Deadly Décor (A Caprice De Luca Mystery) Page 18

  Nikki bumped shoulders with her, as she’d often done since they were kids. “Just look at you. Seth will fall at your feet.”

  That was an overestimation if Caprice ever heard one, but she had to admit, the dusky pink reproduction of a 1920s flapper dress was exquisite. It was hand-beaded in glass beads with gorgeous embroidery and layers of beaded fringe.

  “You’ve never been up for an award before, either. You’re a successful entrepreneur. You have to dress like one.”

  “It’s not too much?”

  “Turn off that Catholic guilt, Caprice. It’s not too much. It’s perfect. I’m sure Mom has some vintage jewelry that will look perfect with it.”

  “Nana might,” Caprice mused, thinking of the aurora borealis crystal beads her grandmother sometimes wore.

  Her thoughts turned to what Nikki had said about being a successful entrepreneur. With hard work and perseverance Nikki had become successful in her catering business—Nikki’s Catered Capers—just as Caprice had become successful with home-staging.

  So Caprice asked her, “Don’t you ever feel like maybe you’re just a little too fortunate. Don’t you ask why our businesses are thriving when so many others aren’t?”

  “That maybe we deserve a little hard luck?” Nikki asked with a scowl. “No. It’s not like any of what we have was given to us. Sure, we got some help along the way, and we have supportive family behind us. But we’ve worked hard. You know that. I think you’re doubly afraid because you saw your home-decorating business almost go down the tubes before you switched to home-staging. But that’s the whole point, Caprice. We have to be adaptable.”

  “And not only in business.”

  “You’re thinking about Seth and the fellowship?”

  “I can’t stop thinking about it.”

  At least when she was analyzing murder suspects, she was distracted from the idea of Seth leaving. However, she hadn’t learned one little new tidbit at the park today. She wondered if Grant had been more successful.

  Caprice’s purse sat on a shelf by the dressing-room door. Now her cell phone played, and she wrinkled her nose at it. But she hardly ever let it go to voice mail when she could reach it. So she grabbed the purse and fished in it for her phone. When she plucked it out, she put it to her ear. It was Denise Langford.

  “Hi, Denise. What’s up?”

  “Ace bought the house! Not only that, he wants you to redecorate a few of the rooms, as well as the pool area. He’s having a party soon. Can you meet him there at three-thirty?”

  “That was quick.”

  “Apparently this man moves fast when he knows what he wants. Fortunately, there’s no reason why he can’t. So can you be there at three-thirty?”

  Ace wanted her to redecorate for him. She could get a hefty commission from that. She smiled. “I’ll be there.”

  Ending the call, she dumped the phone in her purse and grinned at her sister. “I’m taking the dress. How would you like to meet a real rock star face-to-face?” Ace and Nikki hadn’t been introduced when he’d stopped in at the open house.

  With some excitement, Nikki accepted Caprice’s invitation to accompany her, although she asked, “Do you think Ace will mind?”

  “I don’t think so. Besides, it will be great to have another pair of eyes looking around with mine. I have the floor plan for the house, and I know practically every square inch because of staging it. But you might spot something I don’t.”

  “Just like you send recipes my way?”

  “Sure, if I think they fit the staging. We’ve always been a team, haven’t we?”

  “Always,” Nikki agreed.

  At three-thirty on the dot, Caprice stopped at the gate to the estate, then climbed out of her car and punched in the security code. The black wrought-iron bars spread apart slowly.

  “Do you think Ace will hire a security team?” Nikki asked her once she was back inside her Camaro.

  “It’s possible. This place is going to need a staff.”

  To Caprice’s surprise, Ace himself answered the door. She introduced Nikki, and he shook hands with them both. “It’s good to see you again.” He studied Caprice. “Do you think I need to change the code on that gate?”

  “That would probably be a good idea. Will you be hiring a security team?”

  “Do you think I need it? Won’t the cameras themselves keep intruders away if they see they’re being taped.”

  “Kismet usually isn’t a high crime center, and you’re out of the way here. But there was a murder recently at the community center, and word will spread one way or another that you’re in Kismet, even if you tried to hide the transaction of buying a house and your address.”

  “Yeah, but I’m not thirty and hip anymore. I don’t think anybody’s going to break in and ravish me.”

  Caprice’s lips twitched. “Maybe not. But because you live on an estate this size, because of who you are, someone might think you have valuables in here.”

  “Did you know Sumpter had a temperature-controlled room with a steel door for his art collection? I don’t have anything like that.”

  She did know. But of course she hadn’t told anyone about it.

  Ace pointed his finger at her. “You’re like a priest, aren’t you? Clients tell you things and you don’t leak a word. I like that.”

  “She’s one of the few members of our family who can keep a secret,” Nikki offered. “At least she usually can . . . when it’s not about a member of the family.”

  Caprice elbowed her, knowing Nikki was referring to Bella’s pregnancy, and turned back to Ace. “Are you keeping any of the Wild Kingdom theme or do you want to redo the whole place?”

  “Actually, I think Wild Kingdom suits me.” He grinned, and his grin still carried a powerful punch. “It’s probably why I bought the estate. I want this party to happen fast. I’ve hired an event planner. I’ve used her before and she’s good.”

  He studied Nikki. “Denise told me Caprice’s sister did the catering at the open house. Are you that sister? Trent said the bison meatballs were the best.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Good. I’ll give your name to Alyssa, my event planner. Maybe you can fit my party into your schedule.”

  He started walking, and it was easy to see he was a person with high energy who liked to make use of it. “The first thing I want you to redo is the pool area. I want bigger tables with colorful large umbrellas around the pool instead of those little ones. Give me color in the chaises, and of course I’ll need a lot of chairs. Bright color there too. There are enough animal prints inside.”

  She didn’t want the pool area to be garish or decorated in something that would clash with the inside. Her mind started clicking with ideas. “How about if we give the pool area a Sea World theme? Inside is kind of wild creatures on land. Outside could be wild creatures of the sea. I can go with bright blues and greens, and incorporate some black and white to coordinate with inside.”

  They were standing on the patio now, and Ace stared at the pool and the surrounding area as if he were trying to imagine it. “Not bad for off the top of your head. You are good.”

  “I try to be,” Caprice gibed.

  Ace laughed. “I’ll leave the details up to you, and Alyssa, of course. Maybe you can consult with her. She’ll handle laser and holographic lighting over the pool, that kind of thing. How about the pool house?” He quickly headed that way. “What do you suggest there?”

  A few minutes later, he threw open the door and they peeked inside. Caprice stepped over the threshold. There was a daybed with a tawny gold coverlet, club chairs in tan leather, a powder room, and two dressing cubicles. A wet bar seemed out of place, but there it was. On one wall, a grouping of framed prints told a story about the African veldt.

  “Do you want this space to match the pool area?”

  Ace nodded. He also waved to the wall above the daybed. “Can we do something different in here? I get tired of pictures and metal sculptures.” He was o
bservant and obviously cared about his surroundings.

  Caprice studied the space once more, particularly the wall he’d pointed to. She remembered her conversation with Sharla Flannery at the community center fund-raiser. “What would you think about a mural on that wall? Maybe of dolphins? I can possibly find someone to paint it for you.”

  Ace narrowed his eyes and squinted at the wall. Then he nodded. “I like that. Yeah, go for it.”

  “We have to talk about a budget,” Caprice said.

  “We will. But I have to show you everything I want you to do first. There’s one room upstairs that’s going to be special.”

  He didn’t say any more until they’d made their way inside and up the staircase. He stopped at the room next to the master suite.

  Caprice wondered if he was going to put up a paramour there. After all, he did have a reputation in that area. Right now, the room was staged with a brass bed covered with a green patterned comforter.

  “This will be my daughter Trista’s room,” Ace explained. “Here’s what I want. I want a canopy bed and white furniture. Do lots of pink and frills on the bed and at the windows too.”

  Caprice thought that sounded more like a bedroom for a four-year-old than an eleven-year-old, but she didn’t know Ace’s daughter.

  “I don’t want you to spare any expense. It has to be ready in time for the party. Trista will be here with me then, and so will my parents. It’s going to be one big open house, not a wild party, so keep that in mind.”

  “Do you have any idea when you’re going to have this party?”

  “I’m thinking August nineteenth.”

  Caprice went still, and Nikki gave her a look. “You want me to do all this in ten days?”

  “Is that a problem?” he asked, with an amused, quirked brow. Apparently he snapped his fingers and what he wanted immediately happened.

  She’d have to put other projects on hold, contact Danny, check into suppliers, and expedite delivery on everything. But she could do it. She would do it.

  “No problem.” She turned to Nikki. “Are you free on the nineteenth?”

  Nikki laughed. “You’re lucky, Ace, I’m free. What kind of menu are you thinking of?”

  “I want it good. I want it tasteful. I want plenty of help here. Hire who you have to. Just be sure you can trust them not to sell photos to the paparazzi.”

  “Got it,” Nikki assured him.

  “Got it,” Caprice repeated, wondering how she was going to arrange everything in ten days.

  One of the things Caprice had learned was that when she was busiest, that was when she needed to take deep breaths. She dropped Nikki at her house so she could pick up her car, then she spent some time with Shasta and Sophia, giving her feline an extra rub of catnip on her scratching post. While she did that, she let her mind pull ideas from wherever she could find them. The Cupcake House was closed on Saturday evening. Fortunately, she found Sharla’s home phone listing and reached her there. Caprice ran her idea by her, and when Sharla approved, she spoke with Danny.

  “Are you interested in a job where you’ll get paid for your art?”

  Silence met the question until finally he asked, “Seriously?”

  She might be taking a risk with Danny, but not just anyone could paint designs on sneakers . . . or a mural. Her instincts told her this was a risk worth taking, for both her and Danny. “Did you ever hear of Ace Richland?”

  “The music guy?” Danny asked.

  “That’s one way to put it. Yeah. He bought a place outside of Kismet, and he needs a mural on his pool house wall. I was thinking the ocean, dolphins, something like that.”

  Again there was silence. “This would be a wall like at the community center?”

  Could she count on a seventeen-year-old to pull this off? Thinking again about Danny’s talent, she realized, yes, she could. “Yep. Are you interested?”

  “What’s the money like?”

  She named a sum.

  Danny whistled. However, he asked warily, “What’s the glitch?”

  “It has to be complete before the nineteenth.”

  Finally he said, “It’s a good thing I don’t have school. I’d have to cut class.”

  Caprice smiled.

  “Do you want to see a sketch first?”

  “That would probably be best so Ace knows exactly what you’re going to do. Is that the way you work?”

  “I can. I’ll work on it tonight and have it for you by tomorrow.”

  “That sounds good. Call me when it’s done, okay? I’ll pick it up.”

  “I will, but . . . Miss De Luca, why are you doing this for me?”

  She didn’t hesitate. “A couple of reasons. One of them is that I like your art. The other is, I think you’ll like Ace. From what I hear, he didn’t feel like he fit in anywhere when he was a teenager because of his music. He had brothers, but they weren’t into it. His music kept him out of trouble.”

  “Okay,” Danny said, understanding her broad hint. “I’ll call you.”

  After Caprice ended the call, she fed Shasta and Sophia, then told them both, “I need some exercise to wind down. I’ll feel better about myself, and it will get my energy up for next week. So you girls have to entertain yourselves for a couple of hours. But I’ll be back soon and we’ll snuggle, okay?”

  Shasta barked. Sophia licked her lips and started eating.

  Caprice swung her duffel by her side as she entered Shape Up, remembering her conversation with Patrick. Was Jeff Garza involved in Bob’s murder? She’d called Vince about him, and her brother was supposedly looking into the businessman—his background and financial dealings. Would he uncover anything?

  In the locker room, as she slipped off her shorts and top, revealing her swimsuit, she realized she liked coming in here on Saturday night the best. The gym was busy, though not as busy as during the week, and the pool was practically deserted. She was grateful for that. She really didn’t like an audience. The pool closed at eight, so she had forty-five minutes to swim laps.

  She tied her hair back in a ponytail so it was out of her way, slipped on her swim shoes, grabbed her water goggles, and headed into the pool area. The humidity was high. Out of the water, the atmosphere was almost stifling. She’d just gone down the steps and decided to use the end lane when the lifeguard waved at her and came around the pool. She knew Brenda. The teenager had graduated from high school in the spring and had been one of her mom’s students. She’d been thrilled about her job here.

  She said, “I have to go to the laundry room and take the towels from the dryer. It hasn’t been working right, and I’m afraid it’s going to burn them. Will you be okay?”

  Caprice had been swimming since she was a kid and was comfortable in the water. “I’ll be fine. I’m just going to swim laps.”

  “I won’t be long,” Brenda assured her.

  Caprice slipped her goggles on and adjusted them. Then she pushed off from the edge of the pool and began her lap session.

  Swimming laps could almost be hypnotic. Although physical exertion was involved, after a few laps gliding through the water almost became a Zen experience. She reached, she breathed, she kicked. Momentum pushed her forward.

  On her third lap, she suddenly felt pressure on her back . . . something pushing her deeper under the water.

  That pressure again. Harder now . . . and it hurt!

  It took a few moments for her to realize something out of the ordinary was happening. She was in the deep end, and she couldn’t simply let her feet drop to the pool floor. In the deep end . . .

  She panicked. She tried to do anything to get away from the debilitating push on her torso. She couldn’t raise her head out of the water. Her breath was running out. Instinctively, she twirled and ducked deeper, slipping out from under whatever was pressing her down.

  Gasping, she rose to the surface. When she did, she heard the clang of the door.

  Had someone just tried to kill her?

  Chapter Fou
rteen

  Someone had tried to kill her. Someone had tried to kill her. Someone had tried to kill her.

  Holding onto the rail along the side of the pool, Caprice caught her breath and attempted to calm down. Her back not only hurt from the pressure, but it burned, too. Had she been cut? Adrenaline still raced through her body, and she suspected if she hadn’t been holding onto the rail, she’d be shaking.

  Hand over hand, she pulled herself along the side of the pool until she stood in the shallow end.

  She heard the door leading to the gym area open and close.

  Brenda appeared, carrying a stack of towels. When she spotted Caprice leaning against the side of the pool with her head down on her arms, she ran over and asked, “Are you all right?”

  Caprice shook off the remainder of her panic and fear. She had to find out who’d tried to drown her!

  “Do you know who was in here with me, Brenda? Someone came in while I was swimming . . .” She stopped.

  Brenda gave her an odd look. “Someone came in to swim?”

  Caprice wasn’t sure what she should say. Maybe it was better not to say exactly what had happened. “Someone came in. Do you know who it was?”

  “I didn’t see anyone. I was in the laundry room the whole time. Paul was helping one of the clients. So was Netta.”

  Thinking more clearly now, Caprice checked at the side of the pool, looking for something in particular. The skimmer was usually propped near the corner, but now it was lying next to the edge of the pool. Shape Up personnel used it to fish out small floaty hand weights or toys from a kids’ class that floated out of the shallow end. They sometimes used it to guide someone who was suddenly afraid of being out in the middle of the pool over to the side. The basket that hung at the end of it was made of some type of net material. The pole attached to the basket was about six feet long. The end of that pole near the basket could have been used on her back to push her down and hold her. Something on the skimmer must have scraped or scratched her.

  Goose pimples prickled all over her arms, and if she let herself, she’d go into full panic all over again. But she wouldn’t let herself. First she asked Brenda to check the workout area and ask if anyone had been seen coming into the pool.