Shades of Wrath Read online

  “I’d like to find out more about co-housing.”

  “Basically, it’s cooperative living. We’re not self-sustaining like many co-housing communities, but we help out each other when we can. I’m sure Sebastian can tell you all about it. He’s the one who developed the mission statement.”

  “I look forward to it,” Caprice said.

  As Wendy walked Caprice out of the kitchen into a smaller dining room and then a much larger one, Caprice began envisioning the colors she would use to warm up the house as well as the groupings of furniture she’d select that would invite conversation. This project could easily consume her.

  She smiled to herself. It was exactly the kind of project she liked best.

  * * *

  Caprice would have loved to have taken her dog, Lady, along to the Wyatt estate, but she hadn’t known what she’d find there. She also hadn’t known whether Wendy liked dogs or not. So she’d asked her neighbor Dulcina if she’d watch Lady while she took care of business. Now as she climbed the steps onto Dulcina’s porch, she couldn’t help thinking about Warren Shaeffer and his anger toward Wendy . . . and Wendy’s obvious fear.

  However, when Dulcina opened the door, Caprice forgot about her experience at the Wyatt estate. Halo, the tortoiseshell stray cat who’d been pregnant when Dulcina had adopted her in July, wound around her legs. Halo’s seven-week-old tortie kitten, Miss Paddington, and Caprice’s cocker, Lady, chased each other through the living room.

  Caprice couldn’t help but laugh. “How do you get any work done?”

  “They were all napping until about fifteen minutes ago. Then Paddy decided she wanted crunchies and the gang all woke up.”

  Mason and Tia, Halo’s other two kittens, now came racing into the living room too. Halo was a silver-haired tortie with tabby-like stripes and golden spots of coloring. Her firstborn was Miss Paddington, who had a unique tortoiseshell split-color face—tan and gold on one side and dark brown on the other. Her body was likewise defined. Mason, a gray-striped tabby with a white chest, was the boy in the bunch, and as rowdy as could be. Tia, third-born, had fur that displayed striking tortoiseshell colors and lots of white. A princess, she usually held herself above the fray. But not this evening. They were all joining in.

  Caprice stepped inside, careful to watch the screen door so no fur babies escaped.

  “Coffee?” Dulcina asked.

  “Sure. I have time.”

  The kittens and Lady continued their chase, but Halo followed Caprice into the kitchen. She was becoming quite attached to humans. No one knew her whole story. Caprice’s Uncle Dom had found her when he was pet-sitting for a client. Caprice had captured her and taken her to her veterinarian, who surmised Halo had been in an accident. She had a slight limp and he suspected a broken bone had healed. Dulcina had decided to take in Halo, even though she’d been pregnant. The birth of the kittens had been a joy to watch and experience. They were seven weeks old now, and Caprice had some good news for Dulcina.

  As Dulcina set to brew two mugs of coffee in her single-cup brewer, Caprice asked, “So, do you think Tia and Mason are ready for their forever homes?”

  “If I can find good ones,” Dulcina answered, sounding worried. “A couple of people have asked me about them, but I just didn’t feel they were right. Not real cat lovers, know what I mean? I almost feel like I have to do background checks and home studies.”

  Caprice laughed. “They’ve been your babies as well as Halo’s since they were born. Of course you’re invested in their welfare. But I might have a solution.”

  “You know two cat lovers?”

  “I know one cat lover, and wouldn’t it be good to keep Mason and Tia together?”

  “It would! Who do you have in mind?”

  “My Uncle Dom. He’s living in his own place now, and he’d like to adopt the kittens. He does bookwork at home for a few clients, and when he pet-sits, the two of them could keep each other company.”

  “Doesn’t he housesit too? What would happen during those times?”

  “He’s already thought of that. I told him I’d bring them to my place.”

  “Wouldn’t that be a riot with your two cats and Lady? I suppose I could bring them back here too.”

  “I know he’d love Tia and Mason and care for them as if they were his kids. But it’s your decision to make. Don’t feel pressured because I suggested it.”

  “Before I make any decision, he should meet them. I’d like to see him interact with them. Do you think he’d come over for a visit?”

  “I’m sure of it.”

  Dulcina and her uncle had met in the summer when they’d all attended an Ace Richland concert together. In fact, Dulcina had been dating then. But she’d broken up with Rod.

  One of the mugs had finished brewing and Dulcina set it in front of Caprice at the table. “Pumpkin spice.”

  Caprice took a whiff and smiled. “Perfect for this time of year.”

  As Dulcina watched her mug of coffee brew, Caprice asked, “How are you doing?”

  “Thank goodness I have the kittens,” she said as the three balls of fur ran into the kitchen and tumbled over the cat bed Dulcina had tucked under the desk area of the counter. “Between work and them, I don’t think about much.”

  “Have you talked to Rod since your breakup?”

  “No, there’s no point. His girls were having a hard time accepting me dating their dad, and he was doing nothing to make the transition easier. Yes, they come first. But if I was going to interact with them, and we would eventually try to make a family, he needed to include me in their family life. He wasn’t doing that. He wouldn’t even discuss it.”

  “The concert didn’t help as it should have.”

  “No, it didn’t. His older daughter, Leslie, had her mind closed to Ace’s music even before we attended the concert. I think Vanna and I could have become friends, but Rod prevented us from trying. Even when they came over to visit the kittens, he wouldn’t let Vanna stay a little bit longer even though she wanted to. He could have left her here while he took Leslie to her activity, but he wouldn’t do it. That was the final straw for me. I understand his wife walked out on him, and he has trouble trusting women. But with that huge issue between us, we couldn’t form a real relationship.”

  “Were you ready for one?”

  “I thought I was. But my marriage to Johnny was unforgettably right. I’m just afraid I’ll never have my expectations met again. How are you and Grant doing? I know you had a rough patch this summer when he saw his ex-wife.”

  “He needed to do that.” Caprice was sure of it now, even though at the time she hadn’t been. “He and Naomi lost a child. That’s something both of them will deal with for the rest of their lives. He’s been sharing more with me about what they talked about and what he felt, and we’re becoming closer every day. I love him, Dulcina. I’m all in.”

  She’d known Grant Weatherford, her brother’s law partner, since he and her brother were college roommates. Divorce and tragedy had brought Grant to Kismet to find a new life and join her brother in his practice. She and Grant had had their ups and downs, but he was now the love of her life.

  Dulcina nodded. “That’s the way it should be if your relationship is going to last.”

  Mason chased Tia over to Caprice’s chair; then he climbed up her pant leg and ended up on her knee, looking up at her.

  “You’re just too adorable and you know it,” Caprice told him.

  He meowed at her, a squeaky little meow that he was growing into.

  Dulcina just shook her head. “They make me laugh and they fill me with joy. Just call me or text me when your uncle wants to visit. You know me. I’m flexible.”

  Caprice liked to think she was too. “I’ll check with Uncle Dom and see when he’s free. I know he’s anxious to make his new place a home.”

  For some reason, Caprice’s mind wandered once more to the Wyatt estate. Had that mansion ever really been a home? Her objective would be to tu
rn it into one for women who sorely needed a place of warmth and stability.

  * * *

  On Thursday morning, Caprice stood at the door to Sunrise Tomorrow, the original facility. Wendy had received her proposal for decorating the Wyatt estate and had a few questions that she wanted to talk over in person. Caprice said her name through the intercom and waved at the camera. She recognized the security camera setup as one that accompanied her own alarm system. The shelter had to be careful whom they let through its door. Caprice did, too, when she was involved with solving a murder. Not so long ago, danger had come calling.

  Wendy opened the door herself, wearing a smile. “Come on in. We can talk in my office.”

  The original facility for Sunrise Tomorrow was very different from what Wendy wanted to accomplish at the Wyatt estate. This building had once been an assisted living facility that had gone bankrupt. Wendy had rounded up a group of investors and taken on the challenge of turning it into a shelter with rooms where women could spend the night. An office area had been utilized for day-to-day administration. Caprice walked through a small reception area and around a large desk where a receptionist sat to monitor not only who came in and out, but what was going on inside too. The inside of the shelter could use a little polishing. The furniture was looking shabby. But she wasn’t here to talk about that today.

  She suddenly stopped as she spotted a woman who came from a back hall and walked through the reception area to the other wing. Caprice recognized her. Alicia Donnehy . . . and she was carrying a stack of what looked like just-washed laundry.

  As if her high school classmate could feel Caprice’s eyes on her, Alicia stopped and glanced over her shoulder. She didn’t wave or say hello. A shuttered look came across her face and she turned toward the direction where she’d been headed and continued walking.

  Alicia had been on the committee with Caprice to plan their high school reunion in July. What was she doing here? She was carrying laundry. Did that mean she was a volunteer? If so, why?

  Caprice’s curiosity had gotten her into a lot of trouble . . . from childhood to the present day. She’d always asked questions that had baffled her teachers, stumped her priest, and amused her parents. Now the implications behind seeing Alicia here were serious.

  Caprice hurried to catch up with Wendy and noticed a woman rifling through Wendy’s file cabinet. She turned when Caprice and Wendy stepped inside.

  Wendy said, “Lizbeth, this is Caprice De Luca. Caprice, this is Lizbeth Diviney. She’s my second-in-command and can answer questions when I’m not around. She’s going to be the director of the new facility once it’s up and running.”

  Lizbeth was a redhead with a pixie hairstyle. She was only five foot two and as slender as Caprice would like to be. In a quick movement, Lizbeth pulled a folder and shut the file drawer. Then she shook Caprice’s hand. “It’s great to meet you. I’ve heard good things about your work.”

  She waved the folder at Wendy. “I’ll get right on this.” In the next moment, she was gone from the office.

  “She’s high energy,” Wendy said with a smile, and motioned Caprice to a chair.

  Wendy’s desk held stacks of papers, but otherwise the space looked feminine with its flowered chairs and pin-striped wallpaper. Wendy didn’t waste any time. “Your proposal makes a lot of sense to me and I agree with ninety percent of it. The other ten percent has to do with the grand salon at the mansion and your bunk bed idea for two of the rooms upstairs. I’m thinking of having a partition divide the grand salon into two rooms. Two workshops could be conducted at the same time that way.”

  “No problem there,” Caprice agreed. “Do you want them decorated the same way, or do you want two different designs?”

  “Even though I have the money with the legacy, I’m not going to splurge. Let’s keep them both uniform. That’s more economical, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, it is. And the reason you don’t want the bunk beds?”

  “I don’t want these rooms to have a prison-cell feel. Bunk beds could suggest that, don’t you think?”

  “I proposed the bunk beds because it would give residents more room for a sitting area or double desks. Those rooms upstairs are anything but small or cell-like, and of course the decorating would make all the difference. Light, airy draperies and coordinating bedspreads would never give a jail atmosphere. But again, that’s up to you.”

  “Let me think about it.”

  Wendy had pulled a list in front of her along with Caprice’s proposal that she’d printed out. They went over several more items.

  Wendy was an easy client to work with because she seemed to take Caprice’s suggestions, and Caprice had no problem compromising to give Wendy exactly what she wanted.

  “I suppose you’ll have volunteers working at the transitional facility too,” Caprice said finally.

  “We count on our volunteers,” Wendy agreed. “And the women who’ve been helped by us want to give back.”

  “Are your volunteers all women who’ve needed to take refuge in the shelter?”

  Wendy didn’t hesitate to answer. “They usually are. The truth is, most people don’t want to get involved, not with anything that has to do with domestic violence and protective orders.”

  “I can see that.”

  She again thought about Alicia and wondered if her best friend, Roz, knew Alicia better than she did. Roz had been on the reunion committee too.

  Wendy glanced up at the clock hanging on the wallpapered wall. “I have another meeting in fifteen minutes. I think we’ve covered everything.”

  Caprice rose to go.

  Wendy snapped her fingers. “I forgot to tell you that you’re most welcome to bring along Grant Weatherford to dinner on Saturday. Rumor has it that the two of you are dating.”

  “We are,” Caprice answered. “I’ll ask him and see if he’d like to come along. He might be interested in the co-housing concept, too, and enjoy talking to Sebastian.”

  Wendy’s phone rang. She held up her finger to Caprice and picked it up.

  Caprice waited.

  Even three feet from the phone, she could hear an angry voice on the other end and it sounded male. Wendy seemed to take a bolstering breath; then she slammed down the receiver without saying a word.

  “Trouble?” Caprice asked.

  “Trouble we often get here.”

  “An angry husband?”

  Wendy just nodded. Then she said, “That’s one of the reasons why a state-of-the-art alarm system as well as security cameras are a must for the new facility, no matter what the cost. I’d like to have a few inside, too, in the public areas. Do you think you can come up with inventive ways to disguise them?”

  “My family insists I can be very inventive.”

  Wendy gave Caprice a weak smile. “It’s coming together, Caprice—all of it. I’m determined to keep these women safe from anyone who intends to do them harm.”

  Wendy’s vehemence came from more than a desire to do good, Caprice suspected. Maybe someday soon she’d find out what had driven Wendy into this life’s work.

  Chapter Two

  “Co-housing is simple really,” Sebastian Thompson told Caprice and Grant on Saturday evening as he took another bite of the vegan casserole Wendy had baked.

  Caprice wasn’t sure how the casserole was going over with Grant, who was pretty much a meat and potatoes man, and a dessert enthusiast too. But when they’d arrived at Sebastian’s house, Wendy had given them a brief tour around the modest two-story Colonial and then informed them that supper would be all vegan but good vegan.

  Caprice had laughed at Grant’s expression, knowing he probably thought those two words together were an oxymoron. But he was being a champ about it, eating everything Wendy put in front of him. Or maybe he was really enjoying the couscous with cranberries and walnuts, the broccoli casserole with cheddar and garbanzo beans. But she doubted it.

  Grant, who had been listening intently to Sebastian—a tall, thin man with a n
arrow nose and a receding hairline—responded, “I don’t know if anything can be simple when a community has to agree on the decisions. I have enough problems with negotiations with two people.”

  This time Wendy chimed in. “The difference is, Grant, our community all wants the same thing. We have a wonderful mission statement that says it all.”

  “Just how does the co-housing work?” Caprice asked.

  “Mainly, we keep in touch with each other. We have meetings once a month and rotate the houses where we have them. I don’t know if you saw that pavilion in the middle of all the properties, but we use that in the spring, summer, and fall for barbecues once a month. The point is, we know what’s going on with each other,” Sebastian explained. “If, for instance, Mrs. Rawlins, who’s sixty-five, moves in and needs someone to cut her grass, a neighbor does it for her. If someone is sick and goes into the hospital, neighbors pitch in with meals and child care. In fact, we do have day care in the neighborhood. One of our neighbors, Melissa Stonehouser, takes care of children in her house.”

  “So what you’re saying is—you’re one big family, sort of like families were a long time ago. You help each other out when you need it,” Caprice concluded.

  “Exactly,” Wendy said with a nod. “There are additional perks, of course. We have holiday events, open houses, progressive dinners.”

  “What happens if someone doesn’t want to participate?” Grant asked.

  “Someone who doesn’t want to participate wouldn’t have moved into this neighborhood,” Sebastian answered easily.

  Sebastian’s two boys, Kevin and Cody, who were fourteen and sixteen, hadn’t said much during the meal. Now the older one, Cody, chimed in, “It’s like we all have a pact here to help each other.”

  A pact, Caprice thought. A pact usually consisted of secrets as well as loyalty. What kind of secrets did this neighborhood hold?

  The Rottweiler—black with brown patches—at Kevin’s side rounded the table and came to sit by Caprice’s chair. She patted him on the head and directed her attention to the younger son. “Is he allowed to have anything from the table?”