I want to thank all of you who took the time to read my fanfiction and leave reviews. I truly appreciate it. I also want to wish you wonderful holiday season.

CHAPTER SEVEN

When Perry got back to his office with Paul Drake, Della had a pile of files with her and a puzzled look on her face. He walked to her desk and asked his head of office, "what's wrong, now, Della?"

Her hazel eyes were troubled as she tried to explain. "There is something strange here. Gertie and I were picking up papers and noticed the papers on top were forms we use in the office, carbon paper, blank stationary, and envelopes. Underneath were files, but a lot were in order as if they grabbed files and dropped them on the floor."

"What do you think that means?" Perry wanted to know.

Speaking in a halting voice she answered, "I think they were looking for a specific file or files. Now we have to put them in order and back into the cabinets, and I will have to get our master list and compare it to the files we find."

"Alright," the lawyer said, "If we can find out which case file is missing that could go a long way to giving us an idea who is behind all of this."

"That's true," she admitted. "Now we have to get this done quickly. The only problem I see is, there are files in every room and we have to make sure we find them all…..."

Paul interrupted, "at least it will give us a starting point we haven't had yet. However, I need to have you come into Perry's office. We've discovered something and need to ask you about it."

Mystified she followed him back into the private office where Perry was going through papers taken from his desk. Looking up he asked, "What's going on Paul.

The tall lanky detective settled himself crosswise in the big client's chair. "Well, we did find out something and I wanted to ask Della directly before I said anything to you."

Sitting up straighter, Mason looked at his wife. "Do you know what this is about Del?"

Shrugging her shoulders, she explained, "I completely baffled."

"Alright," he asked pulling out his ever-present notebook, "who is Bill Cassidy?"

Della sank into a chair as she answered. "Wow that is a name from the past."

Tilting his head slightly Perry looked at her with a puzzled expression on his face. "I don't remember you ever mentioning that name."

Her face was slightly flushed as she answered. "I haven't mentioned every man I have ever known to you, dear."

Paul laughed, "she's got you there, Pal."

"So just who is he and why are you bringing his name up now?" The lawyer wanted to know.

Looking at the beautiful brunette the P.I. said, "You first, doll."

"He's a man I met just after I came to California. We dated a few times, he was very controlling, and he lied about being divorced. I had been staying with Aunt Mae as I looked for a job. I went to work for that law firm and moved to L.A. Bill was supposed to help me move. He never showed up. That's how I found out he was still married."

Paul spoke up as he paged through his ever-present notebook. "Well he has been watching you or trying to."

The secretary was up out of her chair. "He's been following me? Is he the one who has been vandalizing everything?"

"Here's what we know. "It seems he recently got that divorce. His kids are all grown up now. He came looking for you, but of course you have an unlisted number. Next, Cassidy went looking for Mae, but she is on that two-month cruise. The neighbors told him that, but said they did not know how to find you. Mrs. Montavo, the next door neighbor told us they did not tell him where you worked. He got that information from your old law firm."

Della looked at Perry and said, "well that's just great."

"So, what did he do next, Paul?" the lawyer inquired.

"I guess he didn't want to tangle with you after asking a lot of questions down at Clay's, and reading stories about the two of you in the newspapers. At least that's what he told Fred Faulkner. He said he just wanted to talk to Della, but you were always around. He did follow you home, and he thinks you live in the same apartment house since Della still goes by the name Street."

Perry scratched the back of his head, "I haven't noticed anyone around especially since we started having problems."

"The way we spotted him was that one of my operatives noticed him at the restaurant, in the elevator, a couple times in the hallway, but he didn't seem to be working here or visiting anyone. With everything happening they got a little suspicious. Of course, he had to come at odd hours when he wasn't working." Paul explained.

"Where did he work? Do you remember Della?" Perry wanted to know.

She thought for a moment and finally seemed to recall, "it seems he worked for an aerospace company, but I don't remember which one."

Thumbing through his notebook the detective asked, "Does Barnard-Weber ring a bell?"

"You know that does sound familiar," she told him.

Mason commented, looking at his wife from under his long eyelashes, "perhaps we could have your friend up here and you could get reacquainted."

"Peeeerrrrryyyyy!" she exclaimed indignantly.

Holding up his hands he commented, "just a suggestion."

"Listen you two, I don't really think he is the culprit, but if you want him up here we can do that.

"Well I don't want to be here if you do." She told them firmly. "I suppose you would like to look him over, Mr. Mason."

"I would, but Paul, see if you can find out where he has been the last few days. Then if you think it is worthwhile I'll have a talk with the gentleman.

Grinning at his wife he said, "he needs to know you aren't available."

"You are incorrigible." She remarked as she got out of her chair. "I'm going to make some coffee."

"Well counselor, what do you want us to do next." The investigator wanted to know.

"Frankly I'm stymied," the lawyer admitted. "It doesn't make sense." Just then the telephone rang.

Della grabbed it and they heard her say, "Oh no! Alright I'll tell them."

Her face was chalky white as she came around the corner into his private office. Getting up and hurrying toward her Perry reached for her arm, "What now?" He tried to sound calm.

"That was Tragg, Mildreth's florist shop was just vandalized."

Helping her to a chair he looked at his private detective and asked, "What next? This is getting out of hand."

Out of his chair quickly Drake headed for the door saying, "I'm on

my way. Which store was it?"

"It's the Broadway store." Her voice was shaky.

"Let us know when you have something." The lawyer reminded him.

As he headed out the door Paul assured them he would be in touch.

Once he door closed he took his wife in his arms to soothe her. "I'm scared," she told him.

"So am I, "he admitted.