by Kathi Daley
“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.”
Chapter 12
The grand opening of the bakery was a small affair with only a handful of residents making the trip into town for a free donut on a cold and snowy morning. The arts and crafts fair at the community center had a slightly better turnout, but it seemed to me that perhaps these sorts of events would be better attended if they were held during the warmer months, or at least later in the day once the sun had a chance to make an impression.
I knew all Dex was really looking for was a short article that described the event, and maybe a quote or two, and a photo to go with the feature. I was able to get what I needed from the bakery in less than twenty minutes, so I arrived at the craft fair ahead of schedule. The arts and crafts fair was actually more of a flea market since, in addition to the new and original crafts and works of art, some folks were selling used items as well. I wasn’t big on this sort of thing, but many of the crafters had interesting items on display.
“Is that Callie Collins?”
“Margo.” I turned and hugged the woman who had called out my name. We’d been fairly good friends in high school, but I hadn’t seen her since I left town shortly after graduation.
“I heard you were back. How’ve you been? You look fantastic as always.”
“I’ve been good,” I smiled. “I guess you heard that I was in an accident that ended my music career, but I’ve settled into my new job at the newspaper and find I’m quite enjoying this next phase of my life. How are Troy and the kids?”
“The kids are good. Troy and I split. I haven’t seen him in almost five years.”
“I’m so sorry. I hadn’t heard.” I glanced around the area. “Are you here shopping, or do you have crafts to sell?”
“Actually, I’m helping Hope Mansfield with the book sale for the library. We have a booth in the back near the stage.” She pointed to a location over her shoulder.
“I haven’t gotten that far yet, but I’ll be sure to stop and say hi before I go. It’s been really good running into you. I’d love to really catch up. Maybe we can do lunch sometime.”
“I’d love to do lunch. My kids make it hard to get away on the weekends, but I normally have a flexible workday during the week. I’m not sure about this next week, however. I work at the town offices, and with the death of the mayor, I’m anticipating a heavier than normal workload.”
“So, you worked for Mayor White?”
She nodded. “I work for the town as a clerk. Been there ten years, and while I won’t go so far as to say it’s my dream job, the hours are good, the pay is bet
ter than I can make as a waitress and the benefits are really appreciated having four kids to raise on my own.”
“Yes, I can see that a job with the town would be a good job to have. And I do understand that things might be busy for you for a while. I’ll leave you my number, and you can call me when things calm down a bit. I really would like to catch up when you’re ready. I guess you must be in shock after what happened to the man you worked so closely with.”
She shrugged. “I’m sorry the man is dead, but I’m not all that surprised. I’ll admit that since Frank has been in office, he’s brought about some needed change to what had been a pretty stagnant economy, but his methods tended to make him enemies. Frank seemed to care about the town, or at least what the town could do for him, but he didn’t seem to care about the people in the town. I know that sounds odd, but it’s true. When Lissa Nixon told me that someone had shot and killed the guy, I wasn’t even surprised. I’m afraid that finding the killer isn’t going to be so much about finding someone with motive, it’s going to be about trying to figure out who got to him first.”
“You know Lissa?”
She nodded. “Sure. She works at the market two doors down from the town offices. I go in there almost every day to buy a Pepsi or a bag of chips to snack on. We chat if she isn’t busy. Nice woman. Sort of obsessed with some guy she’s been dating, but nice all the same.”
“Did Lissa ever mention the name of the man she’d been dating?” It seemed odd to me that if she’d been seriously dating Dale, she wouldn’t have said as much.
She slowly moved her head from left to right. “No. I don’t think so. She always calls him Mr. Dreamy. I do find it odd that she refers to him exclusively in this manner. I’ll ask about her day, and she’ll say something like ‘Mr. Dreamy and I went out for a meal last night.’ I guess it is an odd way to refer to a guy you’re dating, but it isn’t like the woman and I are really close on a personal level. I never felt compelled to ask about the man’s given name. I guess I can ask her the next time I see her.”
“Did Lissa ever mention Ms. Cupid to you?” I wondered.
“Sure. The subject has come up. I guess lots of folks are getting matched by this mysterious woman. Lissa made a comment about the whole thing being a hoax. She didn’t seem to be a fan. I think she may have tried to get accepted as a client but never heard back. Of course, then she met Mr. Dreamy, and the whole thing was moot.”
It sounded as if Lissa and Dale hadn’t been Ms. Cupid matched, which I had begun to suspect even before now. But if Lissa hadn’t been matched by Ms. Cupid, why had she told me she had? And why had she arranged for me to speak to Dale, knowing that he would deny the link to the Ms. Cupid service unless Lissa actually did know that Dale wasn’t going to be around to contradict her?
I spoke to Margo a while longer and then continued my rounds, gathering quotes and cute anecdotes for my article. By the time I made it around to the booth run by the library, there was a long line of readers buying used books, so I waved at Hope and indicated that we’d catch up later. Then I headed toward Cass’s office. If he was in, maybe we could have an early lunch so I wouldn’t have to go home and then come back into town. I was more than just a little curious to see what he thought about the conversation I’d had with Margo.
Cass was on the phone when I arrived, but he indicated I should wait for him in the conference room. The large table in the room was covered in partially burnt documents, making it apparent that he was still working on patching things together the best he could. I wasn’t sure if he’d found anything that would help him to figure out who killed the man who’d penned the documents, but I had to give Cass credit for trying to do the seemingly impossible.
“How was the craft fair?” he asked after joining me.
“It was fine. Not really my thing, but I think I got what I needed for my story. I ran into Margo Johnson. I haven’t seen or spoken to her since high school. It was nice to catch up if only briefly. She said she works for the town.”
He nodded. “She’s been the town clerk for a while now. I need to visit the town offices from time to time and usually stop to chat with her. Can you believe she has four children?”
“So, she said. She also said she’s divorced and raising them alone.”
“Yes. It was too bad that her marriage to Troy didn’t work out, but she seems to be doing fine. She has a good job, friends, and quite a few volunteer activities that she participates in.”
“She mentioned that she knows Lissa,” I said, getting to the subject that had been on my mind since I’d spoken to the woman. “She said that, based on conversations she’d had with the woman, it seemed as if Lissa had applied to Ms. Cupid but that she’d never heard back. She also said that Lissa had been dating someone she referred to as Mr. Dreamy, but had never provided an actual name for.”
“Dale?”
“Perhaps. If Mr. Dreamy and Dale are one and the same, according to what Lissa told Margo, it seems as if she met him on her own, and Ms. Cupid was never involved. I don’t know why someone would lie about something like that, but apparently, that’s what she did.” I paused and took a breath. “The thing I’ve been asking myself since I spoke to Margo is why Lissa would tell me she and Dale had been matched by Ms. Cupid and even invite me to speak to Dale about the match when she knew that wasn’t true.”
Cass’s eyes grew wide. “Unless she had reason to believe he would never have a chance to contradict her.”
“Exactly. Lissa took control of the interview from the beginning. I’d had a tip that Lissa was one of Ms. Cupid’s matches, but until she confirmed it, I had no way of knowing if that was fact or simply rumor. After confirming it with her, I asked to interview both her and Dale, and she was the one who suggested that I shouldn’t bother Dale and that she’d arrange everything. We previously discussed that if she’d planned to kill Dale all along, arranging for me to be there as some sort of an alibi wasn’t a bad move.”
“But why kill Frank White?”
I nibbled on my lower lip. “I’m not sure. But Margo said that it was Lissa who’d informed her that Frank had been shot. I wonder if the fact that he was shot and didn’t die as a result of the fire was even common knowledge at that point.”
Cass started rummaging through the documents on the table. “You know, I saw something in here that caught my eye earlier.” He moved the burnt remnants around until he found what he was looking for. “Here it is. The notes I found on this page are handwritten notes by Dale Conover. He talks about a patient who has become obsessed with him. Lissa told us about a woman who’d become obsessed with Dale. I was able to track down a woman who I believed most likely was the woman Lissa had referred to. The woman I spoke to most definitely had a thing for Dale, but she also has an alibi. After speaking to this particular therapy patient, I came away with the impression that rather than being obsessed with her counselor, she really had more of a crush on the guy. A serious crush since she did profess to be in love with him and of him being in love with her, but I wasn’t picking up the Fatal Attraction vibe. If you read the parts of this handwritten report that aren’t damaged, the image that comes through is quite different from the woman I spoke to who simply seemed to have a misguided but normal crush on her therapist. These notes seem to describe a woman who has gone over the edge and will do whatever it takes to get what she wants.”
“You think the obsessed patient Dale wrote about is Lissa.”
“Based on what you’ve just told me, it fits.” Cass got up and began to pace around the office. I also tended to pace when I had something to think through. I waited patiently while he worked things over in his mind. Eventually, he began to speak. “Let’s say that Lissa begins therapy with Doctor Conover for one reason or another. Over time, as therapy patients have been known to do, she falls in love with him. Unlike most doctor-patient infatuations, however, she takes it to the next level and creates a reality that supports her obsession. In her mind, she may even have had a ser
ious and committed relationship with the man.” Cass stopped pacing but kept talking. “Based on his history with the other woman who professed to love him, it does appear he has initiated intimate relationships with at least some of his female patients, only to end things after a few weeks. If his experience with Lissa was similar, it stands to reason that she might have felt the need to support her obsession by creating a fantasy that was never real.”
“So as long as the love affair taking place in her mind was working, things were fine, but as soon as Dale threatened to stop treating her as a patient, she realized she needed to do something to cement her place in his life.”
Cass nodded. He returned to the desk and sat down. “Once she knew that you were interested in writing about her relationship with the man of her fantasies, she realized that if you wrote about their love affair and he died, she’d forever be the love he left behind.”
“That really is sick.”
“But it does make sense in a convoluted sort of way.”
“So how do we prove any of this?” I asked.
“I’m not sure. Yet. But I do think I’m going to do some more digging around in Lissa’s personal affairs. I had started to look at her as a serious suspect, but then Frank White died, and my focus changed. If Lissa knew Frank had been shot, maybe she was the one who killed both men.”
“I guess she might have known you were taking a close look at her as a possible suspect in Dale’s death and wanted to divert suspicion, so she killed someone else and figured the first thing you’d do would be to look for a link between the men.”
“Which is exactly what happened.” Cass looked toward the door. “You said Margo is at the craft fair.”
I nodded. “She’s helping Hope with the library book sale.”
“I think I’d like to stop by and ask her a few additional questions on our way out to grab a bite. If I can establish a timeline showing that Lissa knew Frank had been shot before it was made public that he’d been shot, that just might give me the leverage I need to get a warrant to search her house.”