Fat Cat At Large (A Fat Cat Mystery) Page 5

  He looked disappointed in her question. Well, maybe that had been a dumb thing to ask. But why did she care what Detective Olson thought about her?

  “I’d like you to stop at the counter before you leave, too,” he said. “We need to get your prints.”

  She was relieved that the procedure was electronic and didn’t get black goo all over her fingers, like she’d seen on TV.

  That evening, after the shop closed and the bickering employees had left, Chase sipped a cup of decaf in the kitchen with Anna. Anna had baked most of the day, until the traffic had slowed in the afternoon, giving the women a chance to get ahead on chores. Now the cooking equipment was all cleaned and put away, ready for Thursday morning. The sweet bakery aromas of the day lingered, giving the kitchen a close, homey feel.

  “About the rats . . .” began Chase.

  “Bill wouldn’t have said anything.” Anna seemed to be reading Chase’s mind again.

  “How did Laci hear about the rats, then?”

  “Vi heard, too,” said Anna. “Did they both seem evasive about telling us who’s been talking?”

  “Maybe it’s Ted,” said Chase. “Do you suppose he released them, for his father? I can’t see Laci doing it, just because they’re seeing each other, but Ted’s a strange guy.”

  “I don’t know about strange, but he is troubled. He’s had a problem with light fingers all his life.”

  “I didn’t know that. Is that why he got sent home from college? Doris said it was his grades.”

  “No doubt it was. I don’t think you get expelled for shoplifting.”

  “That’s an ugly word,” said Chase. “But I have noticed some of the boxed treats near the front of the store have been disappearing. Our count has been short three times. Do you think Ted’s pilfering them?”

  Anna shrugged. “Wouldn’t surprise me. After all, who does he have for parents?”

  “What is it with you and Doris?” Chase knew they didn’t like each other, but with the recent events, she wanted to know more.

  “Ancient history.” Anna waved a hand in the air. “Have you found out anything about the missing cash register money?”

  “No, of course not. I’d tell you if I did.” Chase hadn’t exactly said money was missing, just that she couldn’t get the accounts to balance.

  Anna rose to wash out her cup in the sink. Quincy was doing his nightly counter prowl. He patrolled for stray tidbits, acting like he was just out for a walk, his tail held high as he sauntered.

  Tonight didn’t seem to be the right time to find out about Doris and Anna and what the animosity was about. Ted was also an enigma to Chase. Laci proclaimed how sensitive he was, and how upset by his parents’ impending divorce. Chase couldn’t tell that he was bothered by anything, though. Was his apparent indifference a self-protective façade? If he had a history of shoplifting, he’d probably been troubled for quite some time. Maybe his parents’ relationship had been stormy for a long time—maybe always.

  Chase yawned. “I’d better go close out the cash drawer.”

  “No need. I’m sure that session at the police station tired you.”

  “It must have. I’m beat.”

  “You go upstairs and rest,” Anna said. “I’ll close.”

  “We agreed I’d do that,” said Chase.

  “I know, but I’m perfectly capable of it and you’re worn out. I’ll make you do extra baking tomorrow.”

  Chase knew Anna wouldn’t enforce that, but accepted her offer. It felt just a tad odd that Anna was insisting on doing the books, but the gesture was appreciated. Chase knew Anna didn’t like doing them.

  “Thanks loads, Anna. I am tired. Maybe you’ll have better luck. I’m not looking forward to battling Quincy into eating his healthy food. This morning he gave me the evil eye when I tried to feed him. I’ll bet he hasn’t eaten a thing all day.”

  “We’ll have to come up with something that’s good for him that he likes. Have you smelled that cat food?”

  “Cats like dead birds and mice. They surely can’t tell what smells good.”

  “Go on. I’ll lock up and wipe the counters.”

  Chase picked up her cat and dragged herself up the steps, suddenly weary from all the events of the last two days and looking forward to a snuggle with her guy, Quincy.

  The pudgy cat purred to be back upstairs, in the apartment with the soft furniture and the warm human lap. The surfaces in the office were so hard. It was time for what the humans called din dins. However, something vile was poured into the bowl where goodness used to be. He lapped up some water and walked away from the food bowl. No longer purring, his tail twitching and his ears low, he jumped onto the bed and shunned the warm lap for the rest of the evening. There were good smells in the apartment, but nothing good was being put into his food bowl.

  A light knock sounded on Chase’s apartment door. She opened it to find Anna on the landing, a worried frown on her face.

  “What is it? Come on in,” said Chase.

  “I want you to come downstairs and see something.” Anna turned and headed down.

  What on earth? Chase wondered. Anna sounded so serious. She followed the older woman.

  “There aren’t more rats, are there?” she said to Anna’s back.

  Anna didn’t answer, but led the way into the office. She pointed Chase into the chair behind the old wooden desk, which had come from Anna’s house when they opened shop. Leaning toward the computer screen, Anna pointed to a column of figures on a spreadsheet.

  “There,” Anna said.

  Chase saw it immediately. There was an obvious discrepancy in the two numbers that should balance. “You’ve checked this?”

  “And rechecked and rechecked. We’re short one hundred dollars in cash. It’s probably not an error making change.”

  Chase remembered Vi complaining that Ted had been behind the counter with Laci. “You think Ted took it?”

  “I have no idea. Someone took it.”

  The silence hung between them with a somberness that made Chase squirm inside. “Could you talk to Ted?”

  “If you think I should,” said Anna.

  “Someone should.”

  “If you insist, I’ll do it.”

  “I’ll let you.” Chase couldn’t imagine how she would start that discussion. She stood so Anna could sit down and close the computer program.

  “Quincy didn’t eat a thing tonight,” Chase said as they entered the kitchen. “I’m getting worried about him.”

  “Poor thing. He’s starving.”

  “I don’t think he is. Otherwise he’d eat his dinner.”

  Was Anna still slipping him treats during the day? She’d have to watch for that tomorrow.

  FIVE

  Chase had gone over the numbers at least five times Thursday morning. Anna was right. Money was missing. She’d been hunched over the keyboard in the tiny office for a couple of hours, enduring Quincy’s plaints while he sniffed and pawed at the bottom of the door, trying to hook the corner with his claws. At one point, he even jumped onto the two-drawer filing cabinet that sat next to the door and tried to turn the slick brass doorknob.

  “If you had opposable thumbs, you’d be dangerous,” she told him. He had the right idea and apparently knew exactly how to open the door, just couldn’t physically do it.

  Her eyes were blurring from concentrating on the screen for so long. With a huff of exasperation, she pushed her chair away. Careful to keep Quincy confined—who knew when another health inspector might come by?—she left the office and went to the front to see how the day was going. It was almost lunchtime and she’d heard the front door chimes as the door opened and closed almost nonstop. This week was good for business, but she’d be glad when it was over.

  When she entered the salesroom, Anna was at the cash register and Doris Naughtly hover
ed nearby.

  “Where are Laci and Vi?” asked Chase. She and Anna had hired those two so they wouldn’t have to work in the front themselves.

  “Vi got what she said was an urgent call and said she had to leave,” said Anna. “Laci is by the front window with Ted, who is probably stealing our merchandise.”

  Doris whirled on Anna. “What did you just say?”

  “I said,” answered Anna with measured tones, “that it’s highly likely that your son, the thief, is stealing from our store.”

  “You shut your mouth! Don’t you talk about my son that way!”

  Chase cringed at Doris’s shrieking. “Please—”

  “Shall I talk about his thieving mother instead?” Anna still held her voice low.

  Doris got even louder. “I never stole him! He wasn’t yours!”

  Anna closed her eyes for half a minute. “Doris, it all turned out okay. But please pay attention to what your son is doing.”

  Doris huffed at Anna and clamped her mouth shut. “I’ll raise my son my own way, thank you very much.”

  Chase was beginning to hyperventilate. Every customer in the store, and there were at least a dozen, had paused to listen to the altercation. At least Anna didn’t answer her back.

  Doris’s face flushed to match the raspberry stripes on the walls and her fists were clenched tight.

  “Doris. Please.” Chase held up her hands, palms out, and stepped in front of Doris to put herself between the two women.

  “I’m sorry, Doris,” Anna said. “I know you’ve just lost your husband. Chase, will you take over?”

  Anna shoved the cash drawer shut a little more forcefully than necessary and returned to the kitchen. Chase had no choice but to slip behind the counter as Doris pointed to the dessert bars she wanted. “One dozen.”

  “The thing is,” Doris said, leaning over the counter to confide in Chase, “I wasted all that money on a divorce lawyer.” Even though she was bent close to Chase, she didn’t lower her voice one bit. At best, you could call her normal tone strident. Now, complaining, it was bitter, too. One of her buttons caught on the edge of the display case. Chase heard it hit the floor with a tiny ping.

  Chase could hear Anna muttering through the double doors, but she couldn’t understand what she was saying. That was good, she figured, because then Doris couldn’t either.

  Chase couldn’t help but cringe at the woman’s cold heart. Doris had thrown Gabe out and he’d ended up dead.

  Chase was flustered, but tried to sound calm and reasonable as she told Doris the amount. “Are you going to pay for Ted’s purchases?” she added, trying for a wide-eyed innocent look. Chase peered around Doris to see that he held a hand behind his back. He hung his head, came forward, and deposited on the counter the two boxes he held.

  He had been going to shoplift them, Chase realized. Anna was right. But then, she was usually right.

  After the Naughtlys had paid for everything and left, Chase called an embarrassed-looking Laci to work the counter so she could try to talk to Anna in the kitchen. A bit of the history between Anna and Doris had come out, but she wanted to know the whole story. She wanted some leverage to prevent another scene like this one.

  Chase perched on a stool at the kitchen island with a glass of iced tea while Anna pulled a bowl of dough, partially mixed, from the refrigerator. “Anna, did you date Gabe?”

  Anna’s back, which was turned to Chase, stiffened slightly. “Why would you think that?” She gave the dough she was kneading a vicious whack.

  “You just now said to Doris—”

  Vi rushed through the back door. Both Anna and Chase turned to stare. “Sorry. I had to take care of something.” She ran through the kitchen, into the front room.

  Anna said it first. “What on earth is the matter with Violet?”

  “I don’t know. She’s usually so well groomed.”

  “Her hair’s a mess.”

  “And it’s not easy to mess up that short bob,” Chase said.

  “I’ve never seen her with her shirttails out. Sometime this afternoon, I’ll try to take her aside and see what’s bothering her.”

  “Let me,” said Chase, not trusting Anna’s instincts today. She was afraid Anna would terminate Violet. She couldn’t read the look Anna gave her as the older woman stuck a metal bowl on the mixer and lowered the beaters with a clang.

  “If you insist,” muttered Anna.

  Chase heard the office phone and went to answer it, shooing Quincy from the door. A glance at the caller ID told her it was the Minnesota Department of Health. She steeled herself to hear the results of the inspection and answered the call. Her spirits fell as the woman told her there was a problem. But when she said it was minor, Chase relaxed a bit. The sign cautioning employees to wash their hands was missing from the restroom, the woman said.

  Chase hung up and went to check. Sure enough, it had fallen off the wall and slipped behind the wastebasket. She put it back up, using more tape this time, then went to see what needed doing in the shop.

  The atmosphere was chilly in the kitchen, though the air was actually warm, full of the smell of baking cookie dough. Anna was making Almond Cherry Bars. They almost always made Chase’s mouth water, but today her tongue felt dry. Something was bugging Anna, something beyond the issue with Doris.

  “Who was on the phone?” asked Anna, not looking up from her task.

  “Health department. One teensy violation and I just fixed it.” She told her about the sign and Anna suggested they use tacks or nails.

  “Good idea,” said Chase. “They didn’t say when they’d reinspect.”

  “Speaking of health and cleaning up,” said Anna, “our delivery seems to have shorted us on paper towels. Could you please do me a favor and run out and get some?”

  Why was Anna being so formal? Getting paper towels wouldn’t be doing her a favor. They both needed the shop to have supplies. Chase shrugged and went out the front door. She crossed the street and walked down the block toward House of Hanson. Right before she entered through the recessed red door, she caught a reflection in the door’s glass that made her stop cold.

  Dare she turn around? The man across the street had come from the direction of the video shop and was walking toward the apartments in the next block. The man was tall and blond. He looked too much like Shaun Everly. The man entered the door to an apartment building. She refused to think that Shaun was here, in Minneapolis. She gave a shudder and entered the tiny grocery to pick up some paper towels.

  Shaun Everly was the reason she’d left Chicago. She never wanted to see him again. Ever.

  SIX

  As Chase trudged up the steps to her apartment at the end of the day, her cell phone trilled. The caller ID said “MN Police,” so she figured she’d better answer it. She clicked the button, juggling Quincy while she unlocked and opened her door.

  “Miss Oliver?” It was the cute detective, Niles Olson. Her heart quickened. If he wanted a date, she’d go, she decided right then. His voice was lovely over the phone.

  “Yes?” There was, she was sure, a big smile in her voice. “This is Chase.” She drew her name out. She realized she was flirting. With a policeman! What had gotten into her?

  “We have a match on the prints.”

  “The prints?” She kicked the door shut and set Quincy on the floor. “Fingerprints?”

  “Yes, yours match the ones on the murder weapon.”

  “Well, yes, I told you I touched it.” She opened the fridge and pulled out a package of cheese. Quincy displayed mild, dignified interest.

  “They’re the only ones.”

  She froze with the refrigerator door open. The cat moved closer and put his front paws on the bottom shelf.

  “Miss Oliver? Are you there?”

  “Yes. What are you saying?” She returned the cheese to t
he refrigerator drawer, shooed Quincy out, and closed the door with a whomp of the gasket. Some of the air seemed to go out of the apartment, making it hard to breathe. Quincy stalked off as if he had never displayed any interest in the refrigerator.

  “I’m saying you’d better not leave town any time soon. If you must, please clear it with me first.”

  “Oh.” She clicked the phone off. Not leave town? The only fingerprints on the weapon? She was a suspect?

  Chase sat in her stuffed chair and hyperventilated. Quincy seemed to sense her real distress and climbed into her lap, purring loudly. She stroked his silky back absently.

  After what may have been minutes and may have been an hour, it registered that Quincy felt heavier than ever.

  Chase needed to talk to someone. Not Anna. She called her best friend, Julie. She and Julie had taken skating lessons together, had camped out at Lake Minnetonka every summer, cross-country skied on the golf courses every winter, had shared the stories of their first kisses in eighth grade, had cried together when Julie got stood up at a junior high school dance, and knew all of each other’s secrets. Chase needed to hear a friendly voice, so she did what she usually did. She called Julie.

  There was no answer. She texted, “Call ASAP SOS.”

  Within five minutes her cell rang.

  Chase opened the connection without checking caller ID. “Julie?”

  “No, this is Dr. Ramos.”

  Chase pictured his dark, curly hair and those liquid brown eyes. Her heart lurched slightly. “Yes?”

  “I’m calling to see how Quincy is doing.”

  “Oh.” He was just interested in the cat. “To tell you the truth, something isn’t working. I don’t have a scale, but it seems like he’s gaining weight.”

  “You’re feeding him the prescription meals and treats?”

  “Oh yes. I am, Dr. Ramos.” Other people may not be, though. Other people, like Anna.

  “Please call me Mike. Do you think he’s getting into anything else to eat?” Was he a mind reader?