The Case of the Cupid Caper

  The Case of the Cupid Caper

  A Cat in the Attic Mystery

  by

  Kathi Daley

  A Cat in the Attic Mystery

  The Curse of Hollister House

  The Mystery Before Christmas

  The Case of the Cupid Caper

  The Secret of Logan Pond

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2020 by Katherine Daley

  Version 1.0

  All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.

  Table of Contents

  A Cat in the Attic Mystery

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Next From A Cat in the Attic

  Next From Kathi Daley Books

  Preview

  Chapter 1

  Friday

  Callie Considers

  Submitted for the February 3rd issue of the Foxtail News

  By Calliope Rose Collins

  Love, I’ve learned, has many faces.

  In its purest form, it is giving and selfless, demanding nothing in return. It bolsters and enriches, and when cultivated in the soul and nurtured in the heart, it can sustain us through even our darkest hours.

  But love, when born purely from desire, can also be selfish and demanding. The need to possess can burn hot, bringing us passion and excitement, but eventually, the intense flame will destroy itself and simply fade away.

  I’ve lived with love in all its guises. I’ve been strengthened by its promise and weakened by its loss. I’m both a better and a lesser person for having made peace with its many faces.

  Six months ago, a matchmaker known only as Ms. Cupid appeared on the local scene and began stealthily helping lonely souls find love by arranging the perfect date for the perfect pairing. Not only has Ms. Cupid been extremely successful at making these matches, but she appears to have her own reason for doing what she does. As far as I can tell, she has yet to charge anyone a single dollar for her admittedly unique service, though she seems to have put quite a lot of time into her project.

  While Cupid of classic mythology used his magic arrow to bring hope to the lovelorn, Ms. Cupid, it seems, has added her own twist — a secret ingredient which involves a dose of technology mixed with carefully screening potential clients. After speaking to several of the matched couples in preparation for penning this column, I’ve found that, by and large, those lonely souls desperately seeking a match, have been more than happy with the outcome of Ms. Cupid’s service. One client called her methodology unconventional yet effective, while another referred to the service as insightful and life-changing.

  Over the next few weeks, I plan to interview each of the matched couples in the hope of debunking the mystery surrounding this unidentified woman and her unprecedented success. I invite you, my faithful readers, to come along as I peel back the layers to determine whether these seemingly perfect pairings are due to some sort of supernatural insight, chance, or simply science.

  I glanced toward the attic window where my Aunt Gracie’s cat, Alastair, waited for me to finish my weekly column, Callie Considers, for next week’s issue of the Foxtail News. Although I’d been given a desk at the office in town, I still preferred to work in my quiet little corner of the attic in the lakefront home where I’d grown up and currently lived with Gracie. “So, what do you think?” I asked as I hit the print button.

  “Meow.”

  “It’s brief,” I admitted as I looked down at the printed product. “But I think it’s a solid intro to the series I plan to write. I just hope Dex likes it,” I referred to my boss and editor, Dex Heatherton. I hit send on the file and sent it off. Getting up from the desk, I headed across the room, out the door, and down the stairs. Alastair followed behind.

  “You’re up and about early,” Gracie said after I entered the kitchen where she was having breakfast with her friend and groundskeeper, Tom Walden.

  “I wanted to head into town early today. I need to meet with Dex about my column for next week, and then I have several interviews set up for my Ms. Cupid series.”

  “How’d the column you’ve been working on this week turn out?” she asked.

  I handed the printed copy to her to read. I watched as she narrowed her gaze and raised her brow. I supposed I had exaggerated my own experience with love just a bit, and I supposed she knew it.

  She glanced in my direction. “It’s very poetic.”

  “I know what you’re thinking, and you’d be correct in the fact that, due to the family curse, I haven’t actually enjoyed the varied love life I hinted at in the intro, but I thought about it and decided that a little embellishment was harmless. I suppose I could have left the part about having experienced love in all its guises out of the narrative, but I figured it would make for a better column if my readers assumed I’d had an extensive love life and therefore knew what I was talking about.”

  Tom didn’t say anything, but I did notice he tightened his lips when I mentioned the family curse. I guessed I didn’t blame him. I suspected he loved Gracie, and I was certain she loved him in return, but I also knew she’d never act on her feelings due to her belief in the curse we believed was responsible for the deaths of her sister and my parents.

  “Will you be home for dinner?” she asked, I was sure more to fill the silence than to discover the answer to the question since I was rarely home for dinner on Fridays.

  “No. I don’t think so. Cass and I have our volunteer shift at the animal shelter, and we usually grab a bite after. I did confirm with Paisley that she is going to her friend, Anna’s, after school, so we don’t need to worry about picking her up.” Paisley was our next-door neighbor who has lived with her grandmother since the death of her mother, and Gracie and I helped out where we could. “I also need to line up the interviews with those matched individuals I haven’t been able to contact.” I glanced at Tom. “Doesn’t Warren Smith belong to the same lodge you do?”

  “Yeah, Warren is a member. Why do you ask?”

  “He’s one of Ms. Cupid’s most recent success stories. I’ve been trying to track him down in the hope of lining up an interview, but he isn’t returning my calls. I wondered if you would encourage him to call me if you see him before I’m able to contact him.”

  “Warren Smith signed up for a dating service?” Tom looked shocked by the news.

  “Actually, he didn’t sign up,” I answered. “Madeline Jefferies signed up, and Ms. Cupid somehow determined that Warren would be Madeline’s perfect mate, so even though he wasn’t one of her clients, she arranged for them to meet.”

  “So Ms. Cupid matches her clients to random people in the community whether they’ve signed on for the service or not?” Gracie asked.

  “That’s what I understand.” I tilted my head slightly as I stopped to consider this. “I know that seems odd. When I first heard about Madeline’s pairing with Warren, I was surprised that any dating service would match clients with non-clients, but it does appear that at least some of the couplings attributed to Ms. Cupid have been between a c
lient looking for love and a non-client who was selected by Ms. Cupid to be a perfect match.”

  Tom slowly shook his head. “I’m not sure how I feel about that. It seems invasive to me. Besides, how would this Ms. Cupid even know enough about the person she planned to match her client with to know they’d get along if he or she hadn’t filled out a questionnaire?”

  “I’m really not sure,” I admitted. “I assume Ms. Cupid resides in the community and knows the people who live here. The matchmaking service doesn’t appear to be a normal dating site where clients sign up and are matched with each other based on a dating profile. It seems to be a lot more personalized.”

  “You said that Ms. Cupid arranged for Madeline to run into Warren. How exactly did that play out?” Gracie asked.

  I poured myself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table. “According to Madeline, who I briefly spoke with on the phone, she received an email from Ms. Cupid after she was accepted as a client telling her to go to the lumber yard and ask to speak to someone named Warren.”

  “How did Ms. Cupid know that Madeline would find Warren at the lumber yard?” Gracie asked.

  “Warren owns the lumber yard, so I imagine that Ms. Cupid had reason to suspect he’d be there. Anyway, Madeline was told to ask Warren for help selecting wood for bookshelves. She was instructed to draw out the process and ask a lot of questions. Madeline did as she was instructed, which provided the initial meeting between Madeline and Warren. I guess once they met, it really was attraction at first sight. Warren offered to help Madeline build the bookshelves, and now they are seriously dating.”

  “That’s crazy,” Tom said.

  I shrugged. “I agree. In fact, at this point, I wouldn’t be surprised to find out that Ms. Cupid is using some sort of fairy dust to make people fall in love. My plan is to talk to as many of Ms. Cupid’s matches as possible and see if I can figure out exactly what sort of magic she employs to produce such a huge success rate.”

  “I assume she only takes on clients she feels she has a match for,” Tom said.

  “I would agree with that,” I answered. “Based on my research, it appears as if Ms. Cupid only accepts a very small percentage of the people who apply as clients. I will say, however, that once she accepts you as a client, the odds of you finding true love within a few months is pretty darn high.”

  “I suppose if I was desperately seeking romance, which I’m not,” Gracie stated firmly, “I might succumb to this sort of thing if I’d tried it on my own and gotten nowhere.”

  “That’s because you are the outgoing and curious sort who is willing to try new things. Not everyone is.” Tom pointed out.

  Gracie winked at him. He smiled. If there were ever two people who should have spent a lifetime together, it was them.

  “So, what are the two of you up to today?” I asked mostly to break the awkward silence.

  “I’m going to start painting the den, which your aunt wants to convert to a sewing space,” Tom said.

  “You’re going to turn the den into a sewing room?” I asked Gracie.

  She nodded. “Paisley has shown an interest in learning to sew. I thought I’d teach her, and it does help if the workspace is outfitted correctly. I’m painting the room in a pale blue. Learning to sew can be stressful, and blue is a soothing color. You can join us if you’d like.”

  “Thanks, but no thanks,” I replied. Gracie had tried to teach me to sew when I was around Paisley’s age, but I’d hated it.

  “I’m going to head into town while Tom works on the painting,” Gracie added. “I’ve been trying to drop in on Nora a couple times a week.”

  Nora Nottaway was a good friend of Gracie’s, and like Gracie, she’d lived in Foxtail Lake her entire life. Nora had been diagnosed with cancer the previous summer and had been receiving treatment. Based on what Gracie had told me, she’d responded well, and there was genuine hope that she’d make a full recovery. I guess with something like this, only time would reveal the answer to the prayers being offered by most everyone in the community.

  I glanced at the clock and realized I needed to get going if I was going to meet with Dex and make it to my first appointment of the day on time. “I really need to run,” I said as I poured my coffee into a travel mug. “Tell her that I’ve been holding a special place in my heart and my prayers for her.”

  “I will, dear. Have a nice day.”

  I waved to my favorite senior couple and then headed out to my four-wheel drive. Although it hadn’t snowed all that much in the past few days, it had been cold, which made the roads icy, so I drove slowly. I loved the scenery along the route into town from the lake house, where Gracie and I lived. The majestic mountains in the background provided the perfect backdrop for the wide-open meadows and currently frozen rivers.

  “Morning, Gabby,” I greeted the receptionist at Foxtail News after I arrived at the small office and print shop. “Is he in?”

  “He’s in his office,” Gabby answered.

  I set my purse on the desk that had recently been assigned to me, grabbed a note pad and pen, and then headed down the hall to Dex’s office. I knocked on the door once, and he called for me to come in.

  “I read the column you sent over,” he greeted after I opened the door and entered his office.

  “So, what do you think?” I sat down on the chair across the desk from him.

  “I like it.” He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms across his chest. “It’s seasonal with a wide appeal, and there is an element of mystery that your readers seem to love. Have you set up interviews with all of the individuals matched by Ms. Cupid?”

  “I have interviews set up with eighty percent of the matched pairs, but there are a few individuals who are being evasive,” I answered. “I’m working on that and have enough to get started. I’m planning to feature several couples in each of the columns that are scheduled to run in the next few weeks.”

  “And do you have an interview set up with Ms. Cupid? Or the person or persons behind the dating site?”

  “Well,” I backpedaled, “not yet. The problem is that I haven’t been able to track down the person or persons behind the site. I haven’t given up looking, and I’m sure that given enough time, I can figure it out.”

  “Maybe you should sign up for the service yourself as a means of getting an insider’s view of how the whole thing works,” Dex suggested.

  I thought about Ms. Cupid’s nearly one hundred percent success rate and cringed at the idea. I had lived my life in the shadow of a curse I believed in with all my heart. The last thing I needed was to come face to face with my soulmate. “I think your idea is a good one, and having an insider’s view could provide a certain benefit, but at this point, I think I’d rather write my story from the outside as a casual observer. Maybe Gabby would be interested in finding her soulmate. If she’s willing to sign up, and if Ms. Cupid selects her as a client, I can get an insider’s perspective of the journey every step of the way, while keeping the story at arms-length so I don’t lose my objectivity.”

  He nodded. “That seems like a reasonable compromise.”

  “Okay, I’ll talk to her.” I gathered up my belongings. “And thanks for supporting the idea. With Valentine’s Day just around the corner, I really wanted to do something that fits the season.”

  “You hit it out of the ballpark with your series on Secret Santa in December, and New Year’s resolutions in January. I think you are really onto something with the seasonal stuff.”

  “Thanks. I really appreciate the opportunity you’ve given me. I want to do a good job for you, the newspaper, and our readers.”

  I spoke to Dex for a few more minutes and then went to find Gabby. I explained my need for a guinea pig for my story. As I predicted she would be, Gabby was delighted to help out.”

  “You aren’t otherwise encumbered?” I asked.

  “Not at all.”

  “It’s just that I’ve noticed you noticing Gabe and thought there might be some
thing going on there.” Gabe was a very attractive man who worked part-time delivering newspapers to the businesses in town that carried them.

  “Gabe is sweet and funny, and he has to be one of the best looking men in town, but he’s basically a thirty-year-old paperboy. He’s asked me out a couple of times, but I’ve made up reasons to turn him down. If I was twenty again and looking for someone to simply have some fun with, then I might be interested in a fling with someone like Gabe, but when it comes to finding a guy to settle down with, I need someone who is responsible. Someone who has drive and ambition.”

  I supposed I could see that. At some point, it really was time to grow up. “Okay then, let’s do this. The first step is to fill out the application and interview. If you’d like, we can do that together.”

  “I’d appreciate the help.”

  “Okay log onto the site and let’s see what sort of information Ms. Cupid is requiring,” I instructed.

  I had to admit the questions asked were not at all what I’d been expecting. Once the basic information regarding name, age, gender, sexual preference, and residence were taken care of, the website launched into a series of questions, which, in my opinion, had nothing to do with your suitability as a potential mate.

  “Would you describe me as being more yellow, orange, or red?” Gabby asked.

  I raised a brow. “That’s one of the questions?”

  “It is.”

  “Well,” I tilted my head as I considered the colors. “Yellow is a sunny and bright color. You always appear to be happy and cheerful, and you greet everyone with a smile, so I’d say yellow fits. But you are also passionate about the things you care about, and to me, red is more of a passionate color, so I feel like it fits as well. Orange feels like the most creative of the three colors offered, and you are creative. Wow, this really is a hard question. What do you think? Are you feeling more yellow, orange, or red?”