiet in this house, my ears are ringing. If it weren’t for the kids, I don’t know what I’d do. He thinks I had an affair with Bob.”

  “Oh, Bella. Why won’t he believe you?”

  “Because I often tell little white lies so he doesn’t disapprove. Or I just don’t tell him things at all—like about the pregnancy, at first, and the money in my shoe. I mean if he were perceptive at all, he would have realized I wasn’t making all those kids’ costumes just for the fun of it. But he never even asked, and that’s because he’s not interested in what I do.”

  Caprice didn’t argue with her sister because she knew in part that it was true. Joe cared about what Bella did only as it affected him. Weren’t most people like that? Weren’t most husbands like that? She hoped not. Come to think of it, her father wasn’t like that.

  Seth wouldn’t be like that.

  Don’t even think it. You’re not anywhere near thinking about him as husband material.

  Bringing her attention back to the situation at hand, Caprice asked, “Did you talk to Joe about that coupon?”

  “No. It’s just too tense here, Caprice. If I ask him about that, he could blow up and walk out.”

  “But he wouldn’t stay gone.”

  “You seem to be more sure of that than I am.”

  “He’s not going to throw away all the years of marriage he has with you.”

  “I’m not so sure of that, either. Maybe he never really wanted to get married in the first place. Maybe my pregnancy then was a trap, like this one is now.”

  Bella was going down a really negative road, and Caprice didn’t know how to turn her around. “Do you want me to come over? We could cook. I could play games with the kids.”

  “That sounds nice, but having you here could ruffle Joe’s feathers even more.”

  Caprice wanted to shake some sense into Bella’s rooster. Maybe he needed a few head feathers clipped. “Can I give you some advice?”

  Asking permission might not help because Bella didn’t take advice easily. However, she didn’t seem to know which way to turn and maybe she would listen today.

  “What is it?” Bella asked warily.

  “You can’t live your life for Joe. Maybe part of the problem is that you’ve always tried to please him. Right now, you have to do what’s going to make you feel better and what’s going to keep your kids protected and happy.”

  Silence stretched for at least five seconds as Caprice veered into her neighborhood.

  “I make life convenient for him,” Bella said weakly.

  “Yes, you do. But life isn’t convenient right now for either of you.”

  “I can’t talk to him,” Bella erupted. “He has this frozen expression on his face, and his shoulders are all rigid and his hands are balled into fists.”

  “Then write him a letter. But whatever you do, think about your happiness and the kids, and whatever’s going to get you through this. If he’s not going to support you, you still need support. I’m here, Bella, and so are Nikki and Vince, Mom and Dad, and Nana.”

  “Oh, Caprice.”

  She heard Bella’s voice break. She hadn’t intended to make her sister cry, but she had to know she was loved. “Take care of yourself and call me if you need me.”

  “I will.”

  Caprice ended the call and knew she couldn’t just sit around and watch everything fall apart, not when her family was involved. She’d go home, give Shasta a few runs around the yard, feed her and Sophia. But then she was headed to the casino. It occurred to her that nosing around was one of the things she did best.

  Two hours later, Caprice had found a slot in the parking garage of Hollywood Casino. She’d devised a plan on her way here. First, she needed a member’s card. All casinos had them now. She doubted if there were casinos in which patrons still used actual coins in the slot machines.

  Before she’d stepped into the elevator, she could smell cigarette smoke along with lingering perfume. She knew both would be strong downstairs. She piled into the elevator with two couples who wore smiles and were chattering among themselves. One couple looked to be about as old as her parents. The second couple might just have topped the forty-year-old hill. The casino really was a playground for all ages.

  She’d heard that during the day it was mostly the over-fifty crowd who enjoyed the bells and whistles the casino had to offer. But at night, the casino drew a mixed crowd.

  After the ride down, the elevator door opened. Walking through the casino entrance, Caprice spotted slot machines. The cushioned seats at each machine were emblazoned with HC on the back. The machines made a ding-ding-ding sound while music played in the background and conversation swirled all around.

  Caprice looked up toward the ceiling, two stories above. Fake trees with lighted globe lights reached upward. Straight ahead, she saw a towering statue of a galloping horse and rider. To her left, more slot machines dinged.

  A security guard stood at this entrance, and Caprice asked, “Can you tell me where I’ll find the service desk?”

  The guard motioned straight ahead and told her she couldn’t miss it.

  No, she co
uldn’t.

  She didn’t have a long wait because the process was efficient, and soon she had a card on a bungee-like cord. This card would enable her to earn reward points that she could use for everything from restaurant meals to gift shop goodies. The pamphlet she’d received with her card told her she could also go online and check not only her reward points but also what she’d won and lost—for tax purposes, she imagined.

  There was a lot to explore. She had a plan, but before she decided what she was going to do next, she toured the place. The noise and lights and music were exciting. All persuaded adrenaline to flow. The geometrically patterned, jewel-tone carpet was eye-catching, as were the blinking lights and revolving, color-rich icons on the slot machines. She passed not only blackjack tables, but roulette, Texas Hold’em, and baccarat too. The room where the live poker games took place looked to be a serious endeavor.

  She’d never particularly liked slot machines. Playing them, she felt as if she were throwing her money away. So she watched those playing, took a spin around the gift shop with its retro memorabilia, and just generally found her bearings. She didn’t imagine that the pit bosses and the managers would like anyone asking too many questions, so she would have to be careful. There were lots of security cameras, after all, and she imagined everyone was watched closely.

  She had to think like Joe. No small feat.

  Although there were nonsmoking sections in the casino, the distinction was pretty much a moot point, considering that the smoking sections were right beside them. If Joe’s clothes had picked up the smell of smoke, this was a place where it could certainly have happened.

  She ignored the entrance that led outside to the racetrack and concentrated on the bar, which was as intriguing as the rest of the facility. High tables dotted the area, and ESPN was projected onto the domed ceiling.

  Caprice felt the need to take some kind of action. It was time to do something.

  She checked the casino register for the types of machines and found what she was looking for—the section featuring poker machines. For some reason, she imagined Joe might play there when he wasn’t headed for the more serious tables. He liked poker and often sat in on her dad’s games. If he was working up the nerve to drop some real cash, he might settle at those machines first . . . or after. It was a long shot, but she believed in long shots.

  Considering Joe’s stinginess, she was sure he would play in an area where drinks were served to patrons while they gambled. That narrowed down where Joe might sit to play.

  Taking out her phone, she scrolled through photographs, found the one she wanted, and marked it so it was handy. Then she extracted the bills she’d brought along to stake her. All the poker machines were occupied in the section where drinks were served, so she wandered to another section and smiled when she saw the Kitty Glitter slot machine. It was empty.

  What, no one here likes cats? She herself didn’t care much for numbers, bills, sevens, and gold bars, let alone cherries. But this machine, with its pictures of breeds of cats and so many ways to win, attracted her.

  She started with a dollar bill. What could she say? She wasn’t a big spender, not on slot machines. On her fifth push of the button, she won two dollars and forty cents. She was really getting into the spirit of it, was even two dollars ahead, when she knew she had to move. She needed to sit at one of those poker machines for a while, so one of the attendants would bring her drinks and she could chat her up. After all, that’s why she was here.

  She wandered about for ten minutes until one of the poker machines opened up. She slid onto the seat, intending to stay for a while. She played slowly between button pushes, reflecting on the tables she’d found at Isaac’s and where she’d place them in the log home. The attendant for her section brought her one soda, then a refill. And still Caprice played, slowly and carefully stretching out her funds. Each time the attendant brought her a drink, Caprice made small talk about the weather, about the crowd, about the music. From her badge, Caprice could see the server’s name was Pauline. The third time Pauline delivered a soda, Caprice was more than a woman sitting at a slot machine. They’d become friendly.

  “Can I get you another drink?”

  “I’m going to have to find a bathroom soon, but I don’t want to give up my seat,” Caprice joked.

  “You should have brought a partner along. Then you could switch off.”

  “My brother-in-law often comes here.” She slipped her phone out of her pocket and easily found the picture. Before Pauline could slip away, Caprice showed it to her. “Do you recognize him? He might even be here. With all the noise in here, he can’t hear me ringing his phone.”

  Pauline glanced at the photo of Joe and Timmy standing in their backyard. Even before Pauline said anything, Caprice noticed an expression of recognition on her face.

  She shrugged. “I don’t think he’s here tonight.”

  “But he comes in other times when you’re working?”

  Pauline eyed her suspiciously. “Why do you want to know?”

  “The truth is, my sister thinks he’s having an affair and I think he’s gambling. I’m not sure which is worse, but I’d just like to know.”

  Pauline looked uncertain.

  “I won’t say how I found out,” Caprice said. “I just need a little ammunition to give my sister so she can ask the right questions. You know what I mean?”

  “Let me get this soda for you. I’ll be back,” Pauline said, and Caprice wasn’t sure she would be. However, after she delivered her tray of drinks, Pauline brought Caprice hers. Setting it down, she said in a low voice, “I usually work evenings. He comes in a couple of times a week.”

  That’s all Caprice needed to know.

  Chapter Eight

  Caprice brought her van to a squealing stop a half block from Bella’s house. There was a patrol car parked in front, and the forensics vehicle was in the driveway. Bella had called her this morning practically screeching in panic.

  Bella and Joe stood on the front lawn with a grim-faced Vince. To her surprise, Joe was the one who told her what was going on in even, calm terms.

  “Detectives Jones and Carstead are in the house. They had a warrant. They’re searching for the murder weapon and anything else to incriminate us.”

  Although Joe’s voice seemed calm, Caprice heard the tension in it, saw the creases in his forehead, spotted the tense line of his shoulders. She looked to Vince for further explanation.

  “He’s right. They’re going through the garage with a fine-tooth comb. They also went through his toolshed. The van will be next.”

  Bella and Joe were standing about ten feet apart, one on either side of Vince. They weren’t looking at each other. They weren’t united in any way. They were like pillars in the sand, beaten by waves, leaning in opposite directions, away from each other.

  She had to help them somehow. She was pretty sure Bella didn’t want her marriage to fall apart. If her sister didn’t want it, Caprice didn’t want it for her, either. Joe might be a pain in the butt sometimes, but he was Bella’s pain in the butt, and a good dad to Megan and Timmy when he was with them.

  An hour later, the police vehicles were gone. Bella rushed inside the house to see what kind of mess had been made, and Vince went with her. Joe was slow to follow.

  Caprice decided talking to him first might be the best way to go. Instead of rushing in with Bella, she stood beside her brother-in-law and just waited.

  “They took two pairs of my shoes,” he muttered.

  “Maybe there were footprints at the scene.”

  “They took a couple of tools, too.”

  “Will they find anything when they analyze them?” she asked softly.

  “No!” Joe answered hotly. “They won’t find anything. I didn’t do it.”

  She waited a beat, then revealed, “I know you’ve been gambling at Hollywood Casino.”

  Joe’s head swung around, and all of his attention was riveted on her. “Just how do you know that?”


  “Does it matter?”

  His lips thinned into tight lines, and he dug his hands into his jeans pockets. He was all defiance and defensiveness and irate indignation, though Caprice had the feeling that something else was underneath all of that.

  “Joe, talk to me.”

  “Why should I? You’ll just spill everything to Bella.”

  “Maybe you should be spilling everything to Bella. Secrets between you right now can be as damaging as anything you’re not telling the police. Don’t you see that?”

  “She’s been keeping secrets.”

  “You mean saving money for a rainy day?”

  “I mean dating an old flame.”

  “She had coffee with him.”

  “Yeah, and what was she going to do the night he was killed?”

  “Did you ask her?”

  He stared at Caprice for a long time as if daring her to back down. But then he was the one who did. He looked down at the grass under his feet. “No. Maybe I don’t want to hear what she was going to do.”

  “Joe, Bella is pregnant with your baby, a baby she thinks you don’t want.”

  When he started to sputter, she held up her hand. “I’m just telling you how she sees this. You’ve been away late at night, and you come home smelling like smoke, and maybe liquor. I don’t know. Have you told her what you’ve been doing?”

  “I can’t.”

  “You’ve been seeing someone on the side?”

  “No!” he erupted again. “Of course not. My vows to Bella mean everything, and you should know that after all these years.”

  “If she doesn’t know it, how could I know it?”

  He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Things have gotten so messed up.”

  “What things?”

  He sighed with a resignation that seemed to make his whole body sag. “I went to the casino one night with some guys from work. It was a few months ago. I didn’t tell Bella because she and I hadn’t gone out in a long time. Money was tight. I didn’t want to get into a fight.”