Fat Cat At Large

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 hovered 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.