The Case Of The Cupid Caper

Chapter 8

Friday

By the time Friday arrived, things had settled into somewhat of a regular pattern. Cass still hadn’t found the answers he’d been seeking that would definitively explain what occurred on the day Dale Conover died, but he had narrowed things down a bit. After a lot of searching, he’d finally figured out the name of the colleague Dale had been consulting with. After a long discussion with the man, he concluded that the patient with aggressive tendencies was probably not the person who killed him. The colleague refused to give Cass the name of the patient, due to confidentiality issues, but he did assure Cass that the specific behavior pattern most often exhibited by individuals similar to Dale’s patient were, more often than not, more bark than bite. Cass hadn’t completely removed the man from the suspect list, but he had moved him down to the bottom of the list along with someone associated with Clay Barrow.

Cass had also spoken to Lissa again, who assured him that her relationship with Dale was alive and well before his death. When asked about the fact that she had called him more often than he’d called her, she assured him that had more to do with his busy schedule than anything else. Cass admitted to me that while she seemed sincere when they spoke, he still hadn’t completely eliminated her as a suspect.

The fire marshal had submitted his report, stating that the fire had started in the office not far from where Dale’s remains were found and that an accelerant had been used to ensure that the fire would burn hot and spread rapidly. Cass had initially suspected a small explosion of some sort as the igniting event, but the fire marshal had not found evidence to support that theory.

Cass still hadn’t been able to access Dale’s computer, although he was still trying. The tablet had been unlocked successfully, but the password used to unlock the tablet failed to work on the computer. In terms of information gained from the tablet, there wasn’t a whole lot. Cass was able to access the contact list, but the list was one kept for personal reasons and not for business. There was a link to his personal email as well, which Cass had been looking through the last time I spoke to him, and there was a calendar with all his appointments. It appeared that Dale last met with someone named Tolley. Cass and I both suspected that Tolley was the last name rather than a first name, but so far, he’d been unable to find any corresponding paperwork relating to a patient with that last name. Of course, he hadn’t given up trying.

As far as I knew, Cass still had no idea why Dale’s car had been left in the back parking lot of the ski resort or how it had gotten there. The crime scene guys had dusted for prints, but the only prints to be identified were Dale’s and Lissa’s, so no surprises there.

As for the phone records, the blocked number had been disconnected, and there didn’t appear to be any other red flags to look into. Gwen was still working on assembling the burnt documents. There were a lot of holes that made many of the documents completely useless, but there were small pieces of information that needed to be followed up on, which left Cass scrambling. I’d spoken to him a few times since I’d last seen him on Tuesday, but he’d been too busy to get together for dinner or any other social event, so I hadn’t been able to have an in-depth conversation with him. Tonight was our shift at the animal shelter, so perhaps I could catch up with him then.

In the meantime, I had a story to file and a meeting with Dex about that story, so I supposed I should get up and get going. I felt like the second installment of the Ms. Cupid Caper was an engaging one. I’d interviewed several of her success stories during the week, which led me to the conclusion I’d reached at the beginning of this journey — Ms. Cupid seemed to employ some kind of Cupid magic that allowed for such a phenomenal success rate. So far, every single one of the clients Ms. Cupid had taken on had reported that the man or woman they’d been matched with really had been the perfect match for them, even Kim, who hadn’t actually been looking for a match.

“Morning, all,” I greeted Aunt Gracie, Tom, and Alastair after heading downstairs and into the dining area where they were sharing a large platter of pancakes. “Those look good.”

“There’s plenty if you’re hungry,” Gracie said.

I poured myself a mug of coffee. “I might have a couple. I have to meet with Dex this morning, but I have a little time before I need to leave.”

“How’d your column turn out this week?” Gracie asked. By this point, she knew Friday was my submission deadline.

“I think it turned out just fine. I still don’t have a clue who Ms. Cupid might be, but I’ve interviewed quite a few of the Ms. Cupid matches, and I think I have a handle on how the whole thing works.”

“Do you still think Ms. Cupid is someone living in Foxtail Lake?” Tom asked.

“Has to be,” I answered as I poured syrup on two pancakes. “The questions asked during the application interview are telling, but unless Ms. Cupid personally knows the people being matched, there is no way she’d be able to tell who would get along with whom from the answers, and she certainly wouldn’t be able to set up the seemingly perfect dates.”

“So why even ask the questions if she doesn’t use the answers to make matches?” Tom asked.

I frowned. “I’m not sure. I suppose the questions must have a purpose of some sort, but I simply can’t believe there isn’t more going into the matches than the answers to the questions. When I went through the application with Gabby, the questions were really random.”

“Such as?” Tom asked.

“Such as would you rather be a flower, shrub, or tree?”

Tom chuckled. “I guess that is pretty random.”

“The questionnaire asked about color preferences and that sort of thing as well, but it also asked the applicant for opinions about things that might actually come into play when entering into a relationship such as dream vacation, dream job, and fantasy date.”

“You know, I’ve always wanted to go somewhere exotic like Bali or Bora Bora,” Gracie said, I assumed in response to the question about a dream vacation.

“You can afford a trip like that, and you aren’t tied down with kids or a job. You should go.” I glanced at Tom. “I’m sure you can find a friend to go with you.”

“Oh. I don’t know,” Gracie said, although I could see that she was intrigued by the idea.

“I’ll be here to hold down the fort. And if Bali or Bora Bora seems like too big a commitment, start with something easy like Hawaii. That would be really doable, and there are flights to Hawaii from the Denver airport every single day.” I watched as Gracie appeared to be thinking about it. “Wouldn’t it be nice to get out of the snow for a week or two?”

She nodded. “It would at that.” She looked at Tom. “How about it? Are you interested?”

He shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind some warmer weather, but it’s already February. How far in advance do these things have to be booked?”

“For a trip to Hawaii, you could probably go in a couple of weeks,” I informed the couple. “Let me do some research on your behalf. Is there an island you might particularly want to visit?”

“I guess Kauai,” Gracie said. “That’s where they have all the jungles and waterfalls you see on TV.”

“Okay. I’ll look into it, and we can talk again tomorrow at breakfast. I have my volunteer shift this afternoon, and then Cass and I usually grab a bite to eat, but I should have plenty of time to look into flights and accommodations after I turn my column in.”

Gracie glanced at Tom, who winked at her. I had a feeling this trip would be exactly what the pair needed to work out their own relationship issues. Of course, knowing what I knew about the family curse, I really wasn’t sure that was a good idea but having a dream vacation together didn’t mean they had to get married, which in my mind, seemed to be the key to activating the curse in the first place.

“By the way, I wanted to ask if you’d spoken to Ned,” I asked Gracie.

“I spoke to him yesterday,” she answered. “Nora is home from the hospital and seems to be doing better. She’s still weak, and Ned is understandably worried about her, but her doctor seems to think she’ll pull through this with as much grace as she pulled through everything else. I told him I was happy to continue to open and close the store for as long as he needed me, but he decided to look for a more permanent solution, so he asked his niece to come to Foxtail Lake and run the store while Nora recovers. Once they see how Nora fares over the next few weeks, they’ll figure out what their next move should be.”

“Is he thinking about selling the store?” I asked.

Gracie nodded. “I think he’s considering it. Nora’s cancer seems to be in remission, and there is real hope for a full recovery, but I think the ordeal has taken a lot out of both of them. When I spoke to him, he simply said he was going to look into some options, but I won’t be surprised if he sells. I hate to see Ned and Nora leave the area, but I suspect that might be an option he is considering as well.”

“But this is their home,” I argued. “I can’t imagine them not being here.”

“I can’t either, but I suppose when you get to a certain age, you have to ask yourself if you are physically able to deal with the snow.”

I supposed that much was true. Maybe the niece would stay and help run the store, and the popular couple could maintain the life they loved for a while longer.

After I finished my pancakes, I headed into town. Dex was in his office, and by the time I arrived, he’d already read the electronic version of my column that I’d sent over first thing this morning. I handed him the hard copy, which still seemed pointless in my mind, and then sat down across the desk from him.

“So, what do you think?” I asked.

“I like it. But I do think that by the time the last of your series publishes, we’ll need to identify Ms. Cupid. Any luck tracking her down?”

“No. I really have no idea who it might be. I’ve asked every matched person who they think it might be, and no one can even offer a guess. I mean, if you really stop to think about it, Ms. Cupid has to be someone who knows a lot of people really well.”

“So someone in the community who gets out and talks to people.”

I nodded. “I’ve considered Wilma Goodwin from the post office. I realize that most folks use email rather than snail mail these days, but most everyone in town has a reason to go to the post office at some point. Maybe they want to mail something certified, or pick up a package, or even just buy stamps. Wilma is an outgoing sort, who will talk your ear off before she’ll hand over the stamps you went in to buy, so a simple visit could net her quite a bit of information. In terms of knowing a lot of people, she fits the bill, and she does get a peek at the mail being sent to and from the residents in the area, which would give her additional access to each person’s preferences.”

“Wilma as Ms. Cupid makes sense. Have you spoken to her?”

I nodded. “She chuckled when I suggested that maybe she had been doing some matchmaking, and while she didn’t flat out deny my suspicions, she didn’t confirm anything either. She’s the number one name on my list of potential Ms. Cupids. The second name on my list is Doris Jenner from the diner. She’s worked there as a hostess since I was a kid, and she stops and talks with everyone when they pay their bill. Plus, I know that she sometimes meets with the other town gossips for coffee. In terms of knowing intimate details about the lives of many of the locals in the area, I think she fits the bill too.”

“I agree that Doris might make a good suspect as well. Anyone else?” Dex asked.

“Maude and Ida Cunningham.” The sisters ran the local inn. “I know that they are busy with the inn, and on the surface, it might seem as if they wouldn’t have time to mess with matchmaking, but they are both extroverted and tend to stay right in the middle of whatever is going on in town. They have lived in Foxtail Lake for most of their lives, so they know a lot of people. It seems like those who are being matched are mostly long-term residents, but there have a been a few who are new to town, so I did consider that Maude and Ida would be less likely to have had a chance to talk with the new folks than either Doris or Wilma.”

Dex shuffled some papers on his desk, I suspected more for effect than because they actually needed shuffling. He really did seem to have a romanticized image in his mind as to how his interactions with his staff should go. In a way, I found it endearing.

“The reality is,” I continued, “that Ms. Cupid obviously does not want to be identified, so even if I guess right, I doubt she’ll admit it. All the correspondence with the clients she takes on is via email, so it’ll be hard to track her down unless…”

“Unless?” Dex asked.

“I suppose I could ask Dean and Martin Simpson to help me with the emails.” The brothers were tech geniuses, who I was sure would have no problem tracing the origin of the Ms. Cupid emails. “Of course, doing that feels somewhat wrong,” I added. “An invasion of privacy if you really stop to think about it. I mean, Ms. Cupid isn’t a hardened criminal. She is most likely a sweet old lady who simply wants the people who live in her community to find love and happiness. While I agree with you that naming her will add to the impact of the final column in the series, I’m not sure I want to do anything quite as underhanded as tracing an email to unmask our Cupid.”

Dex frowned. “I see what you are saying, and while I think that naming Ms. Cupid would add some bang to the column, most folks didn’t seem to mind that you decided not to name Secret Santa.” His brows shot up. “You don’t think the same person is behind both identities, do you?”

I thought about the person in the community behind the Secret Santa gifts. “No. I don’t think it’s the same person. And I will continue to look into the woman behind the service. Who knows, maybe she’ll be fine with allowing her identity to be known.”

“Are you sure it’s a woman?”

“Actually, no, but it seems that if a man was behind this, he would simply go by Cupid and not Ms. Cupid.” I glanced at the clock. “I didn’t see Gabby when I came in. Will she be here today?”

“She will. She had an appointment this morning.”

“She hasn’t texted me to let me know that she’s heard from Ms. Cupid, so I assume she hasn’t.”

“Not as of yesterday. She did remind me when I asked that almost everyone is saying that it takes a month or more for Ms. Cupid to get back to you once you apply, even if you are selected, so she wasn’t too worried about it yet.”

I leaned forward and rested my forearms on the desk. “I wonder how she decides who to help and who not to help. At first, I figured that she only got back to people she already had a match for, and I guess that could be the case, but I do wonder if there isn’t more to it.”

“Do you know anyone who applied but wasn’t chosen?” Dex asked.

“No. Not offhand. But maybe I should add a line to the end of my column that asks residents who have applied but haven’t heard back to contact me. It would be interesting to see if there is a pattern amongst those not chosen. I’m also curious if there have been any recent matches. The last couple I’ve identified as having been matched by Ms. Cupid was matched before Christmas.”

“Do you think she’s moved on or stopped the service?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “The website is still up, and new applications are still being accepted. Maybe if I put some feelers out, I’ll have others come forward that I haven’t heard about.”

“I haven’t sent the column to formatting yet. If you want to add a line asking folks to contact you, go ahead but have them contact you via your newspaper email. You won’t want to put your personal contact information out there.”

I used my desk at the newspaper to update my column, and then I resubmitted it. I said my goodbyes to Dex and headed to my first appointment of the day. I had two Ms. Cupid matches set up for interviews today, although I found I was getting the same or close to the same responses from each interview. I did think I was going to need to mix things up and change my approach for my next column. Maybe interviewing my Ms. Cupid suspects would be an interesting way to go. Initially, I thought I might write four columns, but unless I stumbled upon an interesting twist, I was actually thinking about limiting the series to three columns and moving onto something different at the end of the month.