Fat Cat Takes the Cake (10 page)

I
n the next hour, so much snow fell that the street blended with the sidewalk, the curbs lost beneath the fluff. Chase and Anna sent Mallory and Inger home while the roads were still passable.

Chase flipped the sign on the front door to “Closed” and went into the kitchen. Inger was in the act of closing the outside door and Chase shivered from the gust that had come into the warm kitchen. “Anna,” she said, “you'd better go home, too.”

“Let me finish getting this—”

“No, let me finish. You need to get. Come here.”

Chase motioned her to the back door. Anna put down the flour bin she'd been about to shelve. Chase shoved the door open, moving a drift about five inches high. The wind
was picking up, the snow was falling faster, and the parking lot, as well as the cars, held two to four inches.

“Pretty, isn't it?” Anna said. “You're right. This is going to amount to something.” She abandoned the cleaning-up, wrapped herself in her winter clothes, and scooted out the door.

“Call me when you get home,” Chase shouted to her departing back. Anna was a careful driver, but you never knew when someone else was going to careen into you and send your car spinning.

“I will!” Anna waved as she swiped the snow off her windshield with her gloved hand. She slipped into the driver's seat, started the engine and the heater, and got out again. Chase watched her clear the back and side windows, then get inside again and drive away.

Chase consulted the weather on her phone. The app predicted six to eight inches. She had been right to send everyone home. She wandered into the front of the store to watch the snow fall. The lights were out inside her shop and, with the snow muffling the sounds from the street, she felt like she was in a cocoon. Quincy settled on top of the glass case, still warm from the lights beneath the glass that had been switched off a short time ago. It was rare for him to be permitted into this part of the shop and he was taking full advantage.

An elderly man passed by, wading through the deepening snow with difficulty. Chase ran to the storage closet and got out the shovel, then pulled on her coat and hat. She wrapped her scarf around her neck and patted her pockets. No gloves. Where were they? They'd been missing for a couple of days
now. She dug her old gloves out of her desk drawer, but decided not to use them. They were so full of holes, they would be useless for keeping her hands warm.

When she came in from clearing the sidewalk, she felt virtuous—and cold. Her cheeks were stiff. She made a cup of steaming hot chocolate in the kitchen, as much to thaw her icy hands as to warm her insides.

Maybe everyone was being sent home early. She called Julie on the off chance that she wasn't still at work. She wanted Julie to go with her on Monday to pay a visit to Dillon. If she wanted to go. Maybe Julie would think visiting Dillon in the hospital was a crazy idea. She didn't answer. Probably still slaving away at her desk. Julie was too conscientious for her own good. Maybe, when she'd been at the firm longer, and when she didn't have to worry about being a murder suspect, she would work normal hours.

Two hours later, Chase had made it upstairs and was snuggled with Quincy, watching the snow build up in the lower corners of the window panes in her balcony doors.

“This is exactly like a Christmas card, isn't it, Quincy?”

He turned his amber eyes on her and blinked.

“You agree, don't you?”

Traffic had slowed to an occasional vehicle passing by every five or ten minutes. Those without snow tires slid to a slow stop at the corner. All the drivers on the street seemed to have experience with winter conditions. No one slammed on brakes or fishtailed. The scene was as peaceful as a Christmas card, indeed.

Chase's ringing phone brought her out of her reverie.

“Julie? Are you just getting out?”

Julie breathed heavily into her phone. “Yes. Finally. Jay called Gerrold and he got me out.”

Chase shot up from her chair. “What? Out of where?”

“Wait a sec. I have to help Jay scrape his windows.”

Chase heard sounds of cars and wind through the tiny speaker. Julie was outside. “Call me right back.”

When Julie called, half an hour later, she said she was at home. “I've never been happier to get home.”

“What happened? What's been going on?” Chase had fretted the entire thirty minutes.

“I got a call at work as this snow was starting. Detective Olson told me to come to the station.”

“In this weather?”

“He doesn't pay attention to weather, apparently.” Julie didn't sound at all like herself. Her voice was tight and strangled.

“Go on.” Chase couldn't imagine him being deterred by a simple snowstorm.

“He told me I'm being charged with homicide.” She sobbed on the last word.

Chase gasped. “Ron North?”

“Who else? I wouldn't say anything to him. I called Jay right away. He had Gerrold Gustafson come by. He had some car trouble, but took a cab and got there in time for my bail hearing. Gerrold got my bail lowered and they released me.”

“Thank goodness! They really think you strangled him in the park?”

“No. He wasn't killed there. They think he was killed in the high school parking lot, then dumped under the bush where you found him.”

“But why would they zero in on you? Just because it was your scarf?”

“And because I followed Bart out to the parking lot from the reunion.” There was a pause. “And because I told them I wasn't out there at first.”

“Someone else saw you out there?”

“Only Ron North and Bart Fender. They were arguing about something when I got there.”

“So Bart can tell them you didn't kill him!”

“Apparently not. The detective says Bart says he left while I was still out there.”

“Where does he say he went?”

“I have no idea. I didn't notice when he left. I spoke five sentences to Bart, then Ron wouldn't leave me alone. I was so spitting mad at him. I told them before that I hadn't seen Ron there, either.”

Julie paused again. Was there even more evidence against her?

“And one more thing. I let slip something about the notebook.”

“How did you do that?” Chase's heart plummeted. She knew they should have told the detective they had copies.

“I suggested he consider all the stalking victims, not just me. I told him there was a code for the book, so he thinks I'm withholding evidence. He wouldn't believe that we figured out the code. He thinks I have more evidence somewhere. My hearing is next Friday. Gerrold managed to put it off until then by insisting on a judge who is out of town right now. That's when I'll plead not guilty. I'm so glad I don't have to sit in jail until then.”

“Friday. This is Saturday. We have five whole days to find out who killed Ron North.”

Chase nearly hung up before she remembered why she had called Julie in the first place. Finding Ron North's killer seemed more urgent, but visiting poor Dillon was a good deed she felt she should do. If she wasn't actually in a coma, she would appreciate a report on the reunion. Julie agreed.

“Let's go after I get off work on Monday. I'm going to have to go in Sunday to do all the stuff I was supposed to be catching up on today.”

“I'll get some flowers and a card, since I'm not working Monday,” Chase offered.

“Deal. I'll pick you up on my way.”

“We probably shouldn't mention the murder unless she's already heard about it.”

Chase couldn't sit still after the call. Julie had actually been charged with the crime! She wished she had asked Julie whether or not she was going to call Anna. Anna had to be told. Chase waited ten minutes, checking the clock every fifteen to twenty seconds, then called Anna.

“I just got off the phone with her,” Anna said. “This can't be happening. It really can't. Julie did not kill that man. Why would they think that?”

Chase had no desire to go into the particulars on the phone. “Julie didn't tell you?”

“Not really. She only said that her scarf was there but I knew that already.”

“He was strangled with it. But Ron took it from her earlier.”

“There you go. She didn't do it.”

Chase agreed, but would that be enough for a judge? Chase doubted it. “There's something else. The detective thinks Julie has evidence she's withholding from him. I neglected to tell anyone we made copies of Ron's notebook and have been trying to decipher his codes. We do think we've decoded some of it, but we don't have anything more than the notebook itself.”

“That doesn't seem too awful. I would have made copies.”

Chase could have kissed her if they hadn't been on the phone. Even through her cell phone, though, she could hear the shakiness in Anna's voice and could imagine the concern in her bright blue eyes.

After she hung up, she felt like she was jumping out of her prickly skin. She couldn't stay this way until Julie's hearing. She gazed out at the roads. A snowplow rumbled by, scooping the snow to one side and half burying any hapless cars parked at the curbs. She felt like she had to move, had to get out of her apartment. It was so odd to have the shop closed on a Saturday afternoon. If the weather were better, she would take Quincy out for some leash training. He wouldn't appreciate getting his paws soaked, though. She decided instead to take herself for a walk to try to calm her nerves.

She had everything on—boots, scarf, coat, her old gloves—had gone down the stairs, and was opening the door when her cell phone rang. She stepped back inside to answer it.

“Is everything all right over there?” Mike asked.

“Yes. We closed the shop because I was afraid no one could get home if we stayed open until six.”

“You have power? I lost mine at the clinic.”

She poked her head into the kitchen. The clock lights glowed on the stove and microwave, one showing four thirty-five, the other showing four thirty-eight. She and Anna never managed to get all the clocks in sync. “We're okay here.”

“Can I bring some things over? My power has been out all day and I need to keep the insulin refrigerated overnight. My neighbor says power is out at the condo, too. I'm boarding two diabetic cats at the clinic this weekend. It's not supposed to get extremely cold, so I think the cats will be all right. The insulin will be okay for a short time, but I don't want it to get too warm or too cold. I loaned my generator to a friend for the weekend. Bad timing.”

“Sure.” She knew those tiny vials wouldn't take up much room. “When are you coming?”

“I've canceled everyone but the next appointment, so in about an hour?”

That would be plenty of time for a brisk walk to clear her head of her dark fears for Julie. She would tell Mike about her arrest when he got here. With a smile on her face at the thought of being comforted by Mike, she shuffled her boots through the parking lot to the cleared street. The snow had slowed to a light dusting that collected on her shoulders.

She had gone only a few blocks when her cell rang again. It was Eddie.

“Hey, it's a beautiful day,” he said, his voice a little too loud in her ear.

“For sled dogs. Did you lose power?”

“Heck no. I'm in a strip mall. They're not gonna lose power. Speaking of power, wanna go on a power walk with
me? I like to walk whenever I can. The gym's fine for bad weather, but there's nothing like fresh air.”

Power walking with Eddie was about the last thing on earth she wanted to do. She thought quickly. “I'd like that, but—”

“I'll be right over.”

“No, I can't. Eddie?” He was gone. She had planned to say she would like to,
but
she couldn't. Because, well, maybe because she had just gone for a walk.

She tried to call Eddie back, but he didn't answer. Great. Just great. She'd have to get rid of him before Mike came over. She had thought the last thing she wanted to do was go on a power walk with Eddie, but now she'd changed her mind. The last thing she wanted to do was to have both Mike and Eddie in the same spot at the same time.

S
he hurried toward home, hoping she could intercept Eddie and send him on his way quickly. He was too fast for her. His bright yellow Smart car was idling outside the door, the exhaust plumes swirling in a mad dance with the lazy snowflakes. For a moment she contemplated turning around and disappearing until he left. As she was formulating the thought, the car door opened. He'd spotted her.

“Hey, Chase! You started without me?”

She waded through the deep accumulation as fast as she could, out of breath by the time she got to him. “I tried to tell you,” she said between pants. “I've already walked today. You hung up too quick.”

“Aw, gee, that's too bad. Why don't we go over to my shop for a drink?”

She suppressed a shudder at the vision of a glass of green, viscous goo. “I can't. Really. I have too much to do.”

“No problem. I'll call earlier in the day next time. You gonna be open tomorrow? Maybe we could meet up then.”

“We should be open. The roads are being plowed and the snow is stopping.”

“I gotta be getting back anyway. It's been busy today.”

With all this snow? Maybe his roads had been plowed earlier than hers. She breathed out a sigh of relief as he ducked to tuck himself into his tiny car. Then he straightened up.

“I forgot. I was gonna tell you that Monique Byrd came into the shop today. That woman is crazy.”

“How so?” She talked a lot and stuck with Dickie, which made her halfway crazy already as far as Chase was concerned.

“She has a weird thing about not touching people. She won't let anyone touch her skin.”

Chase remembered that from high school, but it had seemed worse the few times she'd seen her lately. “She has a germ phobia.”

“And that means she's crazy in my book. Normal people don't mind touching each other.”

He put his ungloved hand on her cheek. Startled, Chase pulled away. The gesture seemed too intimate. She did get giddy in his presence, but there was all that emphasis on health food and he didn't seem to like Quincy very much.

“Different people have different obsessions,” she said.
Some are obsessed with quinoa sprouts
. “Look, I have to get going.” She resisted glancing at the time on her phone.

“Sure.” He shrugged and got into his car again. “See you around.”

Was that a brush-off? After his car disappeared, she lifted her hand and felt her cheek, tingling and warm where his hand had been.

She was still standing with her ratty glove to her face when Mike's extended-cab pickup came around the corner. He pulled up to where she was standing—after she had whipped her hand down to her side.

“Are you waiting out here to meet me?” His grin, with his raised eyebrows, was curious.

“I'm returning from a walk.”

“In this weather?”

“What can I say? I love shuffling through the snow.”

He got out of the truck holding a plastic bag. “You love shuffling through leaves, too. Is it shuffling you like? You'll make a great old person.”

She had to laugh. “Do you know anything about your power?”

“The phone message says there's a major failure in the western suburbs that includes the Minnetonka Mills area. They didn't promise it will be on any sooner than tomorrow when I called the recording. The condo might get power earlier. They're not saying. It's so close to here, you're lucky yours didn't go out.”

Chase led the way inside. She paused halfway across the kitchen floor when she heard voices out front. No one should be there now. The shop was closed and everyone had left.

“I thought you had closed,” Mike said, echoing her thoughts.

She held a finger to her lips to shush him so she could listen before she went out there.

“I could get you disqualified, you know.” That was Grace Pilsen, she was sure, her voice dripping with vitriol. How did she get inside the Bar None? “You'll get thrown out of the Minny Batter Battle.”

“You just now said this isn't the recipe you're using.” Anna was here! And she was angry.

Chase motioned for Mike to follow. He stuck his bag into the fridge first. Together, they pushed through the swinging doors.

Anna and Grace were standing at the front door. Grace waved a piece of familiar-looking paper in Anna's face, but Anna stood her ground, her arms folded and her chin out.

“What's going on?” Chase asked.

When Grace whirled toward her, the venom she shot at Chase was so virulent that Chase was very glad Mike was beside her.

“I suppose you helped her steal my recipe.”

Chase shrank away involuntarily. As Chase feared, she held the copy that Patrice had made.

“I had nothing to do with taking that,” Chase said. “And neither did Anna.” She felt her own anger rising. Who did this woman think she was, attacking Anna that way?

“I don't believe that for a minute,” Grace said with a sneer. She gave a mighty sneeze and Chase noticed how red her nose was. “How did this get into the bag of dessert bars my assistant bought here Thursday?”

How did it? Chase frowned, trying to puzzle it out. She
had put it into the pocket of her smock. Then she had gone out front to work. “What does your assistant look like?”

“What does that matter?” Grace took a threatening step toward Chase. She sneezed again, this time in Chase's face.

Chase could feel Mike close behind her. “I'm trying to figure this out. It was in my pocket. Do you have a cold? Would you like a tissue?” She felt like washing her face immediately, but that wasn't possible.

“What's important is how did
you
get it?” Grace's red nose was almost touching Chase's. It was raw, probably from wiping.

“A well-meaning person thought we would like to see the recipe,” Chase said, taking a step away from Grace's germs. She wasn't going to drag Patrice into Grace's sights. “That person brought it to me. I scolded her for doing it and never showed it to Anna. If you've shown it to her, that's the first she's seen of it.”

Grace squinted at Chase, probably not buying any of her story. Mike stepped up beside Chase.

“Wait a minute,” Chase added. “Didn't everyone have to turn in their recipes already? A week ago, wasn't it?”

Grace nodded.

Anna gave Chase an appreciative smile. “I see what you're saying,” she said.

“It doesn't make one bit of difference who knows what now,” Chase went on. “The ingredients are finalized. You can't make any changes now.”

“If you want me to,” Anna said with a smug grin, “I'll show you my recipe.”

“I could easily deconstruct all your recipes from our
samples. They're not very complicated.” Grace gave a huff and stalked out the front door. She climbed into her car, which sat at the curb. Anna's blue Volvo was parked behind it.

“What just happened?” Chase asked. “What are you doing here and what was
she
doing here?”

“I forgot to bring home Inger's smock. I told her I'd make the ties longer to accommodate her baby bump as it grows. When I got here, I saw
that Grace Pilsen's
car out front and—big mistake—let her in when she followed me to the front door.”

“Maybe she didn't know we closed today for the snow,” Chase said.

“No, she thought we were open. She waltzed in right behind me.”

“You have a sign on the door,” Mike pointed out. “It says you're closed.”

“Who knows what goes on in that woman's mind?” Anna picked up Inger's smock, which was sitting on one of the round display tables where she had set it when she opened the door. She stuffed it into her purse and headed out. “I'll see you later, Charity,” she called with a wave.

Mike shook his head. “What was that all about?”

“Besides being exposed to a nasty cold? I can't figure out how her assistant got the recipe. It had to have made its way into a bag of dessert bars somehow.”

“Why was she—or he—here buying your products?”

“Probably wanted to see how good they are. I don't think Grace has ever had anything from our place.” Chase leaned against the glass case. It was empty and the lights were off, the glass polished, waiting for the shop to reopen on Monday.
“I must have fished something out of my pocket, a pencil or even a tissue, and didn't notice that the recipe copy came out of my pocket. I'll have to ask Mallory and Inger if they remember anything about it.”

At least Mike didn't ask any more questions. She didn't want to tell him his cousin was pilfering for her and Anna.