Fat Cat At Large (A Fat Cat Mystery) (15 page)

A
fter they closed, Chase put off doing the books and decided to go out and treat herself to a frozen yogurt. She would get to balancing the books later. After enjoying her solitary creamy treat, she returned to her parking lot to find an old red Saab pulled up next to the place where she always parked her own little Fusion. Laci Carlson got out of the passenger side and waved to Ted as he drove off.

Chase said hi, noting that Laci’s eyes were red-rimmed. “Are you all right?” Laci must have been waiting here to intercept Chase.

“I guess so,” Laci said, not convincing Chase. “It’s Ted. I think he’s two-timing me. It’s not his fault, though. He’s just so distraught.”

Chase wanted to shake Laci by her thin shoulders. Instead, she stepped within inches, invading the young woman’s physical space so she couldn’t ignore Chase’s words. “Listen to me. If a guy is two-timing you, it’s his fault. There’s no excuse for not working out the problems between you.”

“Oh, we don’t have any problems between us. Ted is just, well . . .”

“Ted is just what?” Ted is just a first-class jerk?

“He’s so upset about his mother, and that jacket thing.” She fingered the pearl button on the frilly cuff of her blouse.

“Why is he upset?” The jacket didn’t seem to incriminate his mother, having tomato sauce on it as it did, and not blood.

“He moved it from the bushes so no one would find it, then the cops did find it. They questioned his mother, and him, for hours and hours.” She kept twisting the button. It was coming loose.

“
He
moved it?
He’s
the one who stashed it behind my store?”

“He didn’t want his mother harassed.” The button fell to the ground with a soft ping. Laci didn’t seem to notice it, but started fiddling with the one on her other sleeve.

“Questioning her is not harassment. She was one of the last people to see her husband alive. The police are just doing their job.”

Laci shrugged, looking at the pavement.

“Laci, listen to me. It might be a good idea for you to stay away from Ted until the authorities find out who killed his father.”

Laci’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

Should she say it? Yes, she should. “I mean, what if Ted killed his father?”

Laci’s took a sharp intake of breath. “He couldn’t, could he?”

Chase shrugged one shoulder. “Who knows? What are you doing here? Did you come to see me?”

Laci nodded, still not meeting Chase’s eyes.

“What about?”

“About working. I need to get back to work. My rent won’t pay itself.”

Chase knew she and Anna couldn’t fire both Vi and Laci, at least not until they hired one or two other clerks to replace them. She hoped they wouldn’t fire either one. “I can’t talk right now. I’m on my way to . . . an important . . . meeting. Come over later and Anna and I will look at the schedule.”

Laci sank a bit toward the pavement she still stared at.

“We’ll get you going right away, okay?”

She murmured an assent and turned away to walk to her nearby apartment.

Why did Chase feel so rotten watching her small, thin form slowly trudge across the parking lot? How could Anna think about firing her?

•   •   •

Sunday crawled by
so slowly, Chase wished they’d decided to close that day. The people of Dinkytown and the U students must have had much better things to do that day than shop for dessert bars.

After she’d eaten lunch, she got a phone call from Detective Olson.

“I want you to come to the station, Ms. Oliver, as soon as possible.”

He sounded stiff and official, and he called her Ms. Oliver. That wasn’t good.

“What’s the matter?” she asked.

“How soon can you get here?”

His voice was not only stiff, it was cold. A shiver clawed at her, slithered around her torso, and tore at her stomach.

“Am I in trouble?”

He didn’t answer, so she said she’d be right down. She called out to Anna that she had to go out for a few moments, not wanting to tell her what she feared—that she might be arrested for Gabe’s murder.

She went upstairs first, to get her purse with her car keys. The chill she’d gotten when Detective Olson called was still with her. She slid her favorite soft gray cashmere sweater over her blouse, then donned her jacket and went downstairs.

•   •   •

Chase didn’t break
down in the parking lot outside the police station. She waited until she was in Julie’s pickup truck.

Julie’s own periwinkle blues filled with tears. Chase swiped at her own tears, feeling guilty she was making Julie cry, her shoulders heaving with the attempt to stifle her blubbering.

“Was it horrible?” Julie asked.

“Worse than horrible,” Chase wailed through her sobs. “I was in that ghastly room for hours and hours after they let me call you. There was a table and a couple of very uncomfortable chairs. They locked the door. I had no idea what was going on. I didn’t know if I’d have to spend days and days there.”

“I wasn’t sure what to do when you said you were being detained.”

“Who was that good-looking guy that got me out?”

Julie waved a hand toward the car leaving the police station parking lot. “Oh, that’s Jay.”

“Jay? Jay who?”

“Jay Wright. I went to law school with him. When you said they were questioning you and had told you to make a phone call, I thought for sure you’d been arrested.”

“I didn’t know what to think. They didn’t tell me much.”

“Jay is working as a criminal lawyer, so I figured he’d be able to do something.”

“He’s awfully good looking.”

“We . . . dated for a while, before we both got so busy in our new jobs. Anyway, he was glad to do me a favor. I’m just thankful you’re not still in there.”

“Me, too,” wailed Chase. She sobbed with Julie’s arms around her, awkwardly, in the bucket seats of the small pickup. Eventually, her sobs turned to snuffles. Julie handed Chase some tissues from the box on the floor and drove Chase to her apartment as quickly as she could without getting a speeding ticket.

After a cup of hot chocolate, topped liberally with miniature marshmallows, Chase slumped in her cinnamon and mocha overstuffed chair while Julie sat on the hassock, warming Chase’s hands, still cold, between hers.

“It was awful,” Chase said. “That was worse than I could ever imagine.”

“You poor thing. What exactly happened?”

“Detective Olson hammered at me for a long time. He was trying to make me say I murdered Gabe Naughtly! I think he was trying to railroad me.”

“Did he say why he thinks you did?”

“He kept asking me if I was sure about the time when I was at the condo. How did I know it was that time? Wasn’t I there earlier? He made me say everything I’ve already said. Over and over and over. The longer I sat there, the more my back hurt.”

“How
is
your back?”

“I’ll take some pain pills as soon as I can move.”

Julie jumped up and brought her two tablets. Chase swallowed them with the last of her cocoa.

“Thanks, Jules. You’re the best.”

“So, here’s what Jay told me. He says a witness placed you at the scene much earlier than you’d said.”

“Did he say who the witness was? Some delusional, blind person? Or someone who hates me enough to want me in the pokey?”

Julie smiled.

“Why suspect me now? Hasn’t everyone given their statements already?”

“Jay says Hilda Bjorn came into the station in the afternoon and said . . . Here, I’ll read it. Jay printed out part of her interview. ‘I remembered another person I saw at Mr. Naughtly’s condo the day he died. I just saw her again. It was that nice girl at the Bar None.’”

“That’s what I get for giving her free merchandise! She already told them she saw me, didn’t she?”

“No, now she says she saw you at a different time, much earlier, soon after both Doris Naughtly and Iversen were there. Here’s what she said. ‘It was right after that tall thin man, Einnar, or Ivanhoe. Iversen? Yes, that’s it. After he left. Probably about four thirty.’ She also says you had blood on your clothes.”

“Why would she say that? That’s simply, absolutely not true! I was there at eight.”

“She sounds a bit confused at times. I’m surprised you were called in on her statement. She was questioned over and over.”

“Not like I was, I’ll bet.”

“She stuck to her story every time. ‘It was that nice girl who gave me the free dessert bars at the Bar None shop. The one with the cat.’”

“Well, I can tell you that I feel like killing someone right now.” Chase set her empty cup down to give her full attention to her purring pet. He arched his back to encourage more petting and upped his volume a notch. Her ire subsided somewhat. “Maybe I could talk to her, to Hilda. Do you think I could help her remember a bit more?”

Julie hesitated a moment. “I think you’d better be careful or someone might think you’re interfering with a witness.”

“Well, anyway, please thank your friend Jay for me.”

“Sure will. You’ve been through a lot tonight. It would be good if you didn’t go to the shop tomorrow. You could stand to sleep in.”

“Don’t I know it. We’re closed Monday, so I will. I think I’ll get a massage, too.”

“Oh, that’s right. That should help your pain. Just remember, I never told you any of this about Hilda Bjorn. Jay was doing me a favor. He shouldn’t be giving me this information.”

“I need to do something extra nice for him. Or maybe you should do that.”

Julie looked like she might like that idea. “Just so you know, I’d probably get fired if anyone knew I told you any of this. I want to keep my job a little longer. If I weren’t so doggone worried about you . . .”

“I appreciate you sticking your neck out for me like this. No one will ever know.”

Julie took both cups and put them in Chase’s sink before hugging her good-night and leaving.

Chase got ready for bed, pondering. She would have to pump Hilda Bjorn carefully to avoid interfering with her.

O
n Monday, the shop was closed. It felt so good to sleep in, Quincy curled against her back in a warm, silky soft ball, that Chase wondered if she could stay in bed all day. Then her back reminded her that she needed to see about getting a massage. After a long soak in the tub with lavender bath salts—which didn’t help her back at all—she called Mike to see if talking to him would cheer her up. But he could only talk for a half a minute, telling her he would be in surgery for a few hours with an emergency for a dog with some sort of problem. Something about X-rays and stomach.

It was past time for her to get a massage. She knew just the place, too. There was a parlor called The Refinery in the next block. Anna went there regularly for mani-pedis. Chase was tempted to go all out and get ninety minutes, but, when she got there, she opted for only an hour. It was late morning already and she thought she’d want lunch before an hour and a half, having grabbed only a fruit bar before her bath. The fruit bar hadn’t stayed with her. She should have eaten a Hula Bar.

The Refinery was a peaceful, soothing place, with an Asian symbol in the front window that, their sign said, meant “purify, cleanse, refine.” If only she could do all three of those in the next hour. There was an appointment available immediately. Maybe this day would continue on a lucky note.

After she’d been kneaded and pressed and rubbed thoroughly to the soothing strains of ambient music, and the masseuse had quietly left and closed the door so she could get dressed, Chase rose from the massage table cautiously, not daring to twist her back and undo what she was feeling. It was so much better, she wanted it to last. She was careful getting dressed, just in case. No pain stepping into her jeans. That was good. No pain bending over to pick up her shoes. Even better.

She felt so good, she decided to walk to Hilda Bjorn’s and talk to her before she lost her nerve. Julie had raised a point that Chase thought might possibly be valid. After all, Julie had a law degree. Just to check, Chase had gotten on the computer and looked up the term
interfering with a witness
, which looked like it had a lot in common with
tampering with a witness
. Tampering seemed to involve threats and physical force. She would avoid those two things.

She had to pass Mike’s place on her way. She wanted to stop in and see if he had a moment to talk, since she hadn’t had a chance to since she was brought in for questioning. She knew he came home for lunch sometimes. However, his extended-cab pickup was gone, so he was probably still in surgery at his clinic, fixing up the poor dog who had the problem, whatever it was. Maybe she could talk to him on her way back if his truck was there. He owned that big truck for the times he had to go to farms and take care of livestock and horses. He hauled a lot of equipment on those trips, she knew.

A new seriously cold front had moved in during the night and she’d had to bundle up for her walk to The Refinery. Going to the spa, she’d faced south, so it was cold, but not too bad. Now that she was heading north it was even chillier, a brisk wind making her glad she’d worn a wool scarf and her down jacket.

Hilda wasn’t on her front porch today. That wasn’t surprising, given the temperatures in the thirties. If the wind blew the clouds away, it might warm up. Chase mounted the porch steps and knocked on Hilda’s door. Her wicker rocker moved a bit in a forceful gust. There was no answer. She tried again.

The man who lived next door, the absentminded Professor Fear, was walking to his home from somewhere. She figured he was coming home for lunch. “Do you know where Ms. Bjorn is?” Chase called.

He shrugged and shook his head. He didn’t seem too concerned. “Maybe over at the church.”

Disappointed, Chase retraced her steps until she was half a block from Mike’s place. Both his truck and his car sat by the curb, so he was home. Her disappointment evaporated and she found her heart giving a slight flutter as she stopped. A matching sensation in her tummy reminded her of the small fruit bar she’d eaten, and that she’d been hungry again soon after she’d eaten it. She was ravenous now.

She had taken a step forward, toward Mike’s condo, when his door opened and a woman stepped out. Mike followed her, his hand on the small of her back.

Chase halted, taken aback by the intimate gesture. She stood next to a tree that cast a shadow over her, so the couple wouldn’t notice her.

The redhead she had seen in Mike’s office leaned into him, then turned and threw her arms around his neck. He returned the embrace, hugging her tightly. Chase shrank away. The embrace continued. She reversed her course and stumbled to the corner. Circling the block and continuing by way of her detour, she found her way home.

She mounted the steps to her apartment and fumbled with her key. Quincy greeted her with an insistent meow that sounded hungry. Chase, however, found that her appetite had vanished.