Fat Cat At Large (A Fat Cat Mystery) (13 page)

L
aci showed up at the shop late in the afternoon. As soon as she walked through the rear door, Anna started making a fuss over her.

“Are you sure you should be running around? Did you drive yourself? Here, you’d better sit down.”

Chase thought that, for a person who had wanted to get rid of Laci so recently, Anna was overdoing it a bit.

Anna pulled out a stool, but Laci shook her head. “I’m fine. I just saw the doctor at three. There’s no trace of a concussion. At first they thought I might have a teensy one, but he rechecked me today. I’m all fine. He gave me a prescription to help me relax if I start hyperventilating or feel like I’m getting too nervous.”

“Have you taken any of those pills?” Chase asked, thinking that maybe she shouldn’t drive under the influence of relaxing medication.

“No, I haven’t been to the drugstore yet. I wanted to check in here and let you know I’m doing better.” In spite of her refusal a few seconds ago, she perched on the stool Anna had offered her. “I’m not sure when I can return to work.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Chase said quickly. “We’ll do fine. We’re not superbusy.” The customers had to drop off soon. Their rush was supposed to be over by now.

“It sounds like there are a lot of people out front,” Laci said, fiddling with the flounce at the wrist of her sleeve. “I could maybe help out just a bit.” When she swiveled slightly, Chase realized she was on the squeaky stool. They needed to oil it.

“Vi will call us if she gets swamped,” Chase said. “Really, we’re okay.”

“But that’s so considerate of you to offer,” Anna said.

Good grief, thought Chase. Back down, Anna. “Are your parents still in town?”

“No, they had to leave yesterday.” Laci’s tone was flat and casual, but a sad look flitted across her face, then disappeared.

What kind of parents would leave when their daughter had a possible concussion? wondered Chase, horrified. She could tell Anna was wondering the same thing.

“Oh dear,” Anna said, almost under her breath.

“That’s all right,” the young woman answered. “I’m used to being on my own. They don’t hang around much.”

“Still . . .” Anna patted Laci’s thin shoulder.

Laci jumped off the stool. “I think I should go get my prescription filled.”

“Let me drive you,” Anna said.

“I won’t take any until I get home. I know not to drive after I take a pill like one of these.”

“If you think so.” Anna seemed less than half-convinced.

Chase was surprised Anna didn’t button Laci’s jacket for her before she left.

“Oh my goodness.” Anna’s worried face reminded Chase of the care Anna had given her when her parents had passed away. She really was a kind and generous soul. Anna was about to say something, probably about what they should be doing for Laci, when she was interrupted.

“Paper man,” called the delivery guy coming through the back door, a box of paper bags imprinted with the Bar None logo hoisted on his shoulder.

Distracted by her conflicting thoughts on her relationship with Anna lately, Chase opened the office door so he could stow them there. She neglected to stick a foot inside to prevent escape. Quick as a flash Quincy darted out, making it through the parking lot door before it completely closed behind the delivery man.

Darn it, thought Chase. Not this again.

The butterscotch tabby knew the enticing tomato aroma that had been behind the trash bin was no longer there. That was the first thing he sensed after he made it through the door. The second thing he sensed was a loud voice calling his name. Rather than voluntarily return to the office, he set out in the direction where he’d first found the delicious tomato saucy meatloaf. Now that he knew his way, his progress was swift and sure. It took no time at all to zip over there. When he found the condo door closed, he looked around for another way in. Instead, he spied someone across the street eating something that smelled good. He padded across the street.

Anna made it to the door first. “I think he’s headed for Gabe Naughtly’s again.”

“What’s wrong with that cat?” asked the paper deliveryman.

Anna threw Chase an accusatory glance. “He doesn’t get enough to eat.”

“I’ll go,” Chase said. “I think you have a batch ready to come out of the oven in a few minutes.”

Chase trotted out of the parking lot, around the corner, and up the street, spying a small, fast-moving bundle of orange fur two blocks ahead. She got stuck waiting for traffic to clear so she could cross the streets, though, and by the time she got to Gabe’s condo, Quincy was nowhere to be seen. She mounted the steps, to be sure he wasn’t hidden behind the post, even though he was too fat for the post to hide him. Just to be sure, she jiggled the doorknob. Yellow tape still sealed the door. So did the dead bolt lock when she tried to open the door, thinking she could duck under the tape.

“He’s not there, dearie,” called a voice from behind her. Hilda Bjorn was sitting on a rocker across the street, on her front porch, bundled for the weather and holding a mug of something steamy. She also held a short-haired orange furball in her lap.

Chase crossed the street and approached them with caution. “That’s my cat. I’ve been looking for him.”

“Oh, I’m glad he has a good owner.” The woman set her mug on the table beside her and handed the purring Quincy to Chase. “He’s a very nice cat.”

“He’s a very naughty cat right now.” Quincy nuzzled her shoulder.

“He sure does like these cheese crackers.”

Chase held Quincy out and inspected him more closely. Sure enough, there were crumbs the color of neon traffic cones stuck to his long whiskers. “He’s supposed to be on a diet. How many did he eat?”

“Oh, just a handful. I’m glad you’re looking for the cat and not for the man across the street. He’s dead, you know.”

“Yes, I talked to you about that. At the hospital. Do you remember?”

“I think so.”

“You told me who you saw going in and out of the condo the day Gabe . . . died.”

“He was murdered, you know.”

“Uh, yes, I know.” How much of what this woman said was reliable?

“So many people that day,” she said. “The young man, the floozy, the older man who’s been there a lot lately, and that woman with the nice jacket.”

“Woman with a jacket?” Doris? “You saw her, too.” Maybe her memory was sharper than Chase was giving her credit for.

“I couldn’t understand why she took off her jacket and threw it into the bushes. It had gotten all dirty, but I’m sure it could have been cleaned.”

Was Doris back to being a suspect now? In spite of the stain on the jacket being sauce? Could there be any others? “Can you think of anyone else who was there that day?”

Hilda aimed her bright blue eyes at the porch ceiling. The late-day sunshine glinted off her wire rim bifocals. She gave a slight frown. “No, I can’t recall. There might have been more. Maybe I’ll think of them later. It was a busy day over there.”

Chase scribbled her number on the pad she kept in her apron pocket for Bar None orders. “If you think of anyone else, could you please call me?”

“Of course, dear, although I should tell the police first. That nice Detective Olson did mention that. I think I’ll give him a call right now.”

She rose to go inside.

“Thanks for corralling Quincy,” Chase said.

“Oh, is that his name? What a nice name. I think he’s a little hungry. Maybe you should feed him more.”

“Ms. Bjorn, I’d like to thank you. I’ll tell my workers”—of which she had exactly one at the moment—“to give you a dozen free dessert bars next time you come to the Bar None.”

“How very sweet of you, dearie. I’ll take you up on your offer.”

Hilda went inside and Chase headed back to the shop.

Chase approached her building from the rear, through the parking lot, as usual. Quincy snuggled next to her neck, purring. Those whiskers tickled a bit. She wished she knew what went on in that little brain.

Halfway to the door, Chase stopped. Something was missing. Vi’s bright red Z4 wasn’t there. After depositing the cat in the office with some of her own homemade treats, being sure to firmly close the latch, Chase stuck her head through the doors to the front. There was Vi, smiling and talking people into buying twice what they’d intended. Where was her car?

•   •   •

The Bar None
was closed for Thursday night. Anna had helped tidy the kitchen and Vi had straightened up in front before they left. Chase went to close and lock the back door, wanting to retreat upstairs and cuddle with her guy, Quincy. A silver sports car pulled up, stopping almost upon her, so close she thought it might try to go through the door. It was the last person she wanted to see—Shaun Everly.

He jumped out, but stood leaning on his open car door, not approaching her and not seeming to be a threat, for a change. He wore a nylon jacket, which he might need later in the evening, though the air was warm then. The jacket was cobalt-colored and brought out the color of his gorgeous light blue eyes.

He turned to Chase. “Where is she?” He sounded belligerent. His eyes might be gorgeous, but they were angry right then.

Chase thought she knew who “she” was, but she played dumb just to annoy him.

“Are you looking for someone?” Chase held the doorknob in her hand, standing half in and half out. She could retreat inside quickly if Shaun decided to go after her.

“Vi. Where is she?”

“I have no idea. She’s not here. She left work over half an hour ago.”

He blew a puff of exasperation through his lips. “She asks for a ride, then doesn’t stick around to take it. I’m getting a little fed up with her.”

“Maybe she found out what you’re really like and decided not to have anything to do with you. She’s pretty smart, you know.” She thumbed the doorknob lock on the inside of the door.

“You Minnesota people are the worst! Vi is a tease and a two-timer. That Iversen guy—man, what a temper on him. No wonder someone killed him. I was trying to set up a simple little business transaction, but he dithered around way too long. And you.”

Shaun took a step toward her. Chase tightened her grip on the door latch.

“You’re something, you know that?” His sneer ruined his handsome face.

Chase pressed her lips together and refrained from blurting out the first thing that occurred to her, which was,
I know I am, but what are you?
In fact, the thought of the childish retort made her smile slightly.

“What’s so funny? Are you hiding her in there?”

“Does she have reason to hide from you, Shaun? What have you done to her?”

“Me? Nothing! It’s her! She stood me up last night, too. Look, I’ll go away and leave you alone if you give me that deposit slip.”

“Gosh, I would if I could. I’m not really sure where it is.”

“Then I’ll just stick around until you find it. I’ll make your life miserable.”

Chase straightened her backbone and stood as tall as she could. “You don’t have any power over me here. Go back to Chicago, where you can wreck other people’s lives.”

“So you admit your life is wrecked?”

“Of course not. You’re an ant to me, a tiny, insignificant ant.” If only that were true. How could this man have the power to make her dread being next to him?

Shaun got back into his car, muttering, “I don’t understand women.”

Chase agreed with that thought completely. She couldn’t keep a grim smile off her face at the thought of Vi dumping Shaun. Maybe she should give her a raise.

Shaun slammed his car door, and roared away. She stepped inside, closed the door, and slipped the chain latch on. It was past time to curl up with Quincy and a book. She would also see if she could find that darned deposit slip. She hadn’t come across it yet after her move.

•   •   •

On Friday morning,
it was almost time for Vi’s break. Chase asked Anna if she could spell Vi. Anna said she’d finished baking for the day, so she’d be glad to. Anna didn’t get out front as often as Chase did, being the main baker, and she welcomed her chances to do so.

When Vi came to the kitchen, she drooped onto a stool. Chase pushed a glass of lemonade in front of her, noting the strain on Vi’s face and the circles under her eyes, poorly disguised by her makeup.