The Mourning Mail (FINAL)

Chapter 9

PRESENT DAY

The financial safety net Dad provided me in his will was a godsend, allowing me to meet my monthly obligations. At the same time, I'd be free to pursue my goals and go wherever my talents would take me, insulated from purely mercenary employers. It was a gift that recognized my flaws while empowering my dreams.

I knew that these in-the-wind letters and their return to their rightful owner had become paramount to Dad. So much so that he made me aware of those envelopes and requested my help as the last acts of his life. That request may have been his best gift of all, a way to repay him in part for his generosity. The task, even including revealing a potential homicide, was something I could do easily enough, work that I was trained for. And the chance to grant his last wish gave me all the motivation I would ever need.

But to be brutally honest, the timing also worked for me. I was looking for unique stories to tell, pieces that would set me apart from other freelance reporters.

Still, before I could tackle those letters, I had more urgent business to attend to—the murder of Coach Cantor.

I called Cassidy Plame née Cantor to express my condolences and to ask her permission to investigate what had happened to her father. We'd remained friends over the years, although since she'd moved to San Francisco we didn't see much of each other. Still, we talked from time to time, and she'd followed my career. She welcomed my help now. While she had confidence that the police would do what they could, she knew they were working from few clues.

It was seven p.m. by the time I got to Coach's house, purchased long after I'd grown up. I hadn't been here often. The yellow-bulbed porch light cast a warm, inviting glow over the entrance, contrasting with the heavy feeling in my heart. I rang the lighted doorbell, disappointed that it didn't have video that might have provided clues—likely a reflection of Coach's frugality.

As I waited for Cassidy to answer, I scanned the front of the home. It was a large, older frame house in the Craftsman style, painted a cream color, with a river stone façade halfway up the exterior walls. Completing the front of the house was a wrap-around porch in dark green enamel flooring, with an oak swing that faced the street. I could see the home's residents and visitors used the swing often; the finish was wearing away from the seat's arms, as well as the front and back slats. Frequent sitters had squashed the sun-faded cushions nearly flat.

The door opened. "Hi, Cassidy, it's good to see you again. I'm so sorry it's under these circumstances," I said, and we hugged. Whereas Coach had been tall and slender, Cassidy took after her mother, her physique shorter, rounder, and softer. I knew from past conversations that she struggled to lose the baby weight after Shannon was born and she'd since given up the fight. Her eyes were rimmed in red from crying, and she held a crumpled tissue in her right hand.

"You're looking well, Debra Ann. Thank you for coming over," Cassidy said. "Father was always proud of the girls he coached and taught. I know he was pleased with how well you've done for yourself. He's said as much. He would have been grateful that you'd want to help."

"I was just devastated when I heard the news," I said. "I still can't believe it. Lindsay Barnes told me when she was doing my hair. Such an incredible shame, and I can't for the life of me understand why anyone would do this, especially to him, of all people."

"Lindsay called me after it happened," Cassidy said, dabbing at her eyes with the tissue. "She was nearly as upset as I was. No one has any idea what could have led to this. The police were all over the place looking for any kind of evidence.

"They say it looks like Father let the murderer in. Maybe he knew them. They traced footsteps to the La-Z-Boy and the couch, but Father was shot twice without either of them sitting down. The killer must have worn gloves; there's nothing that says they went anywhere else in the house." She sounded defeated.