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Authors: Janet Cantrell

Fat Cat Spreads Out (11 page)

BOOK: Fat Cat Spreads Out
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“I don't really have allergies, Elsie,” said the one in the blue skirt.

“Oh, you don't have allergies. You just sneeze at every other thing, Ellie.”

Elsie and Ellie! This is going to be confusing, thought Chase. She decided she would call them Elsa and Eleanor. Maybe she wouldn't have to call them anything if she never saw them again.

“Bye, Anna,” said Elsa. “We're going to go see Grey.”

Both women swished away, their skirts swirling around their cowgirl boots.

Chase gave Anna a blank look. “Who's Grey?”

“That's the parrot. She's a sweetheart. Her name is Lady Jane Grey, but Elsa and Eleanor call her Grey.”

“She's alone in your house? Is she in a cage?”

“No, she's with Dr. Ramos. She was at the house last night.”

“He's going to have to start charging boarding fees, poor guy. Everyone is dumping their pets on him.”

“Only you and Elsa, right?”

“And a black cat that is usually there.”

The weather was much colder and there didn't seem to be nearly as many people at the fair today. Maybe Wednesday was Hump Day here, just like in an office—and at the Bar None store. The plug-in heater made the booth toasty, but even that didn't draw people in as it had before. The people simply weren't there to be drawn in.

After an hour of meager sales, Chase's cell rang. It was in her purse under the table. She dove for it and fished it out as it quit ringing.

“Who was it?” asked Anna.

“Inger. I'll call her back.” But Chase didn't get an answer when she tried and Inger hadn't left a message. She worried about her friend for the rest of the morning.

At lunchtime, Bill Shandy, Anna's recent fiancé, strolled up the aisle and turned in to the Bar None.

“How's my favorite baker?”

Anna answered with a brilliant smile and a hug. Bill was a few inches taller than Anna, which, given Anna's small stature, put him only at medium height. His curly gray hair was a match in color for Anna's, but a patch was missing at his crown. His bushy mustache made up for the baldness on top. Chase liked Bill. It occurred to her that she should appeal to him for help getting Anna away from Elsa and her coterie.

“Do you want to see the parrot?” Anna asked Bill. She said to Chase, “I told him about Lady Jane Grey, and he said he'd like to see her.”

Bill owned a pet store near their Dinktytown treat shop. His family had gone through an ordeal recently, and Chase thought Bill had handled his wacky relatives with infinite patience and grace. He and Anna had become closer during that time, and Chase was glad they had each other. Anna hadn't shown any interest in a man since her beloved husband had passed away several years ago. Chase loved to see the romance blossoming between them.

“Go ahead,” Chase said. “I'll be fine here if you both want to head over to the vet clinic.”

“I think I want to meet the parrot's owner as much as I want to meet the parrot,” Bill said.

If Anna hadn't been there, that would have been the perfect entrance for Chase to bring up the subject of Elsa. She put out a feeler, which was all she could do.

“Do you know that they're all staying at Anna's? Elsa, the parrot, and Elsa's twin sister?”

“Yes, she told me, but I haven't had a chance to meet any of them.”

“Elsa is the one whose husband was murdered here,” Chase added.

“Poor woman.” Bill shook his head in sympathy.

When Chase frowned slightly at that, he raised his eyebrows in question.

“I don't know how poor she is. The insurance settlement should be hefty.”

“Charity!” Anna finally joined in. “That's no way to talk. Bill, Charity thinks Elsa might have been the one who killed Larry Oake.” She took off her Bar None smock, crammed it under the table, donned her parka, and headed for the midway.

“I'm not the only one who thinks that way,” Chase said. “The police have told Elsa not to leave town.”

Anna kept going. Bill looked back at Chase long enough for her to mouth the words “call me” and then followed Anna.

THIRTEEN

A
fter Bill and Anna got back from seeing Eleanor's parrot, Bill took his leave with a quick kiss on the lips while Chase looked the other direction, smiling.

“Did you ever get hold of Inger?” Anna asked, coming around the table and tying on her smock.

“No, and I'm worried. Maybe her parents changed their minds and kicked her out again.”

“Already?” Anna said. “It's only been a day.”

“I know. Do you get the feeling that it's more her mother or her father having the problem with her being pregnant?”

“I don't really know. I haven't met either one of them. Come to think of it, don't you think it's a little strange that they have never come to the shop to see where their daughter works?”

“Now that you mention it, yes. You didn't meet them, did you, when you took Inger home from your place?”

“No, I just dropped her off.” Anna frowned, thinking. “I don't remember the exact address, but we have it on file in the office. Maybe you could stop by their place and try to see what's going on.”

“Good idea. I can meet the parents, if they're there.”

“Are you going to call first?”

“No, I think I'll drop by. If all three are there, maybe I can get a feel for the family dynamics. If not, I'll talk to whoever is home.”

“I don't suppose you can convince the Uhlgrens to go easy on their daughter.” At that point, the first of a steady stream of customers interrupted the conversation.

Chase thought it would be a miracle if she could sway the minds of two people she had never before met concerning a family matter that was probably none of her business. But she knew she should try.

When she was working in Chicago, one of her fellow waitresses got pregnant. The young woman's mother was very hard on her but didn't kick her out of the family home. After the baby was born, the mother fell in love with her precious granddaughter. Chase felt that's the way it ought to work when there was no father to share the burden with the new mother, like with Inger's intended getting killed in war and not coming back. Families should support each other. What would she do without hers? If her own parents hadn't made a will naming Anna as her guardian, she would surely have been made a ward of the state when they died. She shuddered to think of
what some of those poor kids went through, being sent to homes where they weren't really wanted and weren't understood. There were some excellent foster parents, she was sure. You only ever heard about the ones who were . . . not excellent. But what if she had ended up with, well, anyone but Anna?

Overcome with the gratitude welling up inside her, Chase reached over and gave Anna a quick hug. Anna smiled in surprise and they both kept working.

When Chase went to get Quincy at the end of the day, Mike, in the small outer room, was deep in conversation on his cell phone, his face expressionless. It sounded serious, so she gave him a finger wave and went to the examining room. Quincy rose, stretched his front legs, curling his pink tongue as far out of his mouth as he could, then straightened each back leg.

“You've been a lazybones today, haven't you?” Chase said. “Sleeping your life away. I can hardly blame you. It's pretty boring in here.” She unlatched the cage and lifted Quincy into his carrier.

“Boring in here,” said a raspy voice behind her.

She whirled around. No one was there. Ah, but Elsa's parrot was in a cage on a shelf.

“Hi there,” Chase said, walking over to the shelf.

“Hi there,” mimicked the bird.

“Are you Lady Jane Grey?”

“Lady Jane Grey, Lady Jane Grey, Lady Jane Grey.” The parrot flapped her soft gray wings, ducking her head and wiggling her red tail feathers.

“I guess you'll be going home with Anna.” Chase
caught herself and froze for a moment, then laughed. Was she having a conversation with a bird? She told the animal, “Bye bye.”

“Bye bye,” Grey replied.

Chase giggled at herself and left the room.

Mike was still talking, frowning and shaking his head slightly. She didn't think he noticed her leaving. She would find out what was going on eventually, she hoped.

*   *   *

As she drove,
she decided to call Bill Shandy first, as soon as she got home, then go to Inger's family's place and see what she could find out there. She was sure of one thing. Inger should not move back in with Anna. Anna was full up.

Bill answered on the first ring. “I thought you'd call about now, when the fair let out.”

Chase settled into her cinnamon-hued stuffed chair with a cup of steaming-hot tea.

“What was that all about at the fair?” he asked. “You were obviously trying to tell me something.”

“Bill, I'm worried about Anna.” She sipped, savoring the hint of jasmine in her drink.

“You think she's overdoing it, letting Elsa and her sister stay with her? She's doing fine, really.”

Chase laughed. “No, not worried about that. I don't think that woman will ever run out of energy.” She grew serious. “I'm worried that she's consorting with a murder suspect.” Quincy leapt softly into Chase's lap.

“Hm. I guess you could be right.”

“What if Elsa is the one who killed Larry Oake? The spouse is always the most likely culprit, according to the mysteries I read.” Quincy butted the hand that held her mug, but Chase managed to keep the tea from spilling into her lap.

“Frankly, I don't see her as a murderess. You think she killed him?”

“I have no clue, but if she did, I hate the idea of Anna hanging around with her. Why don't you think she's guilty?”

“Her own parrot. Anyone who's nice to pets is a good person in my book. Lady Jane Grey is well taken care of and in very good health.”

Chase had to laugh. “I guess that makes sense, coming from a pet shop owner.”

“Besides,” Bill added, “even if she did kill her husband, she's probably not a danger to anyone else. Anna's not involved in their family matters. There had to have been a trigger, something the killer was passionate about. Otherwise Oake wouldn't have been killed right there. It was a risky thing. The killer could easily have been caught if someone walked in at the wrong time.” Maybe Bill read mysteries, too.

“I sure hope you're right.”

Chase didn't feel that much better about what Anna was doing after she hung up. Bill hadn't convinced her that Elsa didn't kill her husband. Just that the killer was a daring person, able to take risks. Distracted, she plopped her cup on the side table and stood up. Quincy, who had been curled into a ball and comfy in her lap, protested the
loss of his resting place with an annoyed
mrow
. He then stalked to his bowl and licked the remnants of his din din.

“Sorry, Quince. I forgot you were there.” She rubbed his head as she passed, on her way downstairs to look up Inger's address.

*   *   *

When she got
to the address in Hopkins, she found a white clapboard ranch house with a driveway and a neat front yard. One large maple tree stood sentinel smack-dab in the middle, and trimmed bushes nestled close to the house. Chase left her car at the curb and climbed the three steps to the small front porch.

A red-faced man answered her second ring. He frowned at Chase.

“I'm here to speak to Inger,” she said. “I'm Chase Oli—”

“Inger isn't here.” His voice was gruff and his frown menacing.

A small woman with wispy, graying hair appeared behind him. “Roger, let her in. She might know something.”

He gave Chase an annoyed look but opened the door wide.

Chase stepped into a wood-floored living room heated by a large brick fireplace. The space was furnished with matching yellow-and-orange chairs and a couch, and softened with brown area rugs. The woman motioned Chase to the couch, and the couple sat facing her in the chairs. The room smelled of lemony furniture polish.

“What do you know about Inger?” demanded the man.

“Roger, let me.” The woman's voice was soft, but
commanding. “How do you know our daughter? You said your name is Chase?”

“Yes, Chase Oliver. I'm her employer?” Had Inger never told her parents the name of her boss? “You do know she works for me, don't you?”

They both gave her blank looks.

“At the Bar None.”

“You own the Bar None?” Roger sounded incredulous. “You look too young to be a business owner.”

Chase was going to ignore his rudeness. “Inger called me earlier today and now I can't get in touch with her. She doesn't answer her phone and I'm worried about her.”
Knowing that you people kicked her out once
, she added mentally. Chase had tried to call Inger again before she set out, but it rang to her voice mail. She didn't leave a message, not having any idea what to say.

“We're worried, too,” the woman said, twisting the edge of her cardigan into a knot. “She's disappeared. We have no idea where she is.”

“Have you tried her friends?”

The couple exchanged looks. The woman answered. Apparently, Roger was going to let her handle this, as she had requested. “We don't know any of her friends. Inger is a very private person.”

“She's shy,” added her father. “Doesn't run around much.”

“She spent all her time with Zack, until . . .”

“Until he was killed overseas.” Roger finished her sentence as his wife became too choked up to speak.

“No friends? None at all?” Chase wondered what that would be like. Poor Inger.

“Maybe.” The woman looked doubtful. “But we don't know any of them.”

“How long ago did she leave?”

They both shrugged. They apparently didn't keep track of their daughter any better than they communicated with her.

On her drive back to Dinkytown, she dialed Inger's number twice more but got no answer either time. Chase shed a few tears for poor, lonely Inger.

BOOK: Fat Cat Spreads Out
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