Fat Cat Takes the Cake Page 3

  Mallory took a step back, amazement and a bit of fear on her face.

  “Sorry to startle you,” Chase said. “But cats can’t have chocolate. It’s very bad for them.”

  “Really? My dad used to give our cat, Mittens, the last bite of his chocolate bar all the time.”

  “A little won’t hurt them,” Mike said. “But it’s a good policy not to give it to cats. Besides, Quincy doesn’t need anything extra.”

  Chase finally managed to extract a promise from Mike that he would accompany her to the reunion on Saturday. It might be a fun night, she thought.

  After Mike kissed her good-bye and Inger left, Anna said, “It’s time. I have to turn in my recipe Saturday for the Batter Battle.”

  Mallory had stayed to finish putting away the baking utensils. “Already?” she said.

  “What do you have?” Chase asked.

  “The basic muffin dough part is good, I think. But it feels like I need something else. I’ve tried putting a cinnamon-sugar crumb topping on them, but didn’t like the way that turned out. It’s so messy.”

  “What else have you tried?” Mallory asked, closing the drawer on the last of the whisks.

  “I tried to do a thick vanilla frosting. That made them too sticky-sweet.”

  “What about adding blueberries? That’s my favorite muffin.”

  “Blueberries. Yes, that’s what’s missing. And what goes on top?”

  “How about a vanilla drizzle?”

  Anna considered for a moment. “We don’t have any with drizzled icing. Mostly powdered-sugar toppings. That might work. It would be different.”

  “And you could put some sherry flavoring in them,” Mallory said with excitement. “I saw a bottle of that in the grocery store last week and I’ve been trying to think where a person would use it. I think it would be pretty good.”

  “Sherry flavoring? Excellent,” Anna said. “Let’s do it.”

  The three of them stayed late working on the recipe. Near midnight, they all left the kitchen, happy with the results. Anna’s Blueberry Muffin Bar recipe might be a winner at the Minny Batter Battle.

  • • •

  Chase felt like three was a crowd as she walked into the Hammond High School gymnasium with Julie and Jay Wright, the tall, dimpled criminal defense attorney Julie was dating. Chase gritted her teeth at the thought that Mike Ramos had stood her up at the last minute. She’d told him about the reunion Thursday night. Then, the very next day, he remembered an out-of-town conference for the AVMA in Albuquerque. Some old veterinarians’ group. He flew out Friday and was getting home late Saturday. She hoped he had to buy a last-minute plane ticket that cost a fortune. That would serve him right for preferring a bunch of stupid animal doctors to her company.

  She and Julie had ridden over together through the cold rain in Chase’s Ford Fusion. The reunion was slated to start at eight o’clock and end at midnight. They’d timed their arrival to be fashionably late, at eight thirty. On the way, Julie said she had a problem and she needed Chase’s input.

  “Sure. Shoot.”

  “You remember Professor Fear? The guy who lives next door to Hilda Bjorn?”

  Chase nodded, concentrating on the dark, slick streets.

  Hilda Bjorn had nearly been killed because she knew too much when Gabe Naughtly, who lived across the street from the elderly woman, was murdered. In the course of things, she became a fan of the Bar None. Her neighbor, a university professor, looked after the old woman. Ms. Bjorn also seemed to look after him, since he was quite absentminded.

  “Andy Fear called our office and asked for some advice. Since I’m the new gal, they gave him to me. Translation: This is a low-paying job.”

  “I wouldn’t think he would have a lot of extra money for lawyers.”

  “He doesn’t. I got permission to make this a pro bono case, especially after I delved into it.”

  “Now you have me curious.” She braked for a red light. Red-and-green blinking lights from a nearby shop window blended in the wet reflection of the stoplight and taillights ahead of her. The wipers were only on medium speed, but she was considering turning them to high. The pattering raindrops were becoming more insistent.

  “He wants me to go over an offer that Ms. Bjorn got for her house.”

  “She’s selling her house?” Chase was surprised at that. The light changed and she started up.

  “No, she’s not. That’s what he found odd. She got the offer out of the blue from someone who came to her door.”

  Chase frowned as she turned the wipers to high. “You brought an umbrella, I hope,” she said to Julie. “What did you find out?”

  “Nothing yet. I’m going over to talk to her tomorrow. I’m sure I’ll tell her not to take the offer. Professor Fear said the amount was ridiculously low. It sounded high to Ms. Bjorn because she bought her house so long ago and the offer is much more than she paid.”

  After their dash through the rain, they arrived at the gym laughing. Jay Wright was waiting at the door for Julie. Chase made a beeline for the punch bowl. She would have to have a drink early so it would be out of her system by the time she had to drive home through the deluge.

  Bart Fender stood at the punch bowl like he was guarding it and the delicious-looking cake beside the other goodies.

  “Is it any good?” she asked the former star wrestler for Hammond High. She remembered he was a strong-looking guy back then, but his muscles were almost terrifying now.

  His smile came across as strained. Maybe because of the acne damage to his face. “It’s all right. I’ve got a little something extra if you’d like to add it.”

  “No thanks. This will be fine.” She dipped herself a punch cup of the red liquid and sipped. Sweet and gooey, with a tiny hint of rum. She wished she had been on the punch committee for this gala. Then they would have had decent punch. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about driving after drinking this.

  “Do you think our boy has a chance this time?” she asked Bart, staring up at the “Vote for Rich Byrd” banners strung from the ceiling.

  He turned his head and raised his eyes to them, displaying a shiny dome. “You got me.” He had had nice hair when he was younger, she remembered. Bart Fender had been a local hero, winning the state wrestling championship for Hammond both his junior and senior years.

  “There you are.” Julie and Jay came to the table for some punch.

  “How is it?” Jay asked.

  Chase stuck her tongue out and pointed her finger to it, the universal symbol for “so awful it gags me.”

  “Oh well,” Julie said. “It’s wet.”

  A trio of men approached Jay. “We need an impartial judge to settle a bet. How much do you know about football?”

  Julie groaned. “He knows just about everything.”

  “Come over here, then. It won’t take but a minute.”

  “Be right back,” Jay said, and left with them.

  Bart had left, too, so Chase was alone for a moment with Julie.

  They both noticed that Dickie Byrd’s voice was rising above the moderate din.

  “I’d say the guest of honor is enjoying his party,” Julie said.

  “Getting a little tipsy,” Chase agreed. “He sure isn’t getting looped on this insipid, sweet punch. It tastes like that fake strawberry flavoring that Anna tried out once. Awful stuff.”

  “Look at Monique. I would say she’s not pleased, wouldn’t you?”

  Chase saw her, a few feet away from the circle around her husband. She yanked at her hair, which prompted Chase to remember how she used to pull it out when she was stressed in high school.

  “Oops. I’d say the campaign manager is upset.”

  “Oh no,” Julie said softly. “Save me.”

  “Julie, where have you been? I’ve been waiting and waiting for you to show
up.” It was Ron North, who, Chase thought, must have been adding his own juice to the punch, too. He lurched toward them, leering at Julie and breathing out the mixed aromas of peanuts and whiskey.

  Chase felt the hairs on the nape of her neck rise.

  “I heard you were part’a that real estate scam. True?”

  “What are you talking about?” Julie inched away from Ron. Chase heard her breath quicken.

  He stepped closer, invading her personal space. “The lowball offers. I know you’re involved.”

  Julie gave an exasperated puff, backed up some more, and sipped her punch.

  “You don’ wanna drink any a tha’ stuff. Here, I got good stuff.” He dug a small flask from his pocket and attempted to pour some into Julie’s cup.

  Chase would have to remember to carry a flask at the next class reunion. Everyone seemed to know to do that but her.

  Julie snatched her punch away before the stream could hit her cup and the strong-smelling bourbon poured onto the floor.

  “Now look wha’ you did.” Ron gave Julie an ugly sneer. “You’re gonna have to make that up to me.”

  Before either Chase or Julie could react, he grabbed Julie’s short brown hair, pulled her forward, and mashed her face into his.

  Julie shoved him away, but he grabbed on to her silk scarf.

  By that time Jay had seen what was going on and had returned.

  “That’s enough, buddy,” he said to Ron, tapping his shoulder. “You need to leave this lady alone.”

  Since Jay towered over him, Ron staggered backward, bumping the sturdy punch table. He managed to stay upright as he stuffed Julie’s scarf into his hip pocket, and put up his hands to fend Jay off.

  Julie and Jay hurried away and Chase decided not to stick around Ron North any longer either. While everyone stared at the commotion, Chase crept away and left Ron by himself at the punch bowl.

  Chase found some women who had been in her senior Honors English class and joined in their conversation about what they’d been doing since high school. Two were married with small children at home and three were working locally. They all showed interest in visiting the Bar None when Chase told them about it.

  “Did you hear about Dillon Yardley?” one of the moms asked.

  Two of them nodded but Chase said she hadn’t heard.

  “Is she still in a coma?”

  “A coma?” Chase asked. “What happened?”

  “She tried to kill herself,” the first mom whispered.

  “No wonder Bart isn’t having a good time,” said the other mom.

  “Why is that?” Chase said.

  “They were going together.”

  Chase shuddered. Poor Bart Fender. He did seem pretty grim, but she couldn’t blame him if his girlfriend was in a coma. Bart approached Julie, who was talking to Jay. Chase saw Julie nod to Bart, then he moved away after handing her something small.

  She saw Eddie Heath with a knot of former jocks, some of whom had let their football muscles turn to quite a bit of fat. She avoided being in that part of the gym.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she also kept track of Ron North. He stayed near the punch bowl, talking with classmates as they visited it. She saw him in serious conversation, or so it looked, with the man who had been principal all this time, Mr. Snelson. He was a tall, imposing man, which had served him well as principal. He was also recognizable in a crowd because of his shock of snowy white hair. An older man, shorter and dumpier, wearing a vest that was too short to meet his belt, accompanied Snelson. Ron talked and gestured to both of them. He also splashed his bourbon into their drinks successfully.

  The shorter man said something and angrily waved his hands, then walked away. The next time Chase noticed, Snelson had also left Ron. She spotted his snowy hair and saw the two men on the other side of the room talking with the monarch of the night, Richard “Dickie” “Rich” Byrd. Those three hung out at the foot of the stage, laughing and joking, three good friends to all appearances. Dickie’s voice still rose above the others, but Chase couldn’t make out what he was saying. The other two shushed him. He looked around, then lowered his volume considerably. Chase wondered if the other man was on the school board with Dickie.

  Monique Byrd was the next person to visit the punch bowl. Ron North leered at her the way he’d done at Julie, but Monique took care of him quickly. After shaking her head a few times and pointing to her husband, Dickie, she splashed her cup of punch in Ron’s face with a dramatic fling of her arm.

  Most of the conversation in the gym stopped. Bart Fender started toward Ron. Chase thought maybe he was going to do something physical, and he was big enough to hurt scrawny little Ron North.

  But Ron headed for the door.

  Chase saw Bart follow him a few minutes later. They must have both gone home because neither of them came back. She noticed that Monique and Dickie were gone, too.

  One and two at a time, Chase’s classmates started to leave the party. It was breaking up early. It was only a little after eleven. She looked around for Julie, but she wasn’t in the room. She’d been with Jay the last time she’d seen her. The punch was horrible, but Chase was thirsty, so she headed to the table to get some more of it. Julie was there now. She smiled at Chase, then turned to address the crowd.

  “Does anyone know who this belongs to?” she shouted. Julie waved a small notebook in the air. “It was here, by the punch bowl.”

  Chase saw Julie pick up something else, look at it, then set it down.

  Nobody claimed it, but more than half the people had left by then.

  Julie walked over to Chase and showed her a business card for Bart Fender. It seemed he was selling diet supplements on the side.

  “Why do I want this?” Chase asked.

  “There, on the other side. He wrote down Dillon Yardley’s hospital room number. He said she would like some visitors.”

  “I thought she was in a coma.”

  “Me, too. It was strange.” Julie turned to talk to another classmate.

  Then it happened, the thing Chase dreaded. Heading toward her was Eddie Heath.

  FOUR

  “Chase, you look fantastic.”

  She glanced around, but there was no retreat. She was next to the wall that held the folded bleachers.

  “I mean it. You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

  She smiled politely and lied. “It’s good to see you, too.”

  This jerk had dumped her a week before senior prom and she had ended up spending prom night in the corner with the other single girls, without a corsage on her wrist, watching him dance with the homecoming queen all night. Here she was without a date fourteen years later, too.

  She had liked dating Eddie. After all, he was a star football and basketball player. He developed muscles and a beard a year before any of the other guys. She was one of the studious kids, not interested in sports—until a sports star asked her out.

  The truth was, she’d had a crush on him for years before and was floating on a cloud the whole time they dated. Until he shoved her off the cloud and sent her crashing to the dirt.

  “I’ve thought a lot about you over the years,” he said.

  There was no reply to that. She wouldn’t admit she thought of him from time to time, too.

  “I can’t believe how badly I treated you.” He grabbed her hand.

  She froze. Sparks shot up her arm and hit her square in the heart. Nothing like this had ever happened with Mike Ramos. Her lips parted. She suddenly longed to kiss Eddie Heath.

  Maybe because he had matured early, he had never gotten very tall. He had made his way onto the basketball team by being an excellent player. Now he tended toward short and stocky, but, oh my goodness, he still had all those rippling muscles. And those bedroom eyes.

  “Can I make it up to you sometime?”

  �
��Uh . . . when?” Yes, yes, you can. Anytime.

  “Tell you what. Here’s my number.” He let go of her hand and Chase felt like the lights had gone out. Her shoulders sagged.

  Eddie wrote his cell number on the back of a business card and handed it to her.

  “You’re . . . the owner of this place?”

  “Yep, all mine.”

  The card had the words “Health from the Heath Bar” embossed in shiny green letters, with “Edward Heath, Proprietor” beneath.

  “What exactly is it?”

  “A health food bar.”

  “I guess we both own bars, then.”

  Chase realized she had never had business cards made. “Come by some time and I’ll show you our place.”

  “Our?”

  “I own the business with my partner, Anna Larson.” She told him where Bar None was located.

  Eddie flashed her a brilliant smile. “It’s a deal. Give me a call.”

  Deal, she thought, weak in the knees.

  • • •

  “Am I forgiven?” Mike walked backward in front of Chase and Quincy. “I really had forgotten all about the convention. And it’s one of those things that I had to go to.”

  Chase bent to Quincy’s level. “Do you think this harness is too tight?” Right this moment she didn’t want to talk about him standing her up. She woke up thinking about Eddie Heath, after all.

  “It’s supposed to be snug,” the veterinarian said.

  Chase was also a bit cranky because she didn’t actually want to walk Quincy in a harness. She was only doing it to get Anna off her back. She’d been harping on it for a long time. Anna thought Quincy should get some fresh air, but not by running off, as he usually did. She thought that if he got out on a nice leashed walk, he wouldn’t want to escape so much. Chase doubted that.

  However, Mike Ramos, as Quincy’s vet, supported Anna. So Chase finally gave in, bought a cat harness at the pet store, returned it because it was too small, bought another one, and was now taking her cat on his maiden stroll. It was Sunday, the morning after the reunion, so Mike wasn’t working. Chase’s shop was open, but Anna had urged her to take the walk with Mike, knowing how upset she had been that she had to go alone to the gathering.