The Blue Butterfly: A Liz Lucas Cozy Mystery

by Dianne Harman

  Liz drove to the far side of Red Cedar and into a residential area of small sad-looking homes. Little attention or money had been spent on their upkeep, and there was a depressing feeling to the neighborhood. She found the address that Mark had given her for Brad Cassidy and parked on the street in front of his house. The neighborhood had been built before sidewalks were mandatory and without the benefit of a curb, weed choked lawns spilled into the street.

  “I promised Roger I’d take you everywhere I go, so let’s use the therapy dog excuse again, but to make it look legitimate, I’m going to put you on a leash,” she said as she got out of her van and opened the door for Winston. As soon as he was on the street she put his leash on him.

  The walkway leading to the house was badly cracked and weeds threatened to completely overtake the little cement that could be seen. She looked up at the house and saw where sheets had been hung in the windows in place of curtains. The house was badly in need of paint, and a tarp that was draped over half of the roof indicated there had been a roof leak which the Cassidy family couldn’t afford to repair.

  She knocked on the door, and it was answered by Brad Cassidy. She recognized him from the photograph Joan Markham had given her. Her niggle was absolutely silent, and as ill as this man looked she found it hard to believe he could have had the strength to be involved in any way with David Sanders’ death.

  “Mr. Cassidy, my name is Liz Langley. I’m helping Police Chief Seth Williams with a criminal investigation. I’d like to talk to you for a few minutes if you’re feeling up to it.”

  He looked her up and down and then said, “Why would you assume I wouldn’t be up to talking to you?” he asked.

  “If you’ll let me in, I’ll tell you all about it.”

  “All right. I’m curious about why you’re here, but I’ll have to ask you to leave the dog outside. My wife’s allergic to dogs.”

  “That’s not a problem.” She turned to Winston and said, “Sit. Stay.” The big dog sat down on the front porch stoop, and Liz walked into the house. She didn’t want to embarrass Brad, but she was appalled at how little furniture was in the front room. An old television was turned on, but the fuzzy shadowy images indicated it needed some work by a television repairman. There was a threadbare brown couch with a worn blanket on it where Liz assumed Brad spent most of his time. Two grey chairs looked like they’d been rescued from someone’s yard just before the trash truck took them.

  He closed the door behind him and said, “Would you tell me what this is about and how you know me?”

  Liz sat down and in a soft and caring voice began to speak, “Mr. Cassidy, you have a lot of friends, and they’re worried about you. I know you have cancer, and I’ve heard that you believe you got it from being exposed to formaldehyde at Jefferson Lumber Company when you were working there, but that’s not why I’m here.”

  “How did you know all that?” he asked.

  “It’s not important. I’m trying to help the police chief, Seth Williams, find out who murdered a man by the name of David Sanders.”

  “Don’t know anything about that. Television hasn’t been working very good lately, and we don’t take a paper, so I’m not really up to date on any recent news events. Who was he?”

  “He was with the Forestry Service and was on the Jefferson Lumber property trying to confirm a sighting of a Lotis Blue butterfly which is on the Endangered Species List.”

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Langley, but none of what you’re saying seems to have anything to do with me. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  She held up her hand. “Please, let me continue. Mr. Sanders was murdered three days ago late in the afternoon on some Jefferson Lumber Company property located on the far side of town. An anonymous person happened to be taking photographs of people who were in the area at that time. Your photograph was one of those taken, and you were standing next to a Jefferson Lumber Company sign. Could you tell me why you were on that property at that time?” She handed him the photograph that clearly showed he’d been on the property.

  He looked at it for a few moments and then said, “That’s me, and yes, I was there that day.”

  “Pardon me, Mr. Cassidy, but I understand you have cancer, and you’re going through chemotherapy treatments at the present time. Why would you waste your limited strength and energy to go out to that property?”

  Brad put his head in his hands, and a dry sob escaped from his throat. After several minutes he took his hands away from his face and looked at Liz. “When I found out I had cancer I wrote a letter to Mr. Jefferson telling him my doctor was certain I’d gotten it from the formaldehyde used at the plywood plant where I worked. The doctor felt the plant manager had not taken the necessary safety precautions required when people work with it. In my letter to Mr. Jefferson I told him I didn’t plan on suing Jefferson Lumber, because I know what hard times the lumber companies have been going through recently. I didn’t want the company to go out of business because of some big lawsuit. I have a lot of friends who work there, and I didn’t want to be responsible for them losing their jobs.”

  “That’s a much more caring attitude than most people would have had,” Liz said.

  “Well, be that as it may, I couldn’t do it to my friends, but in my letter I asked Mr. Jefferson if he would pay my medical bills when my insurance ran out. There was a cap on the amount the insurance company would pay for cancer treatment, and I knew I was about to exceed it. He never answered my letter.

  “I was in Afghanistan for two tours of duty, and I didn’t think life could get much worse than what I experienced when I was over there. I was so glad to come home, be with my family, and have a good job. But life took a turn for the worse when I got this cancer, and now I feel like my life is getting about as bad as it was over there.”

  Brad looked at Liz and continued, “Becky, she’s my wife, is working two jobs, and we still can’t make ends meet. We’re going farther and farther into debt every month. I don’t know what will happen to her and the boys if I live, and I don’t know what will happen to them if I die. I feel like I’m in a no-win situation that I didn’t have anything to do with.”

  “I’m so sorry, Mr. Cassidy,” Liz said putting her hand on his arm, “but I still don’t understand what this has to do with why you were on the Jefferson Lumber property that afternoon.”

  “I was hooked up to the chemo drip when the idea came to me that if I talked to Mr. Jefferson in person I might be able to make him understand how desperate I was becoming. I knew I’d never get past his secretary if I went to his office. I remembered some of the guys saying that late every afternoon he went to the part of the forest where the trees had been logged that day to see what progress had been made and find out if there were any problems. I knew where they were logging, and I figured he’d be there.”

  “Did you have a chance to talk to him?”

  “No. I waited for about thirty minutes, and then I felt so weak I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to make it back home if I stayed any longer. I’d borrowed my mother-in-law’s car because mine had been repossessed, and I sure didn’t want to get in an accident. I left and never did see him.”

  “Did you see any other people there?”

  “I saw a young couple, a man and a woman. The only other thing I remember seeing was a Forestry Service car in the parking lot. I was hurting pretty bad by then and just wanted to get home.”

  “I understand. Thank you for talking to me. I wish I could help you.”

  “Mrs. Langley, how did you know that the man in the photograph was me?”

  “I showed that photo to a person that happened to know you, and that person gave me your name. I looked your name up in the phone book and got your address. Trust me, the person who gave me your name is someone who cares deeply for you and wants to help you. His way of helping was to assure me you had nothing to do with the murder of David Sanders, and he felt the best way to have your name cleared was for me to talk to you. I think
he was right about you having nothing to do with the murder.”

  “That’s for sure. I don’t think I’d even have the energy to kill Mr. Jefferson if he was sitting across from me, and I’d be far more inclined to do something like that rather than murder some guy who worked for the Forestry Service. Wouldn’t make any sense.”

  Liz stood up and put out her hand. “I agree. I don’t know what I can do for you, but I certainly will try and think of something. I know someone who has the ear of Lewis Jefferson. Maybe I can get him to help. Stay where you are. I’ll let myself out.” She stood up and walked over to the door.

  “If you can do anything, I’d appreciate it. I know that worrying like I am isn’t going to help the cancer go away, but it’s about the only thing I can do.”

  “Good-bye Mr. Cassidy. For whatever it’s worth, I’ll be sending healing thoughts your way.”

  “Thanks,” he said lying down on the couch. She closed the door softly behind her and shook her head with a feeling of deep sadness.

  That may be the most depressing hour I’ve ever spent. I can’t believe that Lewis Jefferson didn’t even answer his letter. I wonder if he told Roger about it.

  She opened the door of the van for Winston and headed for the lodge, knowing Gina would be waiting for her since she would be arriving late for the second day in a row.

  CHAPTER 23

  “Gina, I am so sorry I’m late again. I’m beginning to feel like a lousy employer. This is the second day in a row I’ve made you wait. I promise it won’t happen again.”

  “Don’t worry, Liz. I saw Seth Williams this morning, and since he knows I’m working here, he told me you were helping him solve the murder of Gertie’s step-brother. I imagine that’s been on your mind as much as getting ready for the nightly dinners you prepare for the guests here at the lodge.”

  “Yes, that’s true. I had several meetings this morning about it. Again, I’m really sorry about this. Give me just a minute, and we’ll get started.” She put her purse down on the counter and as she did, the clasp hit the edge of the countertop and sprang open, spilling the contests of her purse onto the floor.

  “Liz, why don’t you put your apron on and get the recipes for what we’ll be serving tonight? I’ll put all this stuff on the floor back in your purse,” Gina said.

  “Thanks. We’re a little tight on time for what we’ll be preparing for dinner. Give me one more minute. I want to go to the bathroom before we start. I’ll be right back.” When she returned she saw Gina peering intently at one of the photographs which had fallen out of her purse. “What is it, Gina?” Liz asked.

  “It’s none of my business, and if you don’t want to tell me, I’ll understand, but I’m curious why you have a picture of Olivia in your purse.”

  Liz looked over Gina’s shoulder. She was holding the photograph the gallery owner had taken of the young woman who she had seen leaving the Jefferson Lumber property. “Do you know her?” Liz asked.

  “Yes, very well. She’s one of my best friends, although I don’t see her as often as I did before she went to school at UC Berkeley.”

  “Please, tell me what you know about her. I’ve been trying to find someone who could identify the young woman in the photograph.”

  “Sure, I can help. I’ve known her forever. Her name is Olivia Jameson. She’s my age, and we went all through school together. After we graduated from high school she went to Berkeley, and I stayed in Red Cedar, because my family couldn’t afford for me to go away to college. Her mother had a heart attack a couple of months ago, and Olivia moved back home to take care of her mother and her two younger sisters. I’ve only talked to her a few times since then.”

  “Gina,” Liz said, “do you have her telephone number? I’d really like to talk to her.”

  “It’s on my cell phone contact list, but I left my phone at home. I usually carry it with me everywhere I go, but I needed to charge it, so I figured since I’d be working here this afternoon it would be a good time to do it.”

  “When you get home would you text me and let me know her number? I’ll give her a call tomorrow. Actually, we really do need to get started on what we’re going to serve for dinner tonight, so it’s probably a good thing you don’t have it, or I’d spend time calling her rather than doing what needs to be done. Let me write out a few instructions for you.” A few minutes later she handed Gina a list and three recipes. She said, “I’ll be working along with you. If you need any help, just ask.”

  The rest of the afternoon flew by as they completed the preparations for the evening’s dinner. They’d just finished changing their clothes and lighting the candles when the first guest knocked on the door. A few minutes later Roger walked up the stairs, having used the outside door to their downstairs living quarters rather than entering through the main door of the lodge. He kissed Liz on the cheek and joined the other guests as they shared their day’s spa experiences and enjoyed the wine and cheese Liz and Gina had set out for them.

  *****

  Later that evening as Gina was leaving, Liz reminded her to text her with Olivia’s phone number. After she locked the front door Liz walked down the stairs to join Roger who had told her he needed to check a couple of his emails. She walked into his office and said, “Get everything done?”

  “Yes. Sorry I didn’t stay to help you and Gina clean up, but there were a couple of things I really needed to do. I’m finished now. What did you think of the meeting with Mark?”

  “I liked him, and I think he’s a wonderful man for what he’s doing to help Brad. I had a long talk with Gertie, and then I went over to Brad’s house and talked to him.” She summed up her conversations with them and said, “Roger, I’m really troubled with something that has nothing to do with David’s murder.”

  “What is it? You look depressed. Is everything okay with your kids? Is anything wrong?”

  “The children are fine, but I think there’s something really wrong with our world when a man goes to Afghanistan, defends our country, comes home, and gets cancer. To make matters worse, the cancer was probably caused by his being exposed to dangerous chemicals at work, so he writes a letter to the person in charge of the company where he works asking for help, and his letter is never answered.”

  “Why do I have a feeling this is about Jefferson Lumber Company?” Roger asked.

  “Because it is, and I think it stinks,” she said in a raised voice. She continued, “Did you know that Brad Cassidy wrote Lewis Jefferson a letter telling him he wouldn’t sue Jefferson Lumber Company if Lewis would agree to pay his medical expenses when his insurance runs out?”

  “No, Lewis never mentioned it to me. I wonder if he even got the letter. That doesn’t sound like him.”

  “Well, if he did get it, and he ignored it, I’m putting him at the top of my ‘Shameful People’ list.”

  “I’d prefer to think he didn’t get it. I’ll ask him about it the next time I talk to him.”

  “I’d rather you didn’t. My niggle’s acting up. I have no idea why, but it seems to be telling me that you shouldn’t say anything right now. Let me think about it for a bit.”

  “Out of deference to you I won’t, but I’m just as curious about it as you are. I’ve always thought I was a pretty good judge of character. I’d hate to find out I made a big mistake in thinking he was one of the good guys.”

  “I haven’t known you to be wrong too many times, so maybe it’s all some big mistake. Anyway, I was able to find out the name of the young woman who was in the photograph that Joan Markham, the owner of the gallery, gave me.”

  “That’s good news. How did you do that?”

  “My purse came open when I was in the kitchen and everything fell out of it onto the floor. Gina happened to see the photograph of the young woman. She was curious why I would have a photo of one of her friends in my purse. I didn’t tell her anything about it, just that I was trying to find out who she was. Gina didn’t have the phone number for Olivia, that’s her name, with
her because it was on her cell phone, and she’d left it at home, so she could charge it. She’s going to text me when she gets home, and I’ll call Olivia tomorrow.”

  “Sounds like you’re making some progress on the case. Have you talked to Seth recently?”

  “No. I don’t want to tell him anything, because he’d probably go to Gertie’s and tell whoever is there everything he knows. Discretion is a term that doesn’t seem to be in his vocabulary.”

  Roger laughed. “I certainly agree with you on that. I’m going to have to end this conversation and turn in for the night. I’ve got meetings all day tomorrow. Looks like more and more of the clients who used to go to our San Francisco office have decided my satellite office is a lot closer. If this keeps up I’m going to have to hire another secretary. Jessica’s the best secretary I’ve ever worked with, but she can only do so much. She hasn’t said anything, but I’m getting the distinct feeling she’s a bit frustrated.”

  “I’ll join you. Whatever sleuthing I do tomorrow had better be done in the morning, because I’ve been late getting back to the lodge the last two days, and Gina’s had to sit in the kitchen doing nothing but waiting for me to return.”

  “And what you’re not saying is that you’re paying her to sit.”

  “You’ve got that right. I’m sure a business consultant would say that is a very bad business practice, and they’d probably be right,” Liz said as she stood up to join him.

  As Roger turned off the light in his study he said, “That might be, but I don’t think you can put a financial value on something when it comes to helping people, and that’s what you’re doing. I, for one, think it’s more important than anything defined by dollars and cents.”