When Cassidy Towne’s assistant, Cecily, reported for work at eight she broke down in sobs. Forensics gave Nikki Heat the OK, and she righted two of the chairs in the living room and sat with her, resting a palm on the young woman’s back as Cecily leaned forward with her face in her hands. CSU had closed off the kitchen, so Rook gave her the bottle of water he had in his messenger bag.
“Hope you don’t mind room temperature,” he said, and then shot an oops look at Heat. But if Cecily made the connection to her boss’s state in the next room, she didn’t let on.
“Cecily,” Nikki said, when she finished a sip of water, “I know this must be very traumatic for you.”
“You have no idea.” The assistant’s lips began to tremble, but she kept it together. “Do you realize this means I have to find a new job?”
Nikki’s gaze slowly rose to Rook, who stood facing her. She knew him well enough to know he wanted his water back. “How long had you been with Ms. Towne?”
“Four years. Since I graduated Mizzou.”
“University of Missouri has an intern program with the Ledger,” Rook injected. “Cecily transitioned from it to Cassidy’s column.”
“That must have been quite an opportunity,” said Nikki.
“I guess. Am I going to have to, like, clean all this up?”
“I think our crime scene unit is going to be busy here for most of the day. My guess is the paper will probably let you take some time off while we do our thing.” That seemed to mollify her for the moment, so Nikki pressed on. “I need to ask you to think about something, Cecily. It may be difficult at this moment, but it’s important.”
“ ’K . . .”
“Can you think of anyone who wanted to kill Cassidy Towne?”
“You’re kidding, right?” Cecily looked up at Rook. “She’s kidding, right?”
“No, Detective Heat doesn’t kid. Trust me.”
Nikki leaned closer in her chair to draw Cecily’s attention back. “Look, I know she was a lightning rod and all that. But over the past days or few weeks, were there any unusual incidents or threats she got?”
“Oh, every day, like literally. She didn’t even see them. When I sort her mail at the Ledger, I just leave them there in a big sack. Some of them are pretty random.”
“If we gave you a ride there, could we see them?”
“Uh, sure. You’d probably have to get the managing editor to sign off, but fine with me.”
“Thanks, I’ll do that.”
“She got calls,” said Rook, “her Ledger extension forwarded to here.”
“Oh, right, right.” Cecily looked around at the mess. “If you can find it, her answering machine has some nasty shit on it. She screened.” Nikki made a note to locate it and have the messages gone through for leads.
“I know something else that’s missing,” said Rook. “No filing cabinets. She had big filing cabinets in the corner near the door.”
The idea of a filing cabinet hadn’t occurred to Nikki. Not yet, anyway. Score one for Rook.
“There should be two in there,” affirmed the assistant. She leaned forward in her chair to venture a look into the study but decided against it.
Heat made a note about the AWOL filing cabinets. “Other things that might be helpful would be her appointments. I assume you have access to her Outlook calendar.” Cecily and Rook shared a look of amusement. “Am I missing something?”
Rook said, “Cassidy Towne was a Luddite. Everything was on paper. Didn’t use a computer. Didn’t trust them. She said she liked their convenience, but it was too easy for someone to steal your material. E-mail forwards, hackers, what not.”
“But I do have her planner.” The assistant opened her backpack and handed Nikki the spiral-bound datebook. “I have old ones, too. Cassidy had me hang on to them for documenting business meals and for tax prep.”
Nikki looked up from a recent page. “There are two sets of handwriting in here.”