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Cut to the Chaise Page 6


  Vince must have had a list of questions in his head because he asked next, “Where did the argument occur?”

  “We were in Travis’s office in the winery.”

  “Did anyone overhear?”

  Looking worried, Michelle shook her head. “I don’t think so. I think all the employees were gone by then.”

  “But you don’t know for sure.” Vince’s words were a statement, not a question.

  “Not for sure,” Michelle admitted.

  Michelle addressed Caprice this time. “I asked you to sit in because I want your help in figuring out who killed Travis. I know you and Grant can’t want the suspicion of murder hanging over my head at the time of your reception. Will you help me?” There was a pleading note in her voice and maybe one of fear too.

  Before Caprice could answer, Vince jumped in. “Grant won’t like it if you do.”

  Caprice said factually, “My guess is Roz doesn’t like you helping either.”

  Vince’s face turned a little ruddy.

  “This is Grant’s wedding reception too,” Caprice told Vince. “He’s going to want this cleared up as much as I do.” That was one reason she should help, but there was another. She needed to do it for Vince and Roz’s sake. The sooner the murder was solved, the sooner Vince and Michelle would have no connection.

  “I’ll help you any way I can,” Michelle said. “Ask me any question you want. I really have nothing to hide.”

  Famous last words, Caprice thought.

  “I’m going to need you to think about a place to start,” Caprice directed. “I need to know anyone who you think would be a possible suspect. You can think about it this afternoon and e-mail me tonight. Can you think of anybody off the top of your head, besides of course, Fred Schmidt?”

  “Fred was a gentle soul who only cared about making good wine.”

  “Even when he was fired? Did he threaten Travis?”

  “From what I heard, he was pretty angry,” Michelle confessed. “He went toward Travis with his fist raised and Neil stopped him.”

  Suspect number one, Caprice thought. A cheese knife wasn’t a heavy weapon to wield. “Anyone else off the top of your head?”

  Michelle was thinking about Caprice’s question when the doorbell sounded through the house. “Excuse me,” Michelle said, standing and exiting the parlor into the marble-floored foyer.

  Caprice could only see Michelle’s back. When Michelle opened the door, she straightened and froze.

  “Jarrett! What are you doing here?” Michelle’s voice was filled with surprise and maybe dismay.

  The Schnoodle darted in the door, obviously taking advantage of no one keeping him out. Michelle turned to see where the dog had gone but Caprice noticed her face had gone pale, and she looked . . . stunned.

  “Do you want me to catch him?” Caprice asked.

  “No, he’s probably headed for the kitchen. Nancy’s in there making lunch. She’ll give him something to eat.”

  “Do you want me to take him to my vet to have him scanned and see if he has an owner?”

  Michelle shook her head. “I was going to do that, but then everything happened. Give me another day or two.”

  The gentleman at the door wandered in. He looked to be about Michelle’s age. He was dressed in pressed khakis and wore a Ralph Lauren shirt. His loafers looked like Italian leather. He had dark-brown hair, parted to the side and gelled a bit, but not so much that it looked like a fifties style or fake. His handsome features reminded her of somebody . . . and then Michelle made who he was very clear.

  “Pardon my manners,” she said to all of them. “Caprice and Vince, this is Jarrett Dodd, Travis’s brother.”

  From the look still present on Michelle’s face, Caprice knew this brother was going to be one of the suspects too.

  Chapter Six

  The following morning, Caprice, her mom, and Nana had been paging through an album of floral bouquets at Posies Flower Shop for a half hour. Along with Jeanie Boswell, the florist, they discussed flowers for the church as well as for the reception.

  “I want it all to look vintage,” Caprice reminded them. “Yet I’d like the flowers to complement my color theme of floral pastels for the reception.”

  “Maybe we should have waited until Bella and Nikki could join us here,” Nana suggested.

  “I think we’re going about this all wrong,” her mother said. “You’re looking at all these photos and getting confused. Just tell us what you want in your bouquets.”

  Thinking about Travis’s murder in spite of herself, Caprice tried to concentrate on flowers. What did she like best? “I like roses,” she said. “But I’d like something more unusual to put with them to make the bouquets and arrangements unique.” Caprice looked toward her Nana. “When I say vintage, what flowers come to your mind?”

  “That’s easy for me,” Nana said. “When I think of vintage I think of roses and peonies. I’ve always had them in my yard. They’re in your mother’s yard now.”

  “I never thought about peonies.” Caprice looked at Jeanie. “Would they be possible?”

  “Anything is possible,” Jeanie said with a smile. She pulled a scrapbook from the shelf behind the counter. “This is my personal scrapbook of favorites that I’ve found in magazines or online, even in advertisements. I want to show you one particular arrangement for the unity candle. I imagine you’ll be using that at St. Francis?”

  “Yes, we will,” Caprice said.

  Jeanie paged through her scrapbook until she came to what she wanted. Then she turned the book around and placed it in front of Caprice. “Take a look at that arrangement as a whole. Think about roses and peonies replacing the mums and using Queen Anne’s lace for the white-and-frill aspect.”

  Studying the arrangement, Caprice could easily envision her wedding bouquet. “How about pale pink peonies and white roses in my bouquet? For my bridesmaids, we can use pastel colored roses—yellow, lavender, pink, and white. I can see a white rose boutonniere for Grant and maybe lavender for the other groomsmen.”

  “I can picture it,” her mom said. “I think your flowers will be unique and very pretty.”

  “For the unity candle, I’d use the pink peonies and white roses, Queen Anne’s lace, and ferns,” Jeanie explained. “The other table arrangements can be a combination of those and pastel roses.”

  “And how about white tulle bows on the church pews?” Jeanie asked.

  “I like that idea,” Caprice agreed. “I’ll have to check this all out with Nikki, Bella, and Roz when I can reach them. They didn’t come today because they said the flowers were my choice. The bridesmaid dresses are florals and different styles in the same pastels.”

  Nana and her mom exchanged a look. Her mom said, “About the table arrangements. Are you sure you don’t want to change your venue from Rambling Vines to somewhere else?”

  “Oh, right,” Jeanie said, “because of the murder there.”

  Caprice sighed and explained her reasoning for keeping the reception at the winery. “The murder was in the tasting room. The reception building is separate. Besides, I don’t think it’s right to take business away from Michelle if she’s innocent.”

  “If she’s innocent?” Nana asked.

  “After speaking with her, my gut tells me she is,” Caprice said. “But that’s certainly not proof. She’s going to have a hard enough time keeping the winery afloat without me taking business away. Besides, there aren’t any other venues available at this late date. Our wedding is only three weeks away.”

  Her mother patted her elbow. “It’s your choice and Grant’s. We just want everything about your wedding to be perfect.”

  “Nothing is perfect, Mom. You know that. Grant and I decided no matter what happens, no matter who trips over what, or who spills what or who ruins what, our vows are what matter. Being happy that day is what matters. I don’t want to be nervous about my dress or my shoes or my veil. I just want to think about starting my life with Grant.”
r />   Nana gave Caprice a hug. “That’s the way it should be. Why don’t you see if you can get hold of your bridesmaids right now? Then we can order exactly what we want.”

  Moving her scrapbook back to the shelf, Jeanie turned toward the counter once more. “Who will be overseeing your flower order, and who will be at the wedding venue in order to receive it?”

  “Nikki will be checking on the flowers with you and making sure everything’s there.”

  “She’ll be handling the catering too,” Nana reminded Caprice. “Are you sure that won’t be too much for her? I can certainly go over the flower order with Jeanie.”

  “I think Nikki is going to let her assistants handle the catering. She knows exactly what we want and she trusts her staff. But she will be checking on everything as soon as Mass is over and she arrives at the winery. So it would be great if you could handle the flowers, Nana.”

  “Before you make a final decision on the flowers,” Jeanie said, “will the mother of the bride’s dress, the mother of the groom’s dress, and your Nana’s dress all tie in?”

  “Mine is rose-colored,” Fran said. “No problem there.”

  “And mine is a beautiful aqua,” Nana chimed in. “It will fit in with the pastels.”

  Both her mom and her Nana looked toward Caprice. Finally her mother asked, “What about Grant’s mother?”

  “She hasn’t found a dress yet,” Caprice told them. “Their town in Vermont doesn’t have a bridal shop so she needs to go farther afield.”

  “In a way that’s good,” Nana commented. “You can tell her your color scheme and she can either fit in or not. She shouldn’t have a problem finding a dress in a spring color. You’re making this easy with the pastels.”

  “I know what Caprice is thinking,” Fran whispered to Nana.

  “What am I thinking?” Caprice asked warily.

  “You’re thinking that nothing might be easy with Grant’s mother.”

  “Mom—” Caprice had a warning note in her voice. Grant’s mother wasn’t anything like her own mom. Caprice’s parents were emotive and huggers and good communicators. Grant’s parents were, well, reserved. Caprice didn’t know how his mother would take the news of a color scheme, but she’d never know if she didn’t call her and tell her.

  “I think I’ll call Grant’s mom before I call Nikki and Bella and Roz. Then there won’t be any mistake about exactly what we want to order.”

  Caprice knew if anything went wrong with this wedding, it would have something to do with Grant’s parents not liking what she and Grant had planned. Grant’s father had already told him that adding the addition onto her house wasn’t the best idea. He believed Grant should pick out the house and they both should live in it. Thank goodness Grant’s ways weren’t his dad’s.

  It might be a good thing his parents lived in Vermont and she and Grant would live in Pennsylvania.

  * * *

  That afternoon, as Caprice drove up the winding drive to the winery, she peered out at the fencing, the green grass, the grapevines already starting to produce. Even the house, tasting room, offices, and reception hall fit in with the surroundings. How could a place that looked so peaceful be a setting for a murder?

  She was hoping she could find out more about that with Michelle. She didn’t want to put a time cap on this visit, but she was supposed to meet Juan to discuss another house staging. She trusted him when he placed orders for rental furniture as well staging a house, but he always wanted her final okay. He insisted that was because she had a different touch than he did.

  She supposed that was true. She’d brought her van today in case they needed all of her sample books. She’d told him what she was doing this morning, and he said to text him if she was going to be late. He really was the best assistant.

  Caprice spotted the Schnoodle penned on the sunporch at the house. He was napping in a bed that easily fit him. Instead of disturbing him, Caprice walked down the brick lane to the front door.

  When Michelle answered the door, she looked as if she hadn’t slept. She invited Caprice inside to the same parlor where they’d sat before. “I have to let Nancy go,” she said. “I’ve given her two weeks’ notice.”

  Caprice remembered that Nancy was the Dodds’ housekeeper and cook.

  “You can’t pay her salary?” Caprice guessed.

  “Travis was the one who wanted her here. It doesn’t make sense to have a housekeeper for just one person, let alone a cook. I know how to cook perfectly well. It was just that Travis said he liked Nancy’s dishes better than mine. She’d been his father’s housekeeper and Travis had known her since he was a teenager. It’s not as if I’m turning her out in the cold. One of my friends is going to hire her. She has two kids and Nancy will love that. I’m sure she’ll be happier there.”

  “It’s nice of you to find a job for her.”

  “She’s been here for years. I couldn’t just let her go with a minimal severance package. This way she’ll have severance and a new gig. Would you like coffee or iced tea?”

  Caprice shook her head. “No, I’m fine. Thank you. Did you make a suspect list for me?” Michelle had never e-mailed her names.

  Michelle leaned back in the black leather club chair. “I didn’t need to make a list. I have the names in my head. But it’s not like I know anything for sure.”

  Caprice took her electronic tablet from her purse. “I understand that. Just tell me your thoughts and we’ll go from there.”

  “The first person I thought of was Neil.”

  “Travis’s CFO?”

  Michelle nodded. “There has been tension between Travis and Neil over the past few months, but neither would talk about it.”

  Caprice tapped in Neil’s name. “Next?”

  “I’m more sure about this one,” Michelle noted. “Our closest neighbor hasn’t liked being in proximity to the winery since we built the events room. He’s especially been protesting about increased traffic on the rural road. He even took his complaints to the town council. The traffic might bother him but I think there’s a bottom line to his thinking.”

  “Something to do with the winery itself?”

  “Oh, yes. He doesn’t drink, and he doesn’t want anyone else to drink either. He definitely doesn’t approve of our dance events whether it be square-dancing or ballroom dancing. What puts him high on my list is that he monitors his property carefully and he has a shotgun he pulls out if anyone trespasses on his land. Andrei Moldovan has been a widow for a long time and he’s gotten crankier and crankier each year. If he came over here to confront Travis and they got into an argument, I can easily see him reaching for the cheese knife in a rage.”

  Caprice typed an asterisk next to Moldovan’s name. He definitely had to be looked into. “Anyone else?”

  Michelle wouldn’t meet her gaze.

  “Michelle, I can’t help you if you’re not honest with me. I saw your expression when you opened the door to Travis’s brother. What caused the shock?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Family matters usually are.”

  With a sigh, Michelle met Caprice’s even stare. “Jarrett has always been the prodigal son. Travis was the one who, from a young age, was involved in the wine making business and wanted to be.”

  “Jarrett wanted no part of the business?”

  Michelle shook her head. “I don’t think he did. Still, he didn’t want to flat out tell his father that.” Michelle’s fingers tapped on the arm of her chair as if she was restless . . . or anxious. But she continued with, “Jarrett left home after college to backpack through Europe. He used the excuse that he wanted to experience vineyards there. The truth was, he was never really interested in making wine. After Europe he moved to Hawaii, worked in a restaurant and surfed. He kept in touch with Travis on and off, a call at Christmas, that type of thing. He usually didn’t hold a job longer than a year.”

  “I hear a ‘but’ coming,” Caprice determined.

  “Everything chan
ged after William died. I don’t know if Travis asked Jarrett to come home or Jarrett volunteered on his own. But in their dad’s will, they both inherited the winery. Neither of them realized that their father had been sinking all of his money into the winery for years and not getting a decent return. Since the two of them were in it together, they made the decision to take the cash they’d inherited and rejuvenate the wines and the winery. William did have stocks and bonds and a retirement account. But after a year of working with Travis, Jarrett had had enough of the business and he was ready to roam again.”

  “No reason to stay? Or was there an inciting incident that made him want to leave?” Caprice guessed.

  Michelle’s eyes misted a bit. “Oh, there was an inciting incident all right. After a rough day of Travis being difficult to get along with while I worked on the PR and event planning, Jarrett was comforting me. Travis walked in and accused Jarrett of making a pass at me which wasn’t true. That day, Travis decided to buy Jarrett out so the winery would be his and his alone. He sold one of his restored cars, mortgaged the property, and made a settlement with Jarrett without consulting me.”

  “Was that usual for him not to consult you?” Caprice was beginning to get a picture of a man who liked to be in control of everyone around him.

  “Yes, it was usual for him to make decisions without me, at least after we were married for about a year.”

  Caprice circled back to what she wanted to discuss. “Let’s get back to Jarrett. Did he and Travis part on friendly terms?”

  A deep male voice suddenly interrupted the discussion. “My brother and I were never on friendly terms.” Apparently Jarrett had come down the stairs and overheard what they were saying. Caprice hadn’t realized he was at home, but certainly Michelle had known that. Was there a reason she hadn’t told Caprice?

  No matter. Now she could question Jarrett herself. She motioned to him. “Come on in and join our discussion.”

  Jarrett appeared to be more curious about her than defensive. “Michelle told me about you. You help the police solve murders.”