The Case of the Cupid Caper

by Kathi Daley

  “I have ham and cheese sandwiches, coleslaw, and potato chips.” I held up a bag.

  “Sounds good. I’m starving. Extra mayo?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hot mustard?”

  “Yes.”

  “One slice of Swiss and one slice of cheddar?”

  “Yes. I’ve known you long enough to know how you take your sandwiches. I asked for pickles on the side and shredded lettuce.” I looked around the room. “The problem I see is that your desk is covered in paperwork, as is the table in the conference room. Where do we eat?”

  “I’ll clear a section of the table in the conference room. Grab a couple of colas out of the machine while I clear a space to eat.”

  Perhaps, I thought to myself as I headed toward the vending machine, we should have just eaten at the deli. It hadn’t been crowded when I’d stopped by to pick up the food, and the tables weren’t covered in paperwork.

  By the time I returned with the drinks, Cass had cleared one end of the long table. I took everything out of the to-go bag and distributed it. “So, how is your day going so far?” I asked conversationally.

  “It’s going fine. Even though I have a suspect in jail who has confessed to both murders, I’m still not buying it, so I’m unofficially continuing my investigation into the deaths of both men. The tech guys were finally able to get into Dale’s laptop, although at this point, I’m not sure that doing so is even necessary. I’ve spent much of the morning going over Mayor White’s calendar and phone records. It appears as if the man had been busy in the weeks and months preceding his death. Not only was he actively working with investors, developers, and large hotel and resort chains, but he’d conducted an internal audit of every town employee, subcontractor, and vendor. In my opinion, it looked as if he planned to clean house and bring his own people in.”

  “It sounds like the guy angered a lot of people. If Lissa is innocent as you suspect, how are you going to narrow it down?”

  Cass took a bite of his sandwich. “I’m not sure. At least not yet. We discussed the fact that Gavin Hildebrandt had reason to hate the guy after he destroyed the business that had been in Gavin’s family for generations. I spoke to Gavin, and while he is about as teed off as I have ever seen him, I didn’t get the sense that he shot the guy, and I see no reason for Lissa to protect him.”

  “And Walter Bowman? It sounds like White messed up his deal to sell the pharmacy.”

  “He’s angry,” Cass admitted. “And Lissa does know and like the man. Walter told me she sometimes comes in and chats with him, and he also told me he spoke to an attorney about a possible lawsuit. By the end of the conversation, I really felt that, while he wanted payback, he had a plan to get his due using the legal system. I really don’t think he’s our guy either. I also spoke to the man who holds the contract for the local garbage removal. Apparently, White was looking at ways to terminate his contract as well, but he has a long-term agreement that won’t be up for renewal for years.”

  “Any other vendors or subcontractors affected by the guy’s housecleaning plan?” I asked. I could see how White must have upset the apple cart big time by looking to replace the men and women whose businesses had served the town for years.

  “Several. My plan is to work through everyone and see if I can figure out who was affected by White’s policies and has the personality to actually shoot the guy. Of course, it’s possible that the person who shot Frank wasn’t a vendor or subcontractor. He made the town council member’s lives pretty miserable, and I hear the town’s staff was threatening to quit in mass if the guy wasn’t leashed.”

  “How many people work directly for the town?” I asked.

  “Actually, just a handful. Margo, as you know, is the town clerk and is on the town’s payroll. There are a few others, such as the public works director, but this is a small town, so the staff is minimal, and most positions are contracted.”

  It really did seem as if Cass had a big job ahead of him. It was going to be hard to figure out who, in a town full of individuals who wanted the guy dead, actually killed him.

  Once we’d finished eating, I headed toward the elementary school to pick up Paisley. I usually picked her up Mondays and Wednesdays since her friend, Anna, had after school activities on those days, and it wasn’t convenient for Anna’s mother to give her a ride.

  “So, how was school?” I asked as soon as she climbed in the car.

  “Fine.”

  “Fine? Your tone says otherwise. Did you have trouble with your math test?”

  She huffed out a breath. “No. The test was fine. I didn’t get my grade yet, but I think I got an A. I felt like I knew all the answers.”

  I pulled out of the drive and onto the road. “Well, that’s good. I know how hard you studied. Is there something else giving you problems? You just don’t seem your usual cheery self.”

  “It’s just that my friend, Giovanna Thorndike, is moving at the end of the week. Sometimes Anna helps Ms. Wendover in the classroom during lunch recess, and when she does, I hang out with Giovanna. If she moves, I’ll have to eat alone on the days Anna is busy.”

  “Thorndike? Do you know if Giovanna’s mom works as a bookkeeper?”

  She shrugged. “I’m not sure. I know she works in an office in her home, and I know she uses math to do her work because Giovanna is always telling me how her mother tells her how important math is and that we should pay close attention in class. Math is my worst subject, but I’m getting better with your help.”

  “Do you know Giovanna’s mother’s name?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “No. I don’t think she ever said. Can we get some ice cream? I didn’t like the hot lunch again, so I’m kind of hungry.”

  “If you didn’t eat lunch, then you don’t need ice cream. I’ll make you something to eat once we get to the house. Something nutritional.”

  Once we arrived at the house, I put some of Gracie’s leftover chili in the microwave, and then I called Cass. I remembered that the name of the woman who did the books for the town was Polly Thorndike. I wondered if Polly was Giovanna’s mother, and if she was, I had to wonder if the timing of her move from the area was more than coincidental.

  Cass wasn’t in his office when I called, and he didn’t answer his cell, so I left a message suggesting he check out the situation with Polly. Paisley had downed the chili and was asking for a second bowl, so I heated it up while I refilled her milk. The girl acted like she hadn’t eaten in days. Perhaps I should take some groceries over to Paisley’s grandmother when I dropped her off. Fruit, cereal, granola bars, and bags of diced veggies would be good snacks for a growing child on the days she didn’t come to our place after school. I really hoped Giovanna’s mother hadn’t shot Mayor White, but I did remember that he had been doing audits of everyone who worked for the town in any capacity, and as the bookkeeper, Polly might very well have had something to hide. Of course, I had no idea why Lissa would confess to a murder Polly committed, but the more I thought about it, the clearer it became to me that Lissa liked to be in the middle of things. Could she have confessed to two murders simply to get the attention she craved?

  “Have you been practicing the song we worked on last week?” I asked once I’d left my message for Cass.

  “Every day. I think I’m ready to learn a new song today.”

  “Okay,” I agreed. “Let’s hear how the one you’ve been practicing sounds, and then we can pick out something you’ve been asking to learn.”

  We spent the next two hours in the attic sharing the music we loved. I really enjoyed these sessions with Paisley, and I could tell that the lessons were the highlight of her week. Often times, I asked Paisley to stay for dinner, but I had my bowling date with Cass this evening, and Gracie didn’t seem to be around, so I took Paisley to the market instead. We picked out a selection of items she could either microwave or make herself, and then I took her home, where her grandmother was waiting for her in the living room. I knew Paisley’s gra
ndmother loved her and really wanted to be the guardian she needed, but she’d been having health issues, and I wondered how long the arrangement would continue to work out. Of course, Paisley wasn’t a baby. She was actually a very capable young girl, and I knew that, while her grandmother acted as her guardian, it was often Paisley who made sure that the house was cleaned and food made it to the table. Perhaps I’d look into hiring part-time help for the pair. A housekeeper coming in a couple of days a week and casseroles made up and only needing to be heated might actually help quite a lot.

  When I arrived at the bowling alley, neither Gabby nor Cass was there yet. Gabe was working the counter, so I greeted him and asked to rent a lane for an hour. I also needed to rent shoes and pick out a ball. Cass had his own, so I figured I’d get set up while I waited.

  I wondered if Gabe knew that Gabby was his date, or if like Gabby, he’d simply been told that someone would come in and mention Ms. Cupid. I remembered that Gabe had asked Gabby out in the past, but that she’d turned him down, and I wondered if that would affect the date Ms. Cupid had set up between the two this evening.

  I had to admit that other than similar names that might become tedious at some point, Gabe and Gabby did seem like the perfect pair. I understood why Gabby might hesitate to become involved with someone she assumed was just a paperboy, but would her opinion of the guy change once she realized that he simply delivered newspapers to supplement his income as he built the business he’d worked and saved for?

  Cass still hadn’t shown by the time I’d changed my shoes and picked out my ball, so I decided to warm up by throwing a few frames. I would think if he was going to be late, he would have called, but he hadn’t texted or left a voicemail, and when I called his phone, it went straight to voice mail. We’d agreed to meet thirty minutes before Gabby was due to arrive so we’d be sure to be in place for the big reveal, but if Cass didn’t hurry, it looked as if he was going to miss the big moment.

  Gabby arrived before Cass did, so I paused and watched the moment unfold. She walked up to the counter and started chatting with Gabe. I couldn’t hear what she was saying, but I could see her expression, and it appeared as if she was surprised or possibly even confused. I noticed a look of anger cross her face, but then Gabe said something, and her expression softened a bit. Gabe really was a good looking guy who’d I’d always considered to be charming, and based on the way he seemed to be coaxing Gabby out of her sour mood, I’d say he’d turned up the charm big time. After a few minutes, he called someone over the handheld radio behind the counter. A woman walked out, he spoke to her, and then he took Gabby by the hand and walked her down the hallway where I assumed he kept an office.

  As grand reveals went, that one was sort of disappointing. I supposed I’d need to wait until tomorrow to see how Gabby felt the evening went. Cass still hadn’t arrived, and I really didn’t want to stay and bowl alone, so I decided to just head home. After replacing my ball and changing my shoes, I headed toward the counter to let the woman who’d taken over for Gabe know that I wasn’t going to need the lane after all.

  “Polly,” I said noticing her nametag.

  “Yes, can I help you with something?”

  “Polly Thorndike?”

  “Yes. Do I know you?”

  “My name is Callie Collins. I’m neighbors with Paisley Holloway. She happened to mention that she was friends with your daughter, Giovanna.”

  She smiled. “Sure. Paisley talks about you all the time. It is so nice how you and your aunt have taken her under your wing. The poor dear really needs that sort of stability in her life.”

  “Paisley mentioned that you’re moving at the end of the week.”

  She nodded. “I have a bookkeeping service, and until recently, my biggest client has been the town. I have other accounts such as the bowling alley and some other small businesses, but it was my contract with the town that paid my bills. Mayor White, may he rest in peace, decided that the town should have a full-time bookkeeper rather than contracting out, so he fired me, effective the first of this year. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do, but then my cousin, who lives in Tampa, told me about an opportunity with a tech startup, so I applied. I start in two weeks. I’ll miss my friends in Foxtail Lake, but I’m excited to start this new chapter in my life.”

  So, it looked as if Polly wasn’t the killer, and it also looked as if Cass wasn’t with her as I’d assumed. If not with Polly, then where was he?

  I chatted with the woman for a few more minutes and then headed out to my car. Something was wrong. I could feel it in my gut. Cass wouldn’t stand me up without a call or text unless he was incapacitated and unable to call or text. I knew I needed to find him, but I had no idea where to look. I supposed I’d start with his office and then head to his home if he wasn’t there. If he wasn’t in either location, perhaps I could track his phone or his vehicle or something. Not that I actually knew how to track either, but I did know someone who could.

  Chapter 18

  “Callie, what are you doing here?” Dean Simpson asked. Dean and his brother, Martin, were tech billionaires who lived on a gated estate in the area.

  “I need a favor. Will you ring me in?” I said into the monitor at the gate. “It’s Cass. I think he may be in trouble.”

  The gate buzzed, and I drove in. When I arrived at the front door, both brothers were waiting for me. They escorted me in and asked how they could help.

  “Cass and I made plans to go bowling tonight. We were supposed to meet at the bowling alley at seven, but he never showed. I’ve tried texting and calling, but his phone goes straight through to voice mail. I know he was investigating the two recent murders, and I’m really worried.”

  “Okay, let’s have a seat, and you can go through everything,” Dean suggested.

  I explained everything I knew to date about the investigation into both Dale Conover’s murder and Frank White’s. I explained that Lissa Nixon had confessed to both murders, but Cass was sure she was lying, so he was continuing to investigate both murders as independent events. I also explained that when I found out that the woman contracted to keep the books for the town was moving, it occurred to me that perhaps she’d been the one who shot White, and her moving was actually an escape. It sounded like a weak theory now that I was explaining the whole thing, but at the time, I’d suspected that she had been skimming off the top and White might have discovered it during one of the audits he seemed to have been subjecting everyone who worked for the town in any way to. I also explained that when I’d called and told Cass about my theory, he felt that, at a minimum, it deserved additional research, so when he hadn’t shown up at the bowling alley, I just assumed he was interviewing Polly. But then, I’d seen Polly at the bowling alley and knew Cass hadn’t been with her as I’d suspected. The question was, if he wasn’t with her, then where was he?

  “Can you track his phone or his vehicle or something?” I asked with a slight hint of desperation in my voice.

  “We can,” Martin answered. “But before we do, are you absolutely certain that Cass isn’t simply following another lead?”

  “Absolutely certain, no. But it isn’t like Cass to stand me up or not call if he’s going to be late or can’t make it. If he was able to, at the very least, he’d have texted.”

  “Maybe his phone is dead,” Dean suggested.

  “Maybe. And maybe Cass has been shot and is bleeding in the gutter somewhere. We can play this maybe game all day, but it seems to me that if we can track Cass using his phone or his vehicle’s GPS, we should. If he is simply busy with an interview, we can apologize later for disturbing him.”

  Martin looked at Dean, who shrugged. “Do you have Cass’s phone number?” Martin asked.

  I gave him the number and then followed the men downstairs to their bat cave where they kept their most valuable computers. Waiting for them to do their thing was nerve-racking, but at least it didn’t take long.

  “Cass’s cell is here.” Martin pointed to
a map on the wall.

  “Where is here?” I asked, looking at an area that didn’t appear to be developed in any way.

  “The main highway is here,” Martin trailed his finger along a dark line. “And the lake is here.” He pointed to the body of water.

  “I think Cass’s home is about here.” I pointed to a spot. “There is no road behind the cabin, which is where it appears Cass’s phone is. I guess I’ll have to take a look on foot.”

  “It’s pitch black and cold as an iceberg,” Dean pointed out.

  “I can’t wait until morning. Cass might be with his phone. He might be hurt.”

  “Can’t drive,” Dean said.

  “Maybe we can,” Martin countered.

  Before I knew what was happening, the brothers had changed into arctic wear and, after lending me a coat and boots two sizes too large for me, we set off on snowmobiles. I had no idea where we were once we left their estate, but I was riding behind Dean, and he seemed to know exactly where he was heading. Even with the heavy boots and jacket, it was freezing, but Dean’s body helped to block the wind created by the snowmobile as it wove its way through the forest. It wasn’t until we reached the lake that I was able to get my bearings. When I noticed Cass’s house, I suggested we check there to be sure. Milo was inside, and his truck was in the drive, but there was no sign of Cass anywhere. Snowmobile tracks were leading away from the house. Dean suggested we follow them since it appeared they were heading in the same direction as the signal we’d received from Cass’s phone.

  “It looks like there’s a hunter’s shed up ahead,” Dean said after we’d traveled through the woods for a while, and he’d stopped his machine and taken off his helmet.

  “We should walk from here,” Martin suggested.

  I was eternally grateful for the borrowed boots as I stepped off the machine and into the deep drift of snow.