Fat Cat At Large

TWENTY-TWO

On Monday, the shop was closed. It felt so good to sleep in, Quincy curled against her back in a warm, silky soft ball, that Chase wondered if she could stay in bed all day. Then her back reminded her that she needed to see about getting a massage. After a long soak in the tub with lavender bath salts—which didn’t help her back at all—she called Mike to see if talking to him would cheer her up. But he could only talk for a half a minute, telling her he would be in surgery for a few hours with an emergency for a dog with some sort of problem. Something about X-rays and stomach.

It was past time for her to get a massage. She knew just the place, too. There was a parlor called The Refinery in the next block. Anna went there regularly for mani-pedis. Chase was tempted to go all out and get ninety minutes, but, when she got there, she opted for only an hour. It was late morning already and she thought she’d want lunch before an hour and a half, having grabbed only a fruit bar before her bath. The fruit bar hadn’t stayed with her. She should have eaten a Hula Bar.

The Refinery was a peaceful, soothing place, with an Asian symbol in the front window that, their sign said, meant “purify, cleanse, refine.” If only she could do all three of those in the next hour. There was an appointment available immediately. Maybe this day would continue on a lucky note.

After she’d been kneaded and pressed and rubbed thoroughly to the soothing strains of ambient music, and the masseuse had quietly left and closed the door so she could get dressed, Chase rose from the massage table cautiously, not daring to twist her back and undo what she was feeling. It was so much better, she wanted it to last. She was careful getting dressed, just in case. No pain stepping into her jeans. That was good. No pain bending over to pick up her shoes. Even better.

She felt so good, she decided to walk to Hilda Bjorn’s and talk to her before she lost her nerve. Julie had raised a point that Chase thought might possibly be valid. After all, Julie had a law degree. Just to check, Chase had gotten on the computer and looked up the term interfering with a witness, which looked like it had a lot in common with tampering with a witness. Tampering seemed to involve threats and physical force. She would avoid those two things.

She had to pass Mike’s place on her way. She wanted to stop in and see if he had a moment to talk, since she hadn’t had a chance to since she was brought in for questioning. She knew he came home for lunch sometimes. However, his extended-cab pickup was gone, so he was probably still in surgery at his clinic, fixing up the poor dog who had the problem, whatever it was. Maybe she could talk to him on her way back if his truck was there. He owned that big truck for the times he had to go to farms and take care of livestock and horses. He hauled a lot of equipment on those trips, she knew.

A new seriously cold front had moved in during the night and she’d had to bundle up for her walk to The Refinery. Going to the spa, she’d faced south, so it was cold, but not too bad. Now that she was heading north it was even chillier, a brisk wind making her glad she’d worn a wool scarf and her down jacket.

Hilda wasn’t on her front porch today. That wasn’t surprising, given the temperatures in the thirties. If the wind blew the clouds away, it might warm up. Chase mounted the porch steps and knocked on Hilda’s door. Her wicker rocker moved a bit in a forceful gust. There was no answer. She tried again.

The man who lived next door, the absentminded Professor Fear, was walking to his home from somewhere. She figured he was coming home for lunch. “Do you know where Ms. Bjorn is?” Chase called.

He shrugged and shook his head. He didn’t seem too concerned. “Maybe over at the church.”

Disappointed, Chase retraced her steps until she was half a block from Mike’s place. Both his truck and his car sat by the curb, so he was home. Her disappointment evaporated and she found her heart giving a slight flutter as she stopped. A matching sensation in her tummy reminded her of the small fruit bar she’d eaten, and that she’d been hungry again soon after she’d eaten it. She was ravenous now.

She had taken a step forward, toward Mike’s condo, when his door opened and a woman stepped out. Mike followed her, his hand on the small of her back.

Chase halted, taken aback by the intimate gesture. She stood next to a tree that cast a shadow over her, so the couple wouldn’t notice her.

The redhead she had seen in Mike’s office leaned into him, then turned and threw her arms around his neck. He returned the embrace, hugging her tightly. Chase shrank away. The embrace continued. She reversed her course and stumbled to the corner. Circling the block and continuing by way of her detour, she found her way home.

She mounted the steps to her apartment and fumbled with her key. Quincy greeted her with an insistent meow that sounded hungry. Chase, however, found that her appetite had vanished.