The Case Of The Cupid Caper

Chapter 11

Saturday

I’d arranged to give Paisley a piano lesson on Saturday, but Dex had called and asked me to cover the grand opening of a new bakery in town as well as the art and craft show being held at the community center. I also needed to reschedule the interviews I’d canceled the previous afternoon after finding out about the fire at Mayor White’s home if I still believed the interviews were worthwhile.

I knew I needed to manage my time, so I decided to get up early and go over my notes for my Cupid series in the hope of coming up with a rough outline for my column that was due on Friday of the following week. Maybe interviewing matched couples wasn’t the best use of my time. Maybe I should do as Dex suggested and refocus my energy on identifying the person behind the successful matchmaking.

Of course, what I really wanted to do was to dig around in the two recent murders. I knew Cass was working on them and I had all the faith in the world that he’d eventually be successful in figuring out what had led to both men’s deaths, but covering hard-hitting news for the regional paper rather than dances and bake sales, was what I really wanted to do. I knew that Dex would assign the story to Brock, and rightfully so given his years of experience, but perhaps if I came up with something relevant and timely, he’d go ahead and print it.

“So, what do you think, Alastair?” I asked the cat who was sitting with me in the window seat in the attic. The attic window seat was where I always went to think. There was something about sitting high up in the house and looking down on the lake beyond the yard that seemed to give me clarity. “Do I make time in what is already a really busy schedule to poke around in the two local murders, or do I focus on the jobs assigned to me and then spend the afternoon with Paisley as I’d promised her I would?”

“Meow.”

“Yes, spending time with Paisley is important, although Gracie is working on the sewing room today, and I know that Paisley would enjoy working with her on the space they plan to share probably as much as she’d enjoy hanging out with me.” I leaned back a bit, pulling the cat to my chest. I scratched him under his chin, and he began to purr. “Of course, by working on the murder cases when no one has asked me to do so, I suppose I’ll be stepping on both Brock and Cass’s toes. I don’t want to do that either, and it’s not like I have a lead to follow up on. Cass and I both think that given the fact that Mayor White had been seeing Dale Conover professionally, it’s likely their sessions provide the motive behind both deaths. I guess I should just follow up on the stories assigned to me and leave digging around in the murders to the professionals.”

I leaned my head against the wall behind me, closed my eyes, and let my mind wander. I knew that Mayor White had moved to Foxtail Lake several years ago, although I didn’t know specifically how many years. I knew that he was divorced with teenage children he saw occasionally, and I knew that he had been intent on a career in politics since the moment he’d arrived in town. I knew he ran for a position on the town council, and once he had his foot in the door, he ran for mayor. I knew that he was a progressive thinker who’d been intent on bringing new business to the area, and it seemed as if he was willing to use any means required to reach his goals.

As for Dale, I knew he had also been a resident of Foxtail Lake for several years. Like Mayor White, I didn’t know exactly when he showed up on the scene, but I realized it might be important to find out. I also wondered where each of the men had lived before moving to Foxtail Lake. I was pretty sure that Tom had said Dale was from Chicago. Of course, I also remembered that Dale Conover wasn’t his real name.

Cass was focusing on the professional relationship between the two men, but I had to wonder if they’d known each other before moving to the area. If they had, that might lead to another avenue of inquiry to explore.

I figured Cass probably knew the specifics as to when each of the victims moved to the area and where each of the men had moved from, but it was early, and I hated to wake him if he wasn’t up. I had the names of both men, so I figured it would be easy enough to do a computer search. I set the cat aside and wandered over to the desk I used as a makeshift office. I logged onto my computer and started with a search for Doctor Dale Conover. I remembered that he’d been referred to as Doctor Conover, which most likely meant that he had a Ph.D. since I was pretty sure he hadn’t obtained a medical degree.

The only thing that came up for Doctor Conover was information relating to his life after moving to Foxtail Lake. I tried to remember his name before he moved to the area. Glen. I was pretty sure his name had been Glen. I thought back to my conversation with Tom. I seemed to remember that he mentioned his last name, as well. Glen Baxter? No, that wasn’t right. But it had started with a B. Brown? Blake? Bronson? Breeland? Tom had said that when Dale had lived in Chicago before the incident with Clay Barrow, he’d been going by the name Glen Breeland. I typed that name into the computer, and sure enough, there were several mentions of Doctor Glen Breeland and the Breeland Clinic. It appeared he’d had a large practice when he lived and worked in Chicago. Much larger than what he had now. Again, I had to wonder why he hadn’t simply moved to another large city rather than settling in tiny Foxtail Lake.

Once I confirmed that Dale was from Chicago, I did a search for Frank White in Chicago. Unfortunately, there were multiple Frank White’s in Chicago. I was going to need more to determine if our Frank White was one of the men listed.

I’d thought I could do a search on my own, but perhaps I needed Cass’s help after all. Deciding a text wouldn’t wake him if he’d slept in, I sent him a message asking him to call me when he had the opportunity. I was surprised when he called right away.

“You’re up early,” he greeted.

“You are as well.”

“I never went to bed. At least not officially. I did fall asleep at my desk for a few hours. So what’s up?”

“I’m just sitting here in the attic going over my day with Alastair, and I got to thinking about the two murder cases. I found myself wondering if the two men might have known each other before moving to Foxtail Lake. I know both men have been described as moving to the area several years ago. I remember that Doctor Conover was from Chicago, but I wasn’t sure where Frank White lived before moving to the area.”

“You are correct in that Dale Conover did move to Foxtail Lake from Chicago five years ago. His real name is Glen Breeland, but he changed his name after the incident with Clay Barrow. Mayor White first moved to the area about five years ago as well. I know he was on the council for two years before running for mayor, and he’s been mayor for a little over two years. I’m actually not sure where he lived before moving to our mountain oasis, but now that you mention it, I do think that would be good information to have. I’ll look into it.”

“So, if you’ve been working all night, have you come up with any new leads?” I wondered.

“I’ve managed to piece together a bit more of our confetti puzzle. It looks like Mayor White had been meeting with Dale Conover to discuss something having to do with someone named Mike. One of White’s children is named Mike, so their sessions might have been nothing more scandalous than a father concerned about his child.”

I frowned. “That doesn’t sound like a motive for murder. Are you sure the Mike referred to is the son and not a different Mike?”

“Actually, I’m not. I found one intact section of one piece of paper that talked about not knowing what to do about Mike, but most of the notes Conover kept relating to his sessions with the mayor have been burned. I’m still hoping to find his computer files, but so far, I haven’t had any luck with the laptop, and a link to his online files wasn’t found on his tablet.”

“This whole thing is pretty frustrating.”

“It has been,” Cass agreed. “I did find a file relating to one of Conover’s other patients, the man with the aggression issues. There was enough information to provide me with a name, which I was able to follow up with. The man is a real tool, and he definitely has a chip on his shoulder, but he also has an alibi for the time of the house fire at Conover’s residence.”

“So, you’re still following the leads that seem to pertain only to Conover?”

“I’m following any lead I come up with relating to either man at this point. I will admit that I don’t have a lot, but I know from experience that if you dig deep enough and wait long enough, something will eventually float to the surface.”

“So, who do you have left on your suspect list?” I wondered.

“Lissa is still on the initial suspect list I created for Conover. I know that it seems that as his girlfriend, she wouldn’t want to do him harm, but there are a lot of little things that aren’t adding up for me about their relationship. I will admit that as far as I can tell, she didn’t have a single reason to kill Mayor White, but until I can prove otherwise, she stays on the list.”

“I agree there was something odd going on there. Who else do you have?”

“The only other person on Conover’s list at this point is someone having to do with Clay Barrow, but now that I have his calendar, I’m going to go back and contact everyone I can identify who may have met with Conover during the past month. As for White, there are a lot of folks unhappy about the job he was doing as mayor. I’m not sure anyone was upset enough to actually kill the guy, but I do plan to ask around.”

“And you don’t have anyone showing up on both lists?” I asked.

“Not so far, but like I said, I plan to keep digging.”

“Did you ever figure out who it was Dale met with right before his death? I think you said his calendar indicated it was someone referred to as Tolley.”

“Yes, I did manage to track down Conover’s last patient. She was a new patient. I think she’d only been seeing him for a few weeks. She had nothing but good things to say about the guy. I didn’t pick up any sort of homicidal maniac vibe.”

“I guess the idea that the last patient seen by Conover was the killer was a long shot. By the way, are we supposed to refer to the individuals seen by Conover as clients or patients?”

“I believe Conover referred to the men and women he saw as patients.”

“Makes sense, I guess. It’s good you were able to identify this Tolley person and eliminate her from the list. Let me know if there is anything I can do.”

“I will. What are you up to today?”

“I have a couple of events to cover for the newspaper, and I need to make some decisions about my next Ms. Cupid column. I’m also supposed to give Paisley a piano lesson, although Gracie told me yesterday that she planned to start outfitting the sewing room now that Tom has finished painting in there, so Paisley may end up helping her. If you need a break and want to grab lunch, I’ll be in town. Just text me. I have to cover the grand opening of the new bakery at ten and then the art and craft show at the community center after that. I should be done by noon.”

“Okay. I may take you up on that. I guess I’ll see how my morning goes.”

After I hung up, I headed downstairs for some coffee. Gracie wasn’t down yet, so I decided to go ahead and start breakfast. She’d shown me the recipe for an easy egg and sausage pie with mushrooms and pepper jack cheese, so I decided to assemble the one-dish meal and then stick it in the oven before heading back upstairs to shower and dress. By the time I came back down, Gracie and Tom were sitting at the table with mugs of coffee, discussing their plans for the day.

“I see you started breakfast,” Gracie said. “I appreciate that.”

I refilled my coffee. “I was up early, and the recipe you showed me was an easy one. I figured I’d chip in since I usually never cook. It should be done in about five minutes.”

“It smells delicious.” She smiled. “So, what are you up to today?”

“I have a couple of local events to cover for the newspaper, and then I might have lunch with Cass if he has time. Paisley is coming over this afternoon.”

“Oh, good. I know she wanted to be here when we started decorating the new sewing room. Does she need a ride?”

“I think she planned to walk over, although it’s a blustery day, so maybe I’ll try to pick her up after lunch.”

“If that doesn’t work out, call me, and I’ll run over and get her. I know how you tend to get distracted when you spend time with Cass.”

I wasn’t sure if her comment had to do with the fact that I tended to get distracted by the cases he worked on, and I found fascinating, or if she was insinuating that the man easily distracted me. I supposed both were true.

“Have you spoken to Cass since yesterday?” Gracie asked.

“Actually, I had a brief phone conversation with him this morning. Apparently, except for a nap at his desk, he worked all night.”

“A body needs sleep,” Gracie voiced.

“I know. I’m sure he knows that as well. I think he just got wrapped up in trying to piece together the scraps of paper that survived the fire at Dale Conover’s home. He feels that the files that were burned are the most likely ones to have relevant information on recent cases.”

“Even with the similarities to Mayor White’s death, is he still pursuing a therapy patient as a probable suspect in Dale Conover’s death?” Tom asked.

“Cass told me he’s looking at all angles at this point. It does seem as if, in the end, he’ll need to find a suspect that had reason to want both men dead. I think we all agree that given the similarities, it seems unlikely there isn’t a single killer.”

“Unless Mayor White was killed by someone who intentionally mimicked the death of Dale Conover to divert suspicion away from him or herself,” Tom pointed out.

I narrowed my gaze. “Do you think that could be what’s going on? A copycat who took advantage of Dale Conover’s death to get rid of White?”

He shrugged. “I wouldn’t eliminate the possibility. I mean, if you stop to think about it, linking a murder you’ve committed to another where you would never be a suspect is an ingenious plan if you’re clever enough to think of doing such a thing.”

“Or if you watch detective shows like Tom here does,” Gracie chuckled.

“It is an interesting approach,” I said aloud. “Say I have reason to want Mayor White dead, but I realize that if he is murdered, I’d likely be a prime suspect. Then Dale Conover happens to turn up dead, and I realize this is my chance. I theorize that if I kill Mayor White in a manner similar to the way Conover died, everyone will look for the common link between the two men. Assuming I, whoever I am, realizes that a link between myself and the first victim doesn’t exist, the chances are my name won’t come up in the conversation.”

“That’s a bit of a convoluted way of putting it, but none the less accurate,” Tom agreed.

I wrapped my hands around my mug and leaned forward slightly. “Cass did say that he planned to look at the murders both as linked and as separate events. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to bring your idea into the conversation. I’ll discuss the idea with him if we meet for lunch today.” I got up to check on the breakfast pie. “I don’t suppose either of you has any idea who might have wanted Frank White out of the way. I mean, really out of the way, and not just removed from office.”

“One person came to my mind the minute I heard about Frank’s death,” Tom said. “Gavin Hildebrandt. Of course, he would have no reason I know of to have wanted Dale dead, but if we’re going to look at the two deaths as separate events, then I think Gavin has to be on Frank’s list.”

“What did Frank do to Gavin?” I asked.

“Do you remember us discussing the fact that Frank messed with Walter Bowman’s business deal to try to force Walter to sell his store to him?”

“Yes, I remember. I guess that makes Walter a suspect, but there is no way I believe that sweet old man killed anyone.”

“He’s younger than me, so not that old,” Gracie pointed out. “But I agree that Walter wouldn’t kill anyone. Gavin, on the other hand...”

I glanced at Tom, who had been the one to bring Gavin’s name up in the first place. “Who is this Gavin guy, and why would he want to kill Frank?”

“Gavin is the current owner of the local plow company. His family has had the contract to plow the roads in Foxtail Lake for decades. I think the town has contracted with the Hildebrandts since Gavin’s great grandfather moved to the area. There has never been any question in anyone’s mind that the contract between the town and Gavin’s company would be renewed year after year. Until this year. This year, Mayor White took it upon himself to hire a new contractor from out of the area, citing better equipment, which would lead to faster response time.”

“I understand that there are those who might feel loyal to Gavin, but a faster response time would be nice,” I pointed out.

“I don’t disagree, but the reason that Gavin doesn’t have new and upgraded equipment himself is because he’s been providing snow removal to the town for a mere fraction of what the new company is being paid. Gavin had approached the town about a raise so that he could buy new equipment on numerous occasions but was turned down every time due to a lack of funding. He’s been patching his old plows together for years. Then this year, Mayor White decides to tax all the businesses operating within the town limits. He earmarked this new revenue source for snow removal. To this point, I don’t disagree with his plan, but instead of using the money to help Gavin get the equipment he needs to provide better service to the town, he used the increase in revenue to hire an outside competitor, effectively putting Gavin out of business.”

“And you think Gavin would kill Mayor White over such a thing?”

Tom shrugged. “Gavin is a grizzly sort. He’s a hard worker who seems to care about the community, but in the past, he has gotten himself into hot water due to his impulse control issues. Two winters ago, he had a problem with one of the local contractors parking his truck in the street on snow removal days, which you know is illegal and can result in towing, but the third or fourth time this same contractor parked his truck in the street blocking the plow, Gavin decided not to wait for the tow truck. He simply used his plow to push the truck into a ditch.”

That had me smiling. “I guess you really can’t blame the guy. It sounds like this particular contractor was intentionally parking his truck in the path of the plow to take a dig at Gavin for some reason.”

“I guess that’s true enough,” Tom admitted.

“I’ll bring up Gavin’s name when I speak to Cass today. He’s probably already added him to his suspect list. He may have already spoken to him. Cass did indicate that the list of people who might have a beef with Frank was going to be a long one. It seems that the man did whatever he wanted to and didn’t pay a lick of attention to protocol.”

“I’d say that is accurate.” Tom lifted his coffee mug to his lips. “While the list of people with a motive will be long, there aren’t a lot of folks out there who have what it takes to kill a man.”