Fat Cat At Large (A Fat Cat Mystery)

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 the 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?

“He . . . may be getting . . . something.” She scratched between her cat’s ears, right on his stripes, where he liked it.

“Would you like to come in tomorrow and weigh him here?”

“Sure, I’d— No, I can’t tomorrow. It’s Friday. The shop will be tremendously busy until school opens next Tuesday.”

“What time do you close?”

“At six.”

“I can stay late for you, if you’d like to come by then.”

She’d prefer to meet him somewhere that wasn’t furnished with stainless steel tables, but that would do for now. Maybe she’d bring him some Almond Cherry Bars.

“I also called to see how you’re doing, Chase.”

“Not all that well.”

“I’m concerned about you being mixed up in a murder mess.”

That was sweet. The man was good looking. And hadn’t accused her of embezzlement. So he was a huge step up from the last guy she’d dated, Shaun Everly.

“I’m holding up pretty well, Dr. Ramos.”

“Mike.”

“Okay, Mike.”

“If there’s anything I can do, don’t hesitate to let me know.”

She couldn’t imagine what that would be, but she thanked him for his kind offer.

“I’ll see you about six thirty?”

After she hung up, Chase had a warm, fuzzy tingle that Mike was thinking of her. She picked Quincy up and danced around the small room with him, being careful not to stomp her feet too heavily so Anna wouldn’t come up and ask what she was doing. Quincy seemed puzzled by the activity, but went along with it, although he flattened his ears a bit.

Anna had offered to do the books again. Chase hoped there wouldn’t be more money missing tonight.

After a light supper and another attempt to convince Quincy that his diet food was delicious, she tried Julie again. Still no answer.

As she crawled into bed with a book she was sure she wouldn’t be able to concentrate on, her cell rang. She saw Julie’s ID. At last!

“I have so much to tell you,” Chase began.

“I have some news, too, but you go first.”

“You want the good news or the bad news first?”

“Bad,” said Julie. “Get it out of the way.”

“This isn’t too bad. We had a violation on the health inspection, but it’s an easy fix—just the sign missing that tells us to wash our hands. Stupid regulation anyway. Here’s the good news. Sort of. I think Quincy’s vet might like me.”

Quincy raised his head and blinked at the mention of his name. Chase scratched the short, soft fur between his ears and he closed his eyes, purred, and leaned into her fingers.

“You’re not sure that it’s good news?”

“Not really. He aggravates the heck out of me. He’s so critical of Quincy.”

“Chase, I think he’s trying to keep your baby healthy. That’s not a bad thing.”

“I suppose. Now, what’s your news?”

“I have a new case, a big one.”

“Ooo, great! Can you tell me about it?”

“Not yet. It’ll be a high-profile trial, so you’ll read about it. I’m excited!”

“Are you going to be superbusy?”

“Probably. Why? Do you need something?”

“How can you tell?” Chase smiled. Her anxiety must have been transmitting through the phone waves. “I was wondering if you could find out what the police file says about me. Detective Olson told me not to leave town. He said mine were the only fingerprints on the murder weapon.”

“There you go! You didn’t murder Naughtly. This is the proof.”