The Case Of The Cupid Caper

Chapter 3

Monday

I hadn’t seen Cass at all over the weekend. I knew he’d been busy tracking down clues he hoped would lead to Dale Conover’s killer, and I’d been busy setting up interviews for my Ms. Cupid article. I needed to turn in my next column by Friday, but I felt with the interviews I’d already completed, and the handful I’d set up for early this week, I should have no problem coming up with a riveting read by the deadline.

I’d spoken to Cass briefly on the phone last night. He’d shared that he’d been able to get inside the house and take a look around, but he hadn’t found any obvious clues that would help explain what happened. He also said that the fire marshal would have his report ready today and that he hoped once he fully understood the specifics relating to the fire, he’d be able to better understand who might have done what they had. He hadn’t found Dale’s tablet yet, but his phone had been near his remains. It was destroyed, but he had specialists working on trying to recover the information contained within the chip.

The file cabinets in the office were damaged as we’d expected they’d be, although there were documents that had survived thanks to the fire-resistant units. Unfortunately, fire-resistant didn’t necessarily mean fireproof, but the fire-resistant nature of the cabinets had helped. The files located in the center of the drawers were mostly intact, while those documents in the front and the back of the cabinet were burned and scarred but not destroyed.

Cass had taken the preserved documents as well as the partial documents he’d recovered back to his office in the hope of trying to assemble the pieces like some sort of jigsaw puzzle. I had to go by the newspaper this morning to turn in a couple of human interest articles Dex had assigned to me in addition to my weekly column, but I’d promised Cass I’d stop by his office when I was done to help him try to piece everything together. It was my day to pick up Paisley from school, so I couldn’t stay long, but I did want to help where I could. I had two interviews set up for my Ms. Cupid story tomorrow as well as my volunteer shift at the animal shelter, so I knew I’d have even less time than I did today.

“I have the stories about the high school’s production of Cats and the library’s read-a-thon to turn in,” I handed Dex the hardcopies. “I sent the electronic files this morning, so they should be in your inbox.” I sat down on the chair across from the desk as he looked over the stories. “Are you sure you need me to hand in hard copies of everything I write? It seems like the electronic copy would be sufficient.”

He sat back in his chair. “I know it might be a bit old fashion to ask for a hard copy, but asking for one allows me to meet with my reporters and ask any questions I might have. I worked for a newspaper in the past where everything was filed electronically, and I felt like the human element was lost. Don’t get me wrong, in a pinch, I will run with just an electronic copy, but if there is time to sit and chat with my reporters about their stories, that is my preference every time.”

I supposed that made sense, although it seemed like we could save the paper, turn in our articles electronically, and still meet with Dex before the article was formatted. The staff at the Foxtail News was small, and I was sure that it would be easy for Dex to keep track of everyone in his employ whether he required hard copies or not, but one of the things I liked the best about my new job was the close relationships I’d begun to develop, so I really couldn’t argue with his reasoning.

“So, do you have any questions about the articles?” I asked after he’d looked them over.

“No. They look good. I’ll send them to formatting. How is the Cupid article coming along?”

I let out a breath. “It’s coming along. I guess you heard about the fire on Friday. The man who died was one of the men who’d been matched up by Ms. Cupid. I haven’t decided if I’m going to work that into my column or just skip over it altogether, but the fire should be covered one way or another.”

“Brock wrote a news article about the fire and the man who died in the blaze,” he referred to Brock Green, the lead reporter for the newspaper. “The article will run today, and we’ll do follow-ups throughout the week as new information is made available. I know you have Deputy Wylander’s ear more than most, so if you hear anything, be sure to fill Brock in.”

“If I learn something I can share, I’ll call Brock and bring him up to speed. Do you have anything for me this week other than the Ms. Cupid story?”

He nodded. “I need someone to cover the upcoming Sweetheart Dance. Lettie Harper is organizing the event this year, so you should touch base with her. I thought we’d run an article letting everyone know the when and where this week, and then we’ll do a follow-up article after the dance so we can include photos of those in attendance.”

“Okay,” I said. “I can handle that. Do you want me to take the photos at the dance?”

“I do.”

I guess that meant I would have to attend. I really hadn’t planned to, but maybe Cass would come with me. “Anything else?” I really wanted to be assigned articles with meat to them, but at this point, I handled the fluff while Brock handled the actual news. Of course, I was brand new to this and Brock had been a reporter for decades so I supposed it made sense that he’d be assigned the hard-hitting stories.

“I also need you to cover the town council meeting tomorrow afternoon and the school board meeting on Thursday evening. The town council meets at noon in the community center, and the school board meets at five in the high school gym. I like to have a reporter at all the meetings, so be sure to ask for a schedule so you can cover both these important meetings each month.”

“Okay.” I smiled. The town council meeting wasn’t exactly a murder investigation, but I knew the meetings could get heated, and there had been a lot of controversies amongst school board members as well. I felt like Dex assigning these important meetings to me was a step in the right direction. Of course, having the meetings to attend was going to make for a busy week. I had interviews set up for tomorrow morning and Wednesday afternoon, I had my volunteer shifts at the shelter in the late afternoon and early evening on Tuesday and Friday, plus I picked Paisley up from school on Monday and Wednesday afternoons and brought her back to the house, helped her with her homework, and gave her a piano lesson.

Once we’d settled on the deadlines for each piece, I said my goodbyes to Dex and headed out to say hi to Gabby. “Did you hear anything from Ms. Cupid?” I asked.

“Not yet, but I really didn’t expect to this soon.”

“The others I’ve spoken to all indicated that it was weeks before they were contacted. I hoped it would happen quicker so we could use the experience for the column, but however it works out timewise, I just hope for your sake it works out.”

She grinned. “It’s so weird. Before you asked me to do this, I hadn’t spent a lot of time thinking about who in the community might make a good husband and father to my children, but now that my thoughts have turned to white picket fences and happily ever after, I find myself judging each single male I come into contact with. I’ve even started applying a rating system to single men I know. I realize that it’s Ms. Cupid’s job to find my perfect mate if she even decides to take me on as a client, but the more I think about it, the more aware I am of exactly how I view the men I know in the community.”

“Is there anyone you are particularly interested in?” I had to ask.

“Not really. Not yet. There are a few men I find myself hoping Ms. Cupid won’t choose for me.”

“You do realize that if Ms. Cupid chooses someone you don’t like or aren’t attracted to, you don’t have to enter into a relationship with them, don’t you?”

She shrugged. “I know. This is going to sound odd, but given the unprecedented success the woman has had, it really does seem that the matches are somehow predestined no matter what you might think of it beforehand.”

I actually knew what she meant by predestined. The whole reason I wanted Gabby to be our test subject rather than doing it myself was because I had this idea in my head that if you were matched by Ms. Cupid, you were good and matched no matter what you might think about it.

“I know you dated Will Southern in the past. I always thought the two of you made a good pair.”

She shrugged. “Will’s great. He’s funny, and we had a lot of fun together, but I don’t think he’d make a good husband and father. Like Gabe, he’s much too relaxed about things. Not that I want to marry an uptight guy, but raising kids is serious business. I need someone who will be a real partner. Someone who wants to be a father, knows what’s involved, and is willing to make the required sacrifices.”

“It sounds more like you are looking for an employee than a soulmate.”

“I suppose that a guy can be both a soulmate and a life partner who shares your goals and dreams and is willing to make them happen.”

“Well, I hope you find your perfect guy.”

“Yeah,” she sighed. “Me too.”

I chatted with Gabby a while longer, and then I headed down the main thoroughfare through town to Cass’s office. I greeted his receptionist, Gwen, who waved me on rather than getting up to let Cass know I was there. I was pretty sure that Gwen didn’t like me much. I didn’t think I’d done anything to her that would cause her anger, but she seemed to hate me on sight, so I was pretty sure her dislike of me had more to do with her infatuation with Cass than anything else.

“Wow, you’ve got quite the mess here,” I said as I noticed Cass in the conference room and veered in that direction. There were pieces of paper, some large and some small, spread out over every flat surface.

“The good news is that a lot of the files in the cabinets were mostly undamaged,” Cass replied. “The bad news is that most, if not all, his current files were in the front of the top drawer, which is the location that suffered the most damage. It almost appears as if the accelerant was focused on that location. I plan to go through all the files at some point, but my intuition tells me that the clue I’ll need to find to solve this case will be found in the partially burned files. That’s if Dale was even killed by a patient. At this point, our entire theory is based on nothing other than speculation.”

I supposed Cass made a good point. The idea that a violent patient would kill a psychologist was a good theory, but it was just one of many. I knew that Lissa and Dale had been dating, but I did have to wonder if there might be any exes in the picture that might be less than happy with the new relationship. And then there was always the possibility that the killing had a financial basis. Had Dale owed someone money or had he been owed money by someone who wasn’t inclined to pay him back?

Cass continued. “If you look at this largish piece of paper, it appears the handwritten note might have pertained to the domestic violence case Lissa mentioned. The top left corner is burned off, but the top right corner includes the words excessive force, bruising, and internal injuries, and then this little piece that appears to fit beneath the top left corner has two letters, ay, followed by the word shelter. I’m thinking the ay might be the end of the name of the shelter Dale might have referred his patient to.”

“Do you know of a shelter in the area that ends in ay?” I asked.

“Not offhand, but I’ll do some searching. I’d like to find either the top left corner or the bottom left section. I feel like if we just had a little more, we might be able to put this together.”

“Do you see a name anywhere?”

He shook his head. “No. I did find this one piece of paper that may or may not fit in the center of this page. The handwriting is the same, and a black pen was used for all the sections I found, but beyond that, it’s really hard to tell if this section goes with the other two pieces or not.”

“The page says: ‘ect has agreed to look into the options provided.’ I wonder what name ends with ect?”

“I can’t think of a single one offhand, but I’m sure names ending in ect do exist. The real challenge is going to be to find enough of the notes left behind to make a case, whatever that case might be.”

Cass and I sat side by side and continued to try to find pieces that matched. We found an entire section that talked about suppressed rage and the manifestation of pent up emotions after a long period of dormancy. I remembered that Lissa talked about a man who had been threatening Dale. In my mind, he made a strong suspect. Now we just needed to figure out who he was.

“I think I found something,” Cass said after an hour. “This section of notes, which does not appear to be part of the original document we looked at, refers to the patient or client as the subject.”

“Ect,” I said. “The part of the page that is burned might simply have been referring to the subject. Still, with the additional word of shelter which is intact, it does seem as if Dale might have been writing about the woman in the abusive relationship.”

“Now we just need to figure out the name of the subject he was referring to and the name of the shelter. If we can track this woman down, we may be able to get her to tell us what she knows about her husband. She may even have insight as to whether or not he is the sort to kill someone he blamed for his wife’s desertion.”

“Hang on, I have an idea.” I took out my phone and pulled up a list of all the women’s shelters in a sixty-mile radius. There was only one, and it was named the Rocky Mountain Shelter for Women and Children. I expanded my search by another sixty miles and then another until I found a listing for the Conway Center for Domestic Abuse. I supposed if Dale simply referred to the shelter as the Conway shelter that might fit the partial note we had. I told Cass about my find.

“That sounds like it could be what we’re looking for. Of course, it will be hard to determine if the woman Lissa told us about is there without a name.”

“Maybe you can just call and explain the situation to the shelter administrator. I’m sure whoever is in charge would know if they had any women referred by Doctor Dale Conover.”

Cass bobbed his head. “I’ll give the shelter a call.”

As it turned out, the administrator of the shelter, a woman named Wanda Davis, was able to confirm that she did have a temporary resident that had been referred by Doctor Dale Conover just ten days ago. She wasn’t willing to give Cass any information about the woman over the phone, but she did say she’d speak to the woman who’d come to them for refuge and ask if she’d be willing to speak to law enforcement in her hometown. There was little Cass could do without a warrant other than wait, so he agreed to her terms, and we went back to puzzle building until it was time for me to leave to pick up Paisley from school.

“Billy Maverick kissed Viola Warring on the lips,” Paisley said the minute she climbed in the car. “It was the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen.”

I had to fight back a smile. “And who exactly are Billy Maverick and Viola Warring?”

“They are sixth graders. Billy was held back in fourth grade, so he’s already twelve. Viola is eleven. Mr. Armstrong made Billy go to the principal’s office. I heard he might be suspended since he was also caught kissing Felicity Prosect just before Thanksgiving.”

My eyes grew wide. “Did you say that there’s a girl in your school whose last name is Prosect?” The last name, I realized, ended with ect.

“We did, but she moved away with her mom a week or so ago. I heard some of the teachers talking about how happy they were that she moved away. I’m not sure why. Felicity was pretty nice even if she was a loosey-goosey.”

I suspected the teachers were happy because they probably realized that moving away meant she had gotten out of a violent situation. I needed to call Cass and provide him with Felicity’s name just in case Felicity Prosect’s mother was the woman referred to in the notes, but I also knew it was best not to make a big deal about it in front of Paisley, so I asked her the second most obvious question on my mind. “Why did you say Felicity is a loosey-goosey?”

“That’s what all the kids called her after she was found making out with Billy. My grandma thinks that eleven is too young to be kissing anyone, but Felicity is what everyone refers to as mature for her age.”

“Mature for her age?” I asked.

“Her mom works a lot, and Felicity mostly takes care of herself. Can we stop for a snack on the way to your house? My grandma wasn’t feeling well this morning, so she didn’t make breakfast, and they had beans and hot dogs for hot lunch, which is just so gross. At least the way the school makes it, it’s gross. It has these little green things in it, so I didn’t eat it.”

“Yeah, we can stop. How about a burger? I never had lunch so I could eat as well.”

She grinned. “A burger would be dope.”

I realized that stopping for a burger would delay my call to Cass, so after we arrived at the restaurant, I found a booth, and after we ordered, I gave Paisley some quarters to play the video games while I stepped outside to make my call. Since I’d last seen him, Cass had received a call from the administrator at the shelter who informed him that the woman who’d been referred by Doctor Conover was happy to speak to him as long as he promised to keep her name out of it and her location secure. Of course, Cass agreed to both to the extent he could and had arranged a meeting with the woman, whose name was Helen Prosect, later today. The town where the shelter was located was a good two hours away, so he told me he’d call me in the morning to let me know how things went. I really hoped that we had actually found the clue that would lead us to the killer in only one day, but of course, I realized that it rarely worked out that way.

After I hung up with Cass, I returned to the restaurant. Paisley had burned through all her quarters and was sitting in the booth waiting for me. “So, your grandma hasn’t been feeling well?” I asked.

“She seems to have been okay lately, but this morning when I went into her room to let her know it was time to get up, she said she was having one of her spells. I’m not sure what that means, but this isn’t the first time she’s stayed in bed because of it.”

“Maybe I’ll ask Gracie to go and check on her.”

Paisley shrugged. It seemed she was trying to appear nonchalant about the whole thing, but I could tell she was worried. The poor kid had had it tough. First, her mother died, and now her grandmother was sick. Gracie and I helped out where we could, but perhaps it was time to look at permanent options should Paisley’s grandmother continue to suffer from ill-health.

“Gracie told me that the two of you are planning a sewing room.” I decided that any conversation concerning long-term custody could wait. Poor Paisley didn’t need to have that burden added to the long list she was already dealing with.

“Gracie is going to help me sew a purse. One of my friends from school has one that her mom helped her make. It’s made from an old pair of blue jeans.”

“I’ve seen those purses. They really are pretty fantastic.”

“I think so.” Paisley took a long sip of her soda.

I was about to ask about other projects she might be interested in when the kid at the counter announced that our burgers were ready. Once we’d settled with the food, Paisley launched into a conversation about the long lines at the monkey bars, which allowed me to focus on the ideas stomping around in my mind about mental health patients and the likelihood one of them might actually have become deadly. The more I thought about it, the less certain I was that the killer, should Cass be able to prove there was one, had been a patient. Perhaps a past lover, a poker buddy who owed a debt, or a business rival Doctor Conover might have poached from.