The Case of the Cupid Caper Page 12

  Chapter 13

  Margo was able to confirm that she’d heard about Frank being shot and killed on the morning of his death. She’d been at work as she normally was on a Friday morning. She’d decided to grab a Pepsi from the market, and Lissa was there when she arrived. The store was otherwise empty, so she initiated a conversation with the clerk as she checked out. That was when Lissa shared the news that Frank White had been shot and killed in his home. At the time, Lissa didn’t mention the fire, only the shooting. Margo told Cass that she found out about the fire later in the day.

  “Wait,” I said. I looked directly at Margo. “You said that Lissa told you that Frank White had been shot on Friday morning?”

  She nodded. “I guess it was around ten. I came into work at eight like I always do. I’d already had a couple of cups of coffee and wanted something cold to drink, which is why I went to the market.”

  I looked at Cass. “I was in your office when you got the call about the fire. It was around lunchtime. I’d already been to the newspaper to speak to Dex and to the post office to chat with Wilma by the time I came in to meet with you. I don’t remember the time exactly, but it was at least eleven.”

  Cass frowned. “So, what are you saying? Lissa shot Frank and then came into work, but at some point after speaking to Margo, she realized she might want to do more to cover her tracks, so she went back to the scene of the crime and set fire to the house?”

  “That seems to be what must have happened. Either that or Lissa shot Frank, and then someone else set the fire, which would be absurd.”

  “Agreed. I think I have enough for my warrant.” He looked at Margo. “Thanks for sharing what you knew with us.”

  “No problem. Happy to help.”

  “Remember not a word to anyone,” he cautioned. “The last thing we want is to tip Lissa off before we can get the warrant to search her property.”

  Cass was going to be held up for much of the afternoon, so I decided to go home and check in with Paisley and Gracie. When it looked like Cass might have time for lunch, I’d arranged for Gracie to pick up Paisley and bring her over to the house to work on the sewing room. Now that it appeared that Cass would have to cancel lunch, I supposed I’d just go home and write the articles I’d gathered notes on that morning. It was while I was putting the finishing touches on my craft fair article that it occurred to me to wonder if Lissa drove a blue sedan. I remembered that Cass had told me that one of Mayor White’s neighbors had told Cass that they’d seen a blue sedan on the street just before seeing the smoke from the fire. I figured Cass would be busy, but I also figured it wouldn’t hurt to text him. He texted back and confirmed that Lissa did indeed have a blue sedan and that he’d found large cans of gasoline that he believed she’d used to accelerate the fires in her garage. He’d picked her up and was about to head back to his office for the interrogation. I had to admit I’d like to be a fly on the wall in that room, but I guess I’d have to get the details from Cass after the fact.

  “Gracie helped me to make a cute top.” Paisley held a simple sleeveless pullover with no snaps or buttons up in front of her. I could see it was a good pattern to use to start her off. There were a few seams to sew, but nothing complicated and nothing requiring pleats or elastic.

  “That’s a really awesome top,” I replied. “It’s going to be so perfect with those pink shorts you have once summer gets here.”

  Paisley grinned. “I can’t wait to try a vest. Or a beach bag. Or maybe a skirt. Gracie said she has beginner patterns for all of those.”

  “And we’ll make all of them in the next few weeks,” Gracie promised. She glanced at me directly. “I was thinking of setting up a second station so that Paisley and I can work on separate projects at the same time. Do you still have the machine I gave you that you never really used?”

  “I’m sure it’s in the attic. I’ll go and look for it.”

  Paisley and I had cleaned the attic a while back, and I was certain I’d seen that old machine somewhere. Gracie had really tried to instill in me a love of cooking, sewing, and even gardening, but I’m afraid I only had room in my life for one mistress — music.

  Of course, that was then, and this was now. Maybe I should expand my horizons. Not sewing. Never sewing. But maybe cooking or gardening.

  It took a good thirty minutes to find the machine, but eventually, I did find it. I carried it downstairs and then helped set it up on an old desk that Gracie had refurbished. The desk had drawers Paisley could use for the patterns and supplies for the project she was working on, and it had a large surface where she could spread out and not have to drape sections of her project in her lap while working on another section.

  “I can’t believe I have my own sewing machine,” Paisley beamed.

  I had to admit it did my heart good to see her so happy. She’d had a rough time as of late, and I really did want to do whatever it took to bring that smile to her face more often.

  “You know, I could use a bag to carry my laptop in. Something simple with a shoulder strap. Maybe made out of denim. If you think that is something you might be able to work into your sewing schedule, I’ll buy the fabric.”

  Paisley looked at Gracie. She nodded.

  “I think we can do that,” Paisley said proudly.

  “You know, I bet something like denim purses and denim computer and book bags would sell at a place like the craft fair I went to this morning. If you try it out and decide it’s something you enjoy making, maybe the two of us could team up. I’d buy the supplies, and you’d make the bags and purses. We could sell them at an event like the one I attended this morning and put the proceeds into a college fund for when you get older.”

  She smiled. “I want to go to college. I’m going to be a doctor.”

  “I thought you wanted to be a lawyer,” Gracie said.

  “Or a musician,” I added.

  She shook her head. “No, a doctor. A cancer doctor. I want to find a cure, so no one else’s mom has to die.”

  Chapter 14

  Cass called just as I was getting ready to take Paisley home. He’d had a really long day, and hadn’t gotten around to eating anything so hoped I’d be able to join him. I’d eaten earlier with Gracie, Tom, and Paisley, but I told him if he wanted to come over, I’d heat up a plate of Gracie’s leftover pot roast with potatoes and carrots. He’d responded by saying that he was on his way.

  I knew that Cass liked extra gravy, so I heated that separately. By the time he arrived, I had the meat, potatoes, veggies, gravy, and biscuits ready to serve. I knew Cass enjoyed a beer with his meal, but he looked so exhausted, and since he still needed to drive home, I gave him a glass of iced tea instead.

  “So how’d your conversation with Lissa go?” I asked after he’d had a chance to eat a portion of his meal.

  “It was interesting.” He swirled a piece of potato in his gravy and popped it in his mouth.

  “Interesting?”

  He nodded as he broke a biscuit in two and slathered it in butter. “It took some doing, but she eventually admitted to having shot both Dale and Frank. She also admitted to having set both fires.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Lissa told me that she’d had a tough life to date, and after moving to Foxtail Lake, she’d begun seeing Dale as a patient. At the time, he’d been dating the woman she’d told us about who’d been obsessed with him.”

  “So, she did know her name.”

  He nodded. “She knew the names of all the patients she told us about. I’m not sure why she acted like she didn’t, but I don’t suppose that matters now. What does matter is that shortly after she met Dale, he dumped the other patient and began coming onto her. Lissa shared that the reason she’d made an appointment with him in the first place was because of her insecurities over men after suffering a bad breakup with a man she considered to be the love of her life before she moved to Foxtail Lake.”

  “Wow, that’s rough. I can’t believe someone who is an experien
ced therapist would take advantage of his position that way.”

  “I guess it takes all kinds. Anyway, Lissa told me that she’d been trying to find someone to have a meaningful relationship with for years, and was devastated and even considered suicide, until her brother, Mark, convinced her to move to Foxtail Lake and make a new start. She said she tried hard to get back in the game after her breakup and even applied to Ms. Cupid, but as you suspected, Ms. Cupid never contacted her about a match. So when she met Dale, she was primed. He made his move, and she fell completely and obsessively in love.”

  “And then?” I asked.

  “And then after they had dated for a while, a new woman came into his life. I’ve spoken to this new woman, and she is gorgeous. I mean, supermodel gorgeous.”

  Okay, now I was jealous. “And.”

  “And apparently, according to Lissa, Dale dumped her even though he had no chance with this other woman. After Dale broke things off between them, she really became obsessed, calling him multiple times a day, finding reasons to increase the number of sessions she was paying for, and even sitting outside his home watching him as he went about his day. At some point, she realized he was never going to be hers, so she decided that if she couldn’t have him, she didn’t want to live and once again began thinking about suicide. She said she eventually realized that if anyone was going to die, it should be him, so she shot him and then set his house on fire.”

  “So why invite me to have a front-row seat at his house fire? I mean, she was the one who set the time and place for us to meet.”

  “I don’t know. She didn’t say, but you mentioned that she might have used you to create some sort of an alibi.”

  “And Dale’s car? Is she the one who left it at the ski resort?” That part made no sense to me.

  “I asked her about the car, and she said she wasn’t the one who moved it. She might be lying, but I don’t know why she’d lie about that after confessing to killing two men. At this point, I still don’t know how it got there or why it was left there. I may never know, but I’m not sure it’s important. It could be that Dale went skiing and parked in the lot, but left the car behind at the end of the day for some reason.”

  “What reason?”

  Cass shrugged. “Maybe it wouldn’t start, or maybe he’d had a lot to drink, so he got a ride and intended to go back for it. There are a number of reasons he might have parked his car in the lot and left it there. I suppose it’s also possible that someone stole it or borrowed it and left it in the lot. As I said, we may never know.”

  “Okay, so back to the murders. I guess I understand why Lissa killed Dale, but why did she kill Frank White?”

  He took a sip of his iced tea and then held up the glass, indicating he’d like a refill. I got up to refill the glass while he finished off his roast. Once he was done, he continued. “That’s the part I find interesting. She said she really didn’t have a reason and that it just happened. I asked additional questions, but all she really did was offer a few vague answers, which made no sense. Even though this woman admitted to killing two men, and, in fact, had a motive to kill one of the two, by the time the interview came to an end, I was pretty much of the mind that she was lying.”

  “Why would anyone lie about killing two people?”

  He shrugged. “I’m not sure. Maybe she’s covering for someone.”

  “Who?”

  “Again, I’m not sure. Margo told me that Lissa told her that Frank White was dead and had been shot. This was before I even knew about his demise, so I am operating under the assumption that she had inside information about his death, but if you stop to think about it, given the timeline, Lissa would have had to have been chatting with Margo and killing Frank at the same time.”

  “That’s true.” I realized. “But you did say that you found gasoline in Lissa’s garage. That sounds like she set the fires.”

  “I don’t disagree with that, but something seems off to me. I suppose I should be happy I have a confession and simply move on, but I can’t help feeling that the wrong person is sitting in county jail.”

  “Okay, I won’t discount your gut feeling, but if Lissa isn’t guilty of killing the two men, who is?”

  Cass cleared his throat. “I actually have two theories. In my mind, it seems plausible that she killed Dale and burned down his house, but less plausible that she killed Frank. If she did kill Dale but didn’t kill Frank, I suppose in some twisted way she might have decided that she was going to prison for murder, so what difference would it make to just go ahead and confess to both murders.”

  “Yeah, but why would she do that?”

  “Like I said before, if this scenario is true, maybe she is covering for whoever killed Frank.”

  “Maybe she really did kill Frank for some odd reason we haven’t put together yet,” I pointed out.

  “Maybe, but keep in mind that the timeline is off if Lissa is the killer. I asked Lissa about this, and she said that maybe Margo was mistaken about things. I spoke to Margo again, and she told me she is pretty sure of the timeline she described.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back in my chair. “This whole thing is absurd. How are you going to find out whether or not Lissa is lying, and if she is, why she is lying?”

  “I’ll let her stew on things a bit. She’s going to spend the night in county jail. I’m going to talk to her again tomorrow and see if I can trip her up or get her to change her story.”

  Chapter 15

  Monday

  When I stopped by the newspaper on Monday morning, I was greeted at the door by Gabby, who gave me a big hug.

  “I got matched by Ms. Cupid,” she squealed in delight.

  “Really?” I grinned in return. “Who’d you get matched with?”

  “Cass Wylander.”

  My face fell. “Cass?”

  She laughed. “No, not Cass. I was just messing with you, but based on your expression when you thought I had been matched to Cass, I’m no longer willing to accept your just friends classification of your relationship. It is obvious you are into him, and he is into you. Why not move things along a bit?”

  “I have my reasons. But back to you. Give me all the details.”

  “Okay.” Gabby took my hand and led me to her desk. We sat down. “When I logged onto my computer this morning, there was an email from Ms. Cupid. She told me that I’d been matched and a date had been arranged. I’m to show up at the bowling alley on Wednesday at seven-thirty. Once I arrive, I’m to tell the man behind the counter that Ms. Cupid sent me.”

  “And you don’t know who you’re supposed to meet?”

  She shook her head. “The email didn’t say. It just said when and where to meet. It also said to wear comfortable shoes and to bring a warm jacket. Apparently, the details of the date have been worked out and paid for by Ms. Cupid, and all I have to do is show up. I assume the man I’ve been matched with received a similar email.”

  “It seems to be a crazy way to do things, but I guess Ms. Cupid knows what she’s doing. I assume you plan to show up as instructed.”

  “Oh yeah. I can’t wait to find out who I’m destined to grow old with.”

  “I wonder why she’s keeping the name of your match a secret.”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I know that at least some of the matched applicants knew right off who they’d been matched with. It did occur to me that Ms. Cupid might suspect that either I or my match wouldn’t want to date the person selected if not forced into a situation where the date was a done deal. I suppose by not revealing the names until the date takes place, it would lessen the chance that one or both of us would back out.”

  “If that’s true, does that make you nervous about what might come next?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “I’m not really worried. Even if the guy I’m matched with is someone who I might not have chosen as a date, I’m willing to see how it all works out. In spite of my opinion on the matter to this point, it isn’t like I’m
in any way committed to marrying the guy.”

  “I guess that’s true. I’m usually free on Wednesday evenings. Maybe I’ll drop by the bowling alley and see who Ms. Cupid selected for you for myself.”

  “Stop by, but stay out of the way. I don’t want anything to mess this up for me.”

  Dex walked in while I was chatting with Gabby, so I followed him to his office to hand in the two articles I’d written over the weekend. When I told him Ms. Cupid had arranged a date for Gabby, he was almost as excited as she was that she’d been matched. He really did think that an insider’s perspective would be exactly what my series needed to make it seem real to the subscribers who followed it.

  “I have another assignment for you this week,” Dex announced. “Two actually. One will be due by Thursday, but the other is a feature that I’d like you to take your time with.”

  “Okay. I’m interested. What do you have?” I really hoped that at least one of the two would be an actual news article and not just another fluff piece.

  “The article that is due Thursday is an opinion piece about the movement in the area to bring in large resorts. I know you covered the town council meeting last week, where the subject was debated. You did a good job presenting both sides in an unbiased manner. I thought you could expand on that and maybe do some resident interviews. I’m interested in quotes from both sides of the fence. Folks who will either be hurt or helped by an increase in tourism.”

  “I can do that,” I said, happy to have something tangible to sink my teeth into. “And the other article?”

  “This spring is the anniversary of the disappearance of Austin Brady.”

  “Austin Brady is the kid who went missing from Logan Pond a quarter of a century ago.”

  Dex nodded. “He’d been with five friends who’d decided to cut school and go fishing, so they headed to Logan Pond for an overnight trip. The group was together telling campfire stories that first night, but when everyone woke the following morning, Austin was gone. He was never found, and none of the boys he was with claim to have seen or heard a thing. Most folks figure he might have wandered away and got lost. While that could be what happened, Austin was a smart kid. And he wasn’t a helpless baby. He was twelve, almost thirteen. He’d lived in Foxtail Lake his entire life and knew the area well.”