Fat Cat At Large (A Fat Cat Mystery) (7 page)

Back inside the kitchen, she deposited Quincy in the office and made sure the door was latched securely.

“I think that might be my fault.” Anna cringed. “I might not have closed the door hard enough when I came out.”

“When you came out from sneaking treats to him?”

Anna’s softened demeanor vanished and her hostility returned. She turned her back to Chase and hit the button on the mixer with a vicious stab.

Way to go, Chase
.
Anna had started to apologize and Chase had immediately put her on the defensive. “Anna?”

She raised her head, but didn’t look around and didn’t reply.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you. We need to have a talk. I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t be. I’m all right.” Anna’s shoulders tightened and rose a notch, contradicting her words. “I just have some things to work out for myself. I seem to be taking it out on you.”

“I didn’t steal the money.”

“We do need to have a talk. I need to tell you—”

Vi burst through the back door. “Sorry, I had to duck out for a minute.” She hurried through the kitchen to the salesroom. Within seconds Laci rushed into the kitchen, sobbing.

“She’s so mean! I can’t work with her.”

Now what?

C
hase didn’t get another chance to speak to Vi about the parking lot confrontation or to Anna about being suspicious of Chase before closing time at 7:30
PM
. She’d soothed Laci by telling her she would give her a week off, starting Tuesday, when their rush would be over. Laci had considered that a whole week without seeing Violet Peters would be a much-needed balm for her. Chase hadn’t pointed out that, after the rush, there would be no need for them to work together until the holidays. By that time, Chase hoped to have stood up to Anna about the situation. She would have to make time to speak to Vi about her treatment of poor little Laci, though. Vi had told Chase that she’d seen Ted making out with someone else. Even if she had, there was no need to tell Laci that, knowing she’d go off the deep end.

At precisely 7:30, Chase shooed the two women out the front door and turned the sign on the door to say they were closed. She flicked the overhead lights off and leaned her poor aching back against the door, but only for a moment. The wood partitions for the little glass panes dug into her sore spine. She pushed away and strolled through the darkened shop humming “Tomorrow” from
Annie
. Stepping behind the counter, she pulled the trays from the display case, wincing each time she bent over. Most of them were empty, but three held a few bars that she would package and freeze to take to the homeless shelter when she had time.

Anna had left at 7:00, pleading an appointment, so Chase quickly did the cleanup that remained and headed for the police station. Walking through their parking lot at night was scarier than doing it during the day. The building was more forbidding, too. It loomed dark and gave her the chills.

She was buzzed through from the lobby to a sea of desks. Most were empty, but a lamp shed a pool of yellow on a desk at the far side of the room. Detective Olson’s chestnut hair caught an edge of the light as he bent over some paperwork. The sound of her echoing footsteps alerted him to her presence in the otherwise empty room and he waved her to a seat beside his desk. This was much better than the stuffy interrogation room she’d been in before, although the stale air held odors of sweat and, possibly, fear.

She sat and noticed that his dark blue eyes looked weary.

“I just have a few more questions. I know I said we were done, but I want to try something.”

She nodded. That didn’t sound too ominous.

“Close your eyes and think back to the day you discovered Gabe’s body.”

“Okay.” She bowed her head and squeezed her eyes shut.

“You’re searching for your cat, you said.”

“Right. Quincy is missing.”

“Where are you?” His soft, smooth voice soothed her. She felt tension seeping out of her body.

“I’m searching for him. Walking down the street. Coming to the condos.”

“Look around you. Is anyone else there?”

She shook her head. “I’m not looking for anyone, any people, I’m only looking for Quincy.”

“Go ahead.”

This felt almost like a hypnotism session she’d watched onstage in Chicago once. “There’s a door standing open.”

“Wide open?”

“No, just a crack. I walk up the steps and push it open.”

“Why do you do that?”

She let out a puff of impatience. “To see if Quincy is in there.” Why else would she enter a condo where she didn’t know the resident?

“Why do you think he might be?”

“The way the door is barely open. He likes to squeeze through narrow places. It’s a cat thing.” She opened her eyes and stared at him defiantly. “Why do
you
think I went in there? To kill Gabe Naughtly?”

“You’re sure you didn’t see anyone else? No one on the sidewalk or across the street?”

“I didn’t kill him.” Her voice caught. If she started crying right now, she’d never forgive herself. “Just because I didn’t see his killer doesn’t mean I killed him. The killer had time to wipe his fingerprints off the knife. He probably left long before I got there.”

Detective Olson leveled those serious eyes at her.

“What? What did I say? You’re the one who told me about the fingerprints.”

He drew a deep breath. “There was a lot of blood on that knife. I’m sure you remember that.” Yes, she did. “That knife wasn’t wiped after the blood got there.”

“Oh.” Her mind worked on high speed. “So . . . the killer wore gloves.”

“Possibly.”

“But Gabe’s prints weren’t on it either?”

Detective Olson shook his head.

“Was it even his knife? Did you test it for onions?”

“Onions?” He looked at Chase like she was crazy. “He wasn’t killed by onions.”

“Did his meatloaf have onions in it? Or bell peppers? That’s what I put in mine. If the knife was his and was out of the knife block, he’d probably chopped onions with it. If not, maybe it’s not his.”

“Miss Oliver, I want you to concentrate on what you saw that night. Over the next few days, if anything occurs to you, let me know right away.”

“Why do you think I saw someone?”

He didn’t answer.

An idea popped into her head. “Because someone saw
me
, right? If they did, then they saw I didn’t have time to kill him, right? Right?”

He handed her his card. “Call me if you remember anything.”

On her way home, her hands started hurting from gripping the steering wheel so tight. She was livid, so angry at the detective she felt like squeezing his neck instead of the steering wheel. Why couldn’t he at least tell her exactly why he was suspicious of her? He seemed to think she was lying. She had to convince him she wasn’t. But how?

She called Julie as soon as she was in her bathrobe, settled in her favorite cinnamon-hued chair with a glass of red wine. She tucked a pillow behind her to ease her sprained back muscles. Chase held her breath as she listened to Julie’s cell phone ringing away, afraid she wouldn’t pick up. In the moment before it would have gone to voice mail, Julie answered, breathlessly. “I only have a minute. We’re down to the wire on some paperwork.”

“Two? Could I have two minutes? Please?”

Chase thought she must have sounded pitiful because Julie gave a light chuckle and said, “Aw, poor baby, what’s the problem?”

“I just got home from being cross-examined by that Detective Olson.”

“He has to question people, doesn’t he?”

“But he doesn’t have to suspect me of murder.”

“He thinks you killed Gabe Naughtly? For real?”

“I’m not a hundred percent sure. But he intimated that someone saw me leave, or maybe enter, the condo. He acts like he doesn’t think I’m telling him the truth about when I was there and what I did. I need to know what that person is saying. If they’re lying about the times, it could look like I did it.” An additional thought occurred to her. “Maybe that person is even the killer, trying to throw suspicion on me.” Chase gulped some of her tart wine. It felt good.

“How awful! That would be hard to defend against.”

“Could you find out who it is?”

“Well . . .”

“It has to be in a police report somewhere. Have you been able to get to those?”

“I can, but—okay, I’ll try. I’ll tell you, though, I may not be able to. I have no business being in those files, so I’ll have to sneak.”

“Love you, Jules. I understand. Don’t jeopardize your job.”

“I’ll try my darnedest, Chase. I can’t have you accused of murder!”

“Maybe, if I can find out who this is, there might be more information that hasn’t been given to the police. This person might have seen someone else besides me.”

“Then why wouldn’t he mention it?”

Chase heard Julie’s name being called.

“He might have seen someone familiar who belongs there,” Chase said, in a rush. “Someone more likely to kill Gabe. One more quick question. What’s with Anna lately?”

“She won’t tell me. It’s so aggravating! Gotta go. Talk to you later. Maybe tonight, late.”

It was already too late to be considered early. Poor Julie, slaving away all weekend. Chase wished she’d had time to complain about her back. Julie’s sympathy would make her feel better, she knew. Quincy jumped with one fluid motion into Chase’s lap as she cut the connection. He bumped his head against her arm and her wine sloshed onto the sleeve of her robe.

“Quince! Now look what you did.”

He turned his round, staring, all-knowing cat’s eyes on her, the picture of innocence.

“I know, you didn’t mean it.”

Her robe was dark blue, so maybe the wine wouldn’t show too badly. She scratched the top of his head. “I guess you want your treats, although I know you won’t eat them.”

She set her glass and her cell phone on the side table and went to the kitchen to sprinkle some diet cat treats into his dish. Quincy sat on his haunches and wrapped his tail around his front paws. He made no move toward the bowl on the floor. Chase shook her head. “What am I going to do with you?”

After rinsing the wine spot from her robe sleeve, she went back to her chair and picked up her phone.

“Dr. Ramos,” Mike answered on the first ring. “Is that you, Chase?”

“You know it is. My number is right there.”

“It’s dark where I am. Couldn’t quite see it before I answered.”

“Where are you?” Immediately, she wished she could retract those words. It was no business of hers where he was. Or who he was with.

“I’m looking over some X-rays before I leave. It’s been a long day. What do you need?”

X-rays. Right. Not a date in a dark restaurant. Come to think of it, maybe she needed X-rays herself. “The treats aren’t working for Quincy. Neither is the diet cat food. I’m going to have to feed him something.”

“Has he lost any weight at all yet?”

Chase squinted and thought, recalling the cat jumping into her lap. Was he lighter? “It doesn’t seem like it.”

He didn’t answer.

“I know. Anna is slipping him things that he shouldn’t have. I don’t know how I can stop her. But can’t I feed him something that tastes good to him? Then he wouldn’t play on her heartstrings like he does.”

“I’ll dig around and see if there’s anything new on the market that might work better. But you’re a baker, aren’t you? Maybe you could make something for him. Meanwhile, I want you to bring him in every couple of days so I can weigh him.”

Unbidden, unwanted tears sprang from Chase’s eyes. It was too much. Nothing was going right. She sniffed loudly.

“Are you all right?”

“No, I’m not all right,” she wailed. She took a breath and calmed her voice. She was sounding like Laci. One more sip of wine. “Everything’s going all wrong. Two of my employees hate each other. It’s all I can do to keep them in the same room. Someone is stealing money from the cash register. My cat is miserable. And Detective Olson thinks I killed Gabe Naughtly.”

“Why does he think that?” Mike sounded incredulous, which made Chase feel a smidgen better.

“Someone says they saw me that night, either entering or leaving the condo.”

“So that makes him think you killed the man? Sounds far-fetched.”

“If I could find out who the witness is, maybe I could see if he or she saw anyone else.”

“There was someone else hanging out on the sidewalk earlier, before you got there.”

Her heart leaped. “There was? You saw someone?”

“That guy Torvald Iversen. He was standing on the sidewalk outside the condo when I got home. I noticed him because he wasn’t doing anything, wasn’t going anywhere, just standing outside Gabe’s unit.”

“That was before I got there, then?”

“Oh yes, quite a while before. Let me see if I can remember what time that would have been.”

Torvald was there earlier? Had he already had his business meeting by the time Chase got there? Had he killed Gabe during their meeting? It would make sense that he was trying so hard to frame Chase if he were, in fact, the killer.

She heard Mike shuffle some pages. “What are you doing?”

“I keep an old-fashioned appointment book in my pocket. It’s the only way I can organize my life. That day I had a three thirty appointment, so I would have been coming home about four. That’s when I saw him. Then, when I went out later, sometime after eight thirty, I saw the commotion at Gabe’s and came over and took Quincy.”

Chase felt better after her call to Mike. She started humming “Everything’s Coming Up Roses” from
Gypsy
. She hoped Julie could find the name of the nosy eyewitness. Surely the person would have seen Torvald, too. She wondered if he was being questioned as strenuously as she was.

I
t was Sunday, but not a day of rest for Chase and her crew. It was September 2 and classes would start Tuesday, the fourth. The Bar None would close at six on Tuesday. They would stay closed on Wednesday to recover from the onslaught of the last week. It would be relaxing with just Vi working on Tuesday, and Laci gone for a week. After that, Anna had told Chase she was going to tell the girl she was no longer needed. Anna had said they needed to replace her with someone less histrionic. Chase hadn’t spoken up, but she was determined to do so, if they could get some uninterrupted moments. She wished they could hire a third worker, but they couldn’t afford that.

These were Chase’s thoughts as she pedaled her bike south along Fourteenth Avenue on her way home from an early ride. She’d taken a couple of pain pills at bedtime and two more this morning. The pain seemed to be easing up in the small of her back. The song “Any Dream Will Do” from
Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat
was on her lips.

The day was fine. The warm, clear autumn weather was holding. She had felt the humidity today on her ride. Crisp days weren’t too far away, though, and cooler temperatures. Brilliant fall days with bright leaves swirling from lofty tree branches were her favorite times in Minneapolis.

Her cell phone rang as she stopped for a red light at Fourth Street. It was Julie. She hadn’t called back last night. Chase would suggest a getaway for the two of them when their crunch times were over. Maybe Julie had found the identity of the witness. Chase hoisted her front tire onto the curb and answered the call.

“I came in early, before anyone else got here.” Julie was almost whispering.

“Won’t that look suspicious?”

“No, I still have lots to do today. I need to get an early start on that anyway.”

“So?”

“Yes, I found her.”

“Her? For some reason, I’ve been picturing a ‘him.’”

“The name is Hilda Bjorn. She lives almost directly across the street from Gabe Naughtly’s condo. If I’m not mistaken, she has a small house with a nice front porch. I think I’ve seen a rocker there. I’ll bet she’s as old as the hills and sits and watches everyone and everything.”

“I hope you’re right, that she sees everything. Then she’ll have seen Torvald Iversen, too. Mike says he was there quite a bit before I was. But if she’s too old, her memory might be bad.”

“Yah, there’s that. Let’s hope not. Are you going to talk to her?”

“I sure will. This should be a superbusy day in the shop. Maybe I’d better go over there right now.” She hadn’t worked up too much of a sweat. Her shower could be skipped and she could throw on her working clothes in a minute.

“Anything else interesting? Did you read Iversen’s statement?”

“I did. Nothing much to it. He states that he’s an investment broker, but it doesn’t say who any of his clients are. He made a point of saying he hadn’t been to the condo that day until he arrived and saw you with the dead body. The way this is written, it sounds like they don’t believe him. Let me know what you find out from the woman. I hear voices. Some of the others are showing up. Gotta go.”

“Thanks a million. Love you, Jules.”

Chase’s heart lifted as she stuck her phone into her jacket pocket. She turned around and rode her bike to the block where Gabe’s condo was. Iversen lied in his statement! Would an innocent person do that? Dr. Ramos had said he’d seen him there earlier. She’d have to think of a way to use this.

Meanwhile, she’d talk to Hilda Bjorn. Sure enough, right across the street was a cute little house, painted red, with a white wicker rocker on the porch. Chase leaned her bike against the railing and mounted the steps to knock on the front door. After an interval, she knocked again, but not a sound issued from inside the little red house. The front door of the neighboring house flew open. A harried young man with a disorderly mop of hair clattered down his steps, then noticed Chase on the porch.

“Are you looking for Hilda?” he asked, peering through thick glasses.

“Yes, Hilda Bjorn. Do you know when she’ll be here?”

His brow puckered in thought. “Don’t know. She’s in the hospital again. Sometimes she doesn’t stay long.”

Her hopes were dashed. She couldn’t invade an elderly woman’s hospital room to interrogate her. “Okay,” said Chase, descending the wooden steps.

“Do you want me to tell her you were here?” He seemed anxious to be helpful.

“No, no, I’ll catch her later.”

“She might appreciate a visit. She’s at the U Medical Center.”

Chase waved her thanks and hurried back to open up her shop. She pedaled across the parking lot behind her store and picked up her bike so she could carry it up the stairs. The pain meds seemed to be wearing off.

A movement caught her eye at the edge of the parking lot. The sun glinted off a head of blond hair. A tall man faced her, staring intently across the top of a sedan. The man turned and walked away quickly. Shaun Everly! He’d been standing behind a car, watching her. He knew where she lived. She unlocked her door with an unsteady hand and carried her bike in.

She was still breathing more quickly than usual when she came down to the shop with Quincy. Anna had gotten in before her and made coffee. After Chase deposited Quincy in the office and shut the door tightly, she saw Anna notice her tremor as she poured herself a cup. Well, if Anna could have secrets, so could she. Anna hadn’t told her why she’d left before closing the day before, what the appointment was for, or what was bothering her so much that she couldn’t look Chase in the eye this morning.

Soon, the Bar None was thrumming along and almost felt normal. Anna was mixing up batter for Amaretto Lemon Bars, Laci and Vi were swamped with customers, too busy to bicker, and Chase was humming “Circle of Life” from
The Lion King
and cutting up a batch of Cherry Oat Bars and placing them on a tray to slide into the display case in front.

The sight of Shaun, staring at her across the pavement, stayed with her, though. Every once in a while, she shivered and broke off her song. She had no idea what to do about his presence.

In the middle of the morning, the strident tones of Doris Naughtly drifted to the kitchen. Chase saw Anna’s back stiffen, but neither of them commented . . . until Chase heard Torvald Iversen’s disturbing, spooky voice no more than two minutes later. Doris raised hers, becoming even louder than usual. Was she upset? Chase wondered. She wouldn’t put anything past that horrible man.

Chase wiped her hands on her apron and poked her head through the double doors. Doris was backed up to the pink shelves on the side wall, hemmed in by Torvald. He stood over her, leaning in, his long, thin arms surrounding her, with his hands on the shelves. She wasn’t making an effort to escape. In fact, she was tilting her head and giving him coy looks. Evidently, thought Chase, she wasn’t wasting any time getting over the death of her husband.

Stealing up behind the man, Chase asked, “Can I help you?”

She stifled a smile when he jumped at her being so near without his detecting her arrival. He threw Chase a glare and straightened up. Doris smiled at Chase and smoothed her hair, although it was sprayed so vigorously that it couldn’t possibly be disarranged.

“Yes, please,” breathed Doris. She grabbed a carton of Lemon Bars from the shelf behind her. “I’d like these, please.”

“Violet will help you at the register, Mrs. Naughtly.” Chase gestured toward the sales counter in the rear of the shop.

Torvald had no choice but to step aside, glowering, and let Doris proceed to the cash register.

Chase kept her voice low. “I need to ask you a question.”

He gave her a haughty look, easy to do from his height.

“What were your dealings with Gabe? I know you and he were doing business together. I also know you weren’t there for a dinner meeting, like you told me.” It was a bluff. Would it work?

She seemed to have penetrated his armor. A line of worry appeared between his pale eyebrows. “What are you talking about?”

“I know he wanted to buy my shop. Were you helping him do that?”

“Ha.” It was a mere syllable, devoid of humor. “It’s none of your business.”

“Is that what you killed him over?”

“The man led me to believe he could pull his weight, financially. I was a fool to believe him. It was nothing worth killing over.”

He spun on his heel and left the shop.

Would Torvald be in hot water for not securing the deal for his client? Would it be worthwhile for him to kill Gabe? It didn’t seem too likely. But the man
had
lied to the police. Something was very off-kilter about that man.

Chase returned to the sales counter, where Vi was ringing up Mrs. Naughtly’s purchase.

“What was that about?” Chase asked her.

“That horrid man was coming on to me,” Doris Naughtly said. “He wanted to have dinner! And my husband still warm in his grave, poor soul.”

Chase shuddered. For one thing, she was sure the man in his grave was not still warm. Graves were cold places. For another, the thought of being hit on by Torvald Iversen made her skin itch. For yet another, Doris hadn’t acted upset about him until Chase had interrupted them.

After Doris calmed down and left, Chase went back to the kitchen.

“Doris was being a drama queen again?” Anna asked. She drew out the word
drama
with an unattractive sneer.

“Anna, I wish you’d tell me what’s going on.”

The older woman walked to the storage shelves and ran her fingers along the bins, examining them, probably not for anything except an excuse to ignore Chase.

“Doris was . . . well, Torvald Iversen was . . . He had her cornered.”

“Good.” She kept her face away from Chase. “She’s probably sleeping with him.”

“She didn’t seem to mind it until after he’d left. Anna, I love you. You’re like my grandmother and my mother. I couldn’t make it without you. It hurts when you shut me out.”

Chase’s grandparents had passed away before her parents’ deaths. She had one dim memory of watching her grandfather fill his pipe, but didn’t even remember her grandmother at all.

Anna turned from the shelves slowly, dropping her hands to her sides.

“I suppose I’m overreacting. But Doris is . . .”

“Yes?”

Anna slumped onto a stool and propped her elbows on the counter. “She’s always been like this. I should be used to it.”

Chase sat beside her business partner–cum–beloved substitute grandmother and waited for her to continue. Chase lifted a hand to pat Anna’s back, then hesitated. Maybe she’d wait for Anna to get whatever it was off her chest first.

“We went to high school together. I did date Gabe a couple of times. Nothing serious. But Doris, for some reason, has always been jealous of me. She lured Gabe away, then dropped him. Years later, I found out they were getting married. I actually went to Gabe and told him I didn’t think it was a good idea. He laughed, so that was the end of that.”

Now Chase patted Anna’s shoulder. Anna put her own warm hand over Chase’s. “I can’t ever complain about the man I ended up with. My goodness, that man could dance. We went out almost every weekend when we started dating, not very long after high school.”

Anna’s face softened and the haggard look of the past few days fell away. She tilted her head upward, remembering her young romance. Chase didn’t have a hard time picturing Anna dancing the night away with Allan. She was in her seventies now and still looked capable of it. In fact, Chase was sure Anna would be able to outdance her.

Anna smiled, then a couple of tears ran down her weathered cheeks. “I still miss that man.”

Vi pushed the double doors open. “Almost out of Cherry Almond.”

“There’s a batch ready in”—Anna checked the oven timer—“two minutes.” Anna jumped up the get the oven mitts.

Chase didn’t get another chance to find out more about the history between Doris and Anna that morning.

The long Sunday morning bustled on until it was time for the sales clerks to take lunch breaks.

Chase rubbed her back. If she got a chance, she’d run upstairs for another pain pill. She stuck her head into the store. “Who’s first today for lunch?”

Vi waved her hand. “I need to run out. Can I have the first break?”

Laci assumed a put-upon pout that said she disapproved, but she didn’t say anything. Vi grabbed her big tote bag from under the counter and dashed out the front door, almost knocking over a pair of gangly freshman women.

Seeing her flee, apparently in no better shape than she’d been in the past few days, Chase was reminded that she still needed to talk to Vi about her troubles. She hadn’t gotten far talking about Anna’s with her yet. Laci was another matter. The poor girl’s heart was on her frilly, lace-trimmed sleeve. Anna probably hadn’t talked to Ted either.

Ted Naughtly chose that moment to enter the shop. With only Laci to tend to sales and customers, Chase decided to stay out front. She whipped off her apron and stowed it beneath the counter when Laci minced her way to the front of the store to greet Ted.

As the two of them spoke, heads together and nearly touching, a gang of college students swarmed in. It seemed like a whole fraternity, at least a dozen good-size potential football tackles.

They scattered, browsing the tables, the shelves, and some perusing the glass case.

“Hey, lady, could you tell me what these are?” One curly-headed giant beckoned from the front of the store, on the opposite side from where Laci and Ted communed. Laci wore a frown instead of her usual besotted look in Ted’s presence.

Chase sighed and left her post of guarding the cash drawer from Ted and went up front to tell the young man what the contents of a box labeled Cherry Almond Oatmeal Bars contained. She assured him there was no coconut and he gathered up three boxes. For the next ten or fifteen minutes she was kept busy reciting contents for the others. She would never get upstairs for a pain pill at this rate.

When she returned to the cash register to ring up their purchases, Ted and Laci were there. At least the cash drawer wasn’t open.

Chase drew a deep breath. She didn’t want to lose her temper in front of these very good customers. She yanked Laci’s arm and drew her close. “Miss Laci Carlson,” she hissed under her breath, directly into Laci’s ear. “Have I or have I not told you that Ted does not belong here behind the counter?”