Fat Cat Takes the Cake (17 page)

W
hen Chase called Mike, Patrice answered the phone and told her he was doing emergency surgery and would be tied up for at least another hour. Chase decided she would surprise him. Would he be happy to see her? She wasn't sure. Should she go or not? Yes, she had to. But she was afraid she'd get a cold reception.

So she called Julie and arranged to pick her up and take her along. Strength in numbers. She needed a story. Maybe they would be passing by. With dessert bars? Okay, she would say they were on their way to dinner, but she'd been missing him and decided to stop in and touch base. Or something. That would be true if she talked Julie into dinner.

Chase hummed “We'll Meet Tomorrow” from
Titanic
as she boxed up some fresh Lemon Bars. Not an entirely appropriate song, but that's what popped into her head.

Her cell trilled. It was Mike!

“Patrice says you called. So, what's on your mind?”

He sounded friendly. She was glad she had her story ready.

“Julie and I are going out to dinner and we had some leftover Lemon Bars”—that was a spur-of-the-moment embellishment, but a good one—“and I'd like to drop them off.”

“Sure. I'll be here at least another hour waiting for this pup to wake up.”

“What did he have?”

“Poor thing got hit by a car and his hind leg needed to be put back together.”

Chase was glad Mike was the vet and not her. She didn't know if she could deal with the injuries he routinely handled. Poor little pup.

•   •   •

Chase sang “I
Enjoy Being a Girl” from
Flower Drum Song
as she drove to pick up Julie.

Julie had readily agreed to grab a bite after they saw Mike.

“I've been working way too hard on a new real estate case. I'd love to take a break. So, tell me again, why did you ask me to come along?” she said.

“Things are tense between us right now and—”

“Well, duh. Quit seeing Eddie Heath. That might ease things up a bit.”

“I know. I'm going to.” As soon as she got one more piece of incriminating evidence against him.

Chase picked her up from work and she had a bulging briefcase with her. Julie had to drop off some documents to be signed at a real estate office near the University Medical Center. They discussed a few places to eat and ended up choosing a pizza place across the river, near the office Julie needed to visit.

“I don't care what I eat, as long as it's hot,” Julie said.

“They have a Hawaiian pizza, loaded with pineapple and Canadian bacon. I love their cinnamon sugar dessert slices, too. The weather is perfect for it.”

“Not perfect for much else, though, is it?”

The wind was picking up and the temperature had dropped rapidly as darkness fell. Small snow eddies swirled on the road, sparkling in Chase's headlights, and Julie reached to turn the heater up a notch.

The parking lot at Mike's Minnetonka Mills clinic was empty except for his pickup. Most of the shops were dark, but the lights shone from his window and door, the squares they made on the new snow warm and inviting. Chase hoped Mike would be as welcoming as those lights were.

He opened the door two seconds before they got to it. “Come in. It's getting nasty out there.”

“Nasti
er
, you mean,” Julie said.

Mike smiled at both of them. “Where are you two off to?”

“We decided to get hot pizza on a cold night,” Chase said.

“And didn't invite me?” He made a comical pouty face.

Was he kidding? Or did he expect to be included? Chase bit her lower lip.

“Hey, I'm only kidding,” he said with an easy grin. “I
couldn't go anyway. The pup is starting to come around and his owner will be another half hour picking him up.”

That was a relief. It would be fine to have Mike with them, but she felt they should patch things up before spending too much time together. It would be good to first get rid of Eddie completely, too. This wasn't nearly as awkward as she thought it might be so far, though, and that was a good sign.

“Patrice and I are going out later tonight,” Mike said. “So don't worry about me. I won't starve.”

“Is she doing okay?” Julie asked. She knew Patrice's history of filching things that didn't belong to her.

“I'm not sure. She said she had something to tell me, but I couldn't tell if it was something good or bad. I guess I'll see.”

There was a lull and Chase searched for something to say. Mike raised his eyebrows at her. “Weren't you going to bring me something?”

“Oh. Yes. I left them in the car.”

“I'll go,” Julie said. “I forgot them, too.”

“No, let me. I have to unlock the car.” That was a stupid thing to say. Whoever went out would have to unlock the car, be it her or Julie. But she didn't look forward to being alone with Mike and another dead silence. She hated when that happened. The only two people that made conversational lulls comfortable, to her, were Anna and Julie. Maybe, someday, with Mike it would be that way. They had been on so few dates she could count them on one hand. If she saw more of him, maybe something more could develop.

She ran out the door. When she returned, they were gone. The room was empty.

“Back here,” Mike called.

Chase went into the clinic, where the puppy was recuperating.

“Julie wanted to see Ruff.”

A small dog stared at her with warm, friendly eyes. He was definitely a dog, but what kind? That was hard to tell.

“What is he?” she asked. “Some kind of . . . wienie dog mix?” Chase breathed in the smell of strong antiseptic. For some reason, she loved it.

“Hard to say. More likely one part corgi.”

“With the coloring and fur of a Saint Bernard?” Julie asked.

“Seems that way, doesn't it? Ruff was a stray that was picked up and brought to the shelter. His owners adopted him from there. He's the friendliest little guy you'll ever meet when he's awake.” He stroked the dog's black, tan, and white fur.

Ruff's long, plumed tail stirred and his tongue lolled out of his happy mouth. He couldn't stand up because of the splint on his left rear leg. Also because he was probably still too groggy.

“Good work, doc,” Julie said. “He looks like he came through his surgery fine.”

“He'll be okay once it heals. He's still young enough to mend quickly.” He turned to the women. “Have a good time without me.”

“We will,” Julie said with a grin.

After they were in Chase's car, Julie said, “Cat got your tongue back there?”

Chase sighed. “I don't know what to say to him.”

“I kind of thought he might ask you to lunch or dinner or something.”

“I did, too.” She would have accepted in a heartbeat. She wasn't opposed to women asking men out, but, for some reason, she wanted Mike to ask her.

“Maybe he assumes you're still seeing Eddie. You should clear that up, shouldn't you?”

Yes, she should.

A
fter driving Julie to the real estate office that was staying open late for her, they drove to their dinner destination. Chase dropped Julie off in front of the pizza parlor and went to find a parking place, since the small parking lot was full. She began to worry if they would get seated inside an hour—there were so many cars. After she finally found a place around the corner on a side street, she got ready to brave the elements. She pulled her knit hat down over her hair and tucked her scarf more securely around her neck. Before she could open the door, however, her phone pinged.

Hoping it was the e-mail from Eddie that would prove—to her—that he was the killer, she fished it out of her purse and opened the message. The subject was “Healing Vinegar”
and the text contained the recipe for the horrid concoction he had given her. The address the message came from was bhelthy. Be healthy? She cringed at the misspelling, then she threw the phone into her purse, discouraged that Eddie wasn't hunkyb.

She trotted through the snowfall, increasing by the minute, the sting of her disappointment worse than the nip of the cold on her face. Before she got to the front door, she had a thought. Eddie could still be hunkyb. She herself had two e-mail addresses. She had one that she gave to merchants to get them off her back, but she rarely looked at it. She had another main address she actually used.

If he did use hunkyb, though, he wasn't using it with her and she wasn't going to be able to use that as evidence against him. She had all the information she was going to get. Now, how would she relay this to Detective Olson? Tanner didn't want anyone knowing he had hacked Ron North's account. Could she tell the detective what was found without telling him who found it? She would have to think of a better way.

Before she went inside the warm restaurant, she called Eddie.

“Where are you, Chase? What's all that noise?”

“I guess it's the wind. I'm outside.”

“Do you need some help?”

“No, I was wondering if you'd like to meet for a drink later tonight.”

“You got some place in mind?”

They settled on Amble Inn, a place she'd been to with Mike once. It wasn't far from Julie's law office, where they'd
left her car. Julie lived in that neighborhood, too, so she would drop her off and meet Eddie. And try to get something from him, anything. Some indication that he was being blackmailed by Ron, or that he was ever called Hunky or Hulk.

She would be very careful.

She and Julie were both surprised when Bart Fender came to the table to take their orders.

“You work here?” Julie asked.

“School coaches don't make as much money as lawyers.” He smiled when he said it and Chase and Julie both smiled back. The order pad was small in his big paws. “Some of us have to work two or three jobs.”

“Well, it's a nice place to work, isn't it?” Chase said, trying to soothe the fury that always seemed to simmer barely below Bart's surface.

“I don't know about that. But it's close to the hospital. I can visit Dillon before and after work pretty easy.”

A pang of guilt stung Chase. For days, she hadn't thought of poor Dillon, lying in a coma, unaware of the battle that raged between Bart and her parents about turning off her life support.

“She's still there, then?” Julie said.

Chase wanted to kick her. She didn't think they should talk about this and rile Bart up. He'd been so upset when they'd seen him there.

“For now. What do you want to drink?” His smile had disappeared.

After he left, Chase whispered to Julie, “Don't talk about Dillon, okay? It upsets him.”

“Yah, I can see that. I wasn't thinking. I won't mention her again. You're getting the Hawaiian, right?”

“And I suppose you'll have your usual pepperoni with extra cheese.”

“I sure will.”

“Listen,” Chase said. “Eddie sent me a message, before I came in. It was from bhelthy.” She spelled it for Julie.

“Is the guy illiterate? Or is he being cute?”

“Whatever. But the message wasn't from hunkyb.”

“So we still don't know who that is and why Ron North was pestering him.”

“Only,” Chase said, “that hunkyb is likely to be the person who killed him.”

Bart slammed their beers on the table so hard the foam splashed out on both of them, then took their orders with a fierce frown. Maybe it was hard to set things down gently with all those muscles. Or maybe they should both keep their mouths shut.

She whispered to Julie again after he left. “He's sure in a bad mood.”

“Sure is,” Julie agreed. “Let's eat fast and get out of here.”

They ate and paid without incident and Chase dropped Julie at her office. Before Julie shut the car door, Chase said, “Wait.”

Julie ducked her head back into the car. “Yes?”

Should she tell her she was meeting Eddie? This wasn't something she could do with Julie along. Julie would tell her not to do it, just in case he was a murderer. But they were meeting in a bar, one that was usually crowded at nine on a weeknight. No, she didn't want Julie to talk her out of it. Or
worse, to tell Anna and have her get on Chase's case. The hearing was tomorrow. She had to do this.

“Nothing. I thought it looked like you left a glove on the seat.”

Julie wiggled her fingers. “Nope. Got 'em on, see?”

“Call me tomorrow before . . . you know.”

“If I can.” Julie's teeth clamped on her lips and she left before she started crying.

How could Julie be so calm? She trusted her lawyer, but even so, if Chase had a hearing for criminal charges the next day, she would be fidgeting so bad she wouldn't be able to drive. She saw Julie get into her own car and start it up. They both beeped and Julie drove away.

Chase sat with her car idling, planning her strategy. She would try to get Eddie Heath to tell her all his e-mail addresses. Failing that, she would probe to see if he had any history that he could be blackmailed about. She worked out a strategy, or at least a way to approach this.

If none of that worked, she was going to alert the detective anyway. She called Niles Olson's cell number and it rang to voice mail. This was better than talking to him.

She spoke quickly. “I think I have a very good suspect. I'll know more in about an hour and will call you when I get home. Need to tack down some details. There's another page from Ron North's notebook to consider. Quincy hid it and I just found it.”

There. She broke the connection, muted her phone, and headed toward the Amble Inn. She didn't want the detective calling while she was with Eddie.

E
ddie frowned as he studied the bar menu. Now that Chase thought about it, she was surprised he'd agreed to meet her here. The Amble Inn wasn't a health-nut kind of place, simply a basic bar and grille.

“I don't find anything that's acceptable on this menu,” he said, laying it on the table. “How can people eat like this? No wonder—”

“Sorry. I assumed you had already eaten. I thought we were having a drink.”

“Oh sure, that'll be fine. You don't need to eat?”

“Just had . . . dinner . . . with Julie.” She had been about to say pizza, but thought that might get her a long lecture.
How can people eat like this?

Eddie picked up the beer list. “Did you know that beer has quite a few beneficial properties?”

“Really?” That's why he could meet her at a bar. Beer was good for you. As opposed to that toxic hard liquor, she supposed.

“It's actually just as healthy for you as wine. Contains polyphenols that are antioxidant. Reduces the chances of getting kidney stones, too.”

“I was going to have wine, but I'd better have a brewski, then.” Chase smiled. At least there was one consumable they could agree on. Two, with wine
and
beer.

Eddie cross-examined the waiter about what was on tap and ordered a raspberry ale.

“That sounds awfully good,” Chase said. “I'll have the same.”

“Peanuts and pretzels?” the waiter asked.

Chase said yes before Eddie could nix them.

“Peanuts are a good source of protein, but pretzels are pure salt and carbs,” he said after the waiter left. She'd been pretty sure that was what he would say. Thanks to her jumping in, they would get the salt and carbs as well as the protein. Did the guy have to measure and evaluate everything?

To her horror, she recognized the trio getting out of the booth across the room. She turned her face and tried to shrink to nothingness, to become invisible. It didn't work.

“Chase! How nice to see you here.” Patrice made her way between the tables with a huge grin.

Mike and Patrice's mother—Mike's Aunt Betsy—hung back near their booth. Chase couldn't look at Mike after that first glance.

“Say, I don't think I've apologized enough for making trouble for Anna,” Patrice said, oblivious to the tension that stretched between Chase and Mike. She turned to Eddie. “Who's your friend? Have we met?”

“This is Eddie Heath.” Chase tried for a smile, but her expression was probably too thin and tight to qualify. “He has a health bar not far away.”

“How nice.” Patrice shook Eddie's hand. Chase hoped he wouldn't be missing a watch or a ring later tonight. “See you around.”

“Who was that?” Eddie asked after they had left. “Wasn't that the vet over there?”

“Yes, that's Dr. Ramos. Patrice is his cousin. I know her through him.”

Eddie told a story about his first pet, a squirrel that had fallen from a tree. It hadn't worked out. As soon as the squirrel reached adulthood, it went crazy trying to claw its way out of the cage, until Eddie let it loose in his yard.

“I thought it would remember me and I could hand-feed it nuts after that, but it never came back. I couldn't tell it from any of the other squirrels.”

After the beer mugs arrived—these served gracefully without sloshing, not at all the way Bart had done—she started in on her mission. She picked up the beer list, having noticed it gave her a great jumping-off point.

“See this?” She pointed to the verbiage at the bottom, asking the patrons if they wanted to be added to the mailing list. “Do you think anyone does that?”

Eddie shrugged. “No idea.”

“I sometimes give my e-mail address to things like this,
but I use a different one. One that I reserve just for promotional stuff. In fact, I'm thinking of getting a third address for business. Do you have a separate e-mail for your business?”

“Nope. Only the one. I use it for everything. But I only give it to people I want to get e-mail from.”

Dead end on that road. She took a swig of her ale. “Wow, this is good.”

“That it is. I've never had it here. I'll have to remember it.”

Her next topic would be anything Eddie had done that might be worthy of blackmail. Now how was she going to approach that?

“Are you going to want another beer?” he asked.

A kernel of a thought formed. “I think I'll stick with having only this one, since I had a beer earlier.” Now she was going into new territory with him, making up lies. “I had a bad experience with drinking too much beer once. Years ago. Did some awfully dumb things.”

“You have to be careful. A beer or two may be healthy, but being drunk isn't.”

“Haven't you ever done anything you'd rather not have anyone know about?” She watched him carefully.

“Can't think of anything that bad.”

“Anything that would get you, say, blackmailed?”

“Definitely not anything like that.” He chuckled.

She didn't think he was lying. But his name was H and he was hunky and hulky. Was she totally wrong? Was she not going to be able to help Julie at all?

She must have looked defeated, because Eddie asked if something was wrong.

“No, but I have to get going soon.”

“We just got here.” He frowned. “Why did you ask me to meet anyway?”

She glanced up into the corner. “Oh, I wanted to see you. Touch base.”

“Because it's been so long since you've seen me?” His sarcasm was understandable. She was making a mess of things now.

She thought of something he would believe. “I did want to see you, but I have a stomachache. Julie and I had pizza earlier and—”

“Pizza? Commercial pizza? That stuff is poison. No wonder you feel bad. Should I drive you home?”

“No, no. I'm sure I can make it. And I'd love to finish this delicious ale.” That was true. She would have to come back another day and get a glass of raspberry ale she could drink in peace. With Mike, preferably, if he ever spoke to her again. “But I think I'd better go home and lie down.”

“No, don't lie down. At least prop your head up. Do you have a recliner?”

She shook her head. “I can lie on the couch with a bunch of pillows.”

“That would be the best thing for you.”

She chattered while she fished for some bills from her purse. “People I know keep turning up tonight. I thought it was strange, but Bart Fender was working in the pizza place.”

“Lots of high school teachers have second jobs. They don't get paid much.” He reached across the table and put his hand on hers. The unwanted spark was still there. His
touch went straight to her innards. She had a wild desire to grab both his hands, to kiss him, to . . .

“I'll get it,” he said. “You go home and rest. Come by tomorrow and I'll give you something that will help if you don't feel better. It might take some time for that toxin to get out of your body.”

“I have to work, but thanks. I'll probably be better soon.”

She fled before he could offer to drop by with a health drink for her tonight.