Slay Bells Ring (A Caprice De Luca Mystery Book 7) by Karen Rose Smith

Author:Karen Rose Smith [Smith, Karen Rose]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington Books
Published: 2017-10-31T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Ace Richland knew how to throw a party. Especially at Christmas, he went all out. His daughter, Trista, had a lot to do with that . . . and when Caprice saw Ace with his arm around his ex-wife, Marsha, she wondered if Marsha did too.

He’d asked Nikki to cater the bash for him, and she’d pulled out all the stops. She’d baked a cake shaped like a Gibson guitar decorated in red and green. Ace had mentioned a few Italian dishes in reference to his background that Nikki had provided, from ravioli to lasagna to caprese salad. Loaves of garlic and Parmesan cheese bread graced the baskets that sat atop the holly-decorated embroidered tablecloth. Other desserts included cannoli and tiramisu. For anyone who wanted lighter fare, there was chocolate gelato.

Caprice had worn a sixties-style red dress with black trim around its round neck and a black inset lining its long bell sleeves. This dress was short with a full A-line skirt that came just above her knee. Black, strappy pumps completed the outfit.

Grant looked at her now as if he’d never seen her in red before. “Have I told you how pretty you look tonight?”

She smoothed her hand down the lapel of his charcoal pin-striped suit. “Have I told you how handsome you look tonight?”

He dropped his arm around her shoulders and led her into the crowd in Ace’s living room. Caprice recognized Ace’s manager standing near the dais where Ace and his band would perform in a little while. She waved to his parents across the room who reminded her so much of her parents though a bit older. Ace’s brothers and sisters-in-law were there too.

Marianne Brisbane, a reporter who covered everything from parties like this to murder investigations, sidled up to Caprice. She said, “Not to be a downer at a Christmas party, but we haven’t talked since Chris Merriweather was murdered. Are you involved?”

Grant just raised an eyebrow.

Marianne smiled. “Uh oh. I guess you are, and he doesn’t want you to be. Nothing new there.”

“I’m not involved . . . exactly,” Caprice responded.

Grant made a sound that told Marianne that he didn’t agree. “She had a conference with Brett Carstead and she gave him information. I’d say that’s involved.”

“I’ve heard all sorts of rumors swirling around,” Marianne said. “Is it true Chris Merriweather had a son in Ho Chi Min City?”

“That’s not something you should write about,” Caprice warned.

“So, it is true.”

“That’s personal, Marianne, and has nothing to do with the investigation,” Caprice said more forcefully.

“Are you so sure about that?” Marianne asked. “If anyone knew about it, there could be all types of motives.”

“Don’t let your imagination run wild,” Grant said, backing up Caprice.

“It had to be something personal,” Marianne contended. “He certainly didn’t keep cash in the Santa’s cabin, and nobody would want to steal letters to Santa Claus.”

“Are you sure?” Grant asked.

Marianne looked determined. “I know for a fact the police went through all the letters. I do stay informed. Someone got really angry with him and hauled off and hit Chris Merriweather with one of those candy cane stakes.

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