Fat Cat At Large

THIRTY-NINE

“I’m so glad I brought along the dessert bars when I went to see Hilda Bjorn,” Anna said, taking a spoonful of minestrone at the Italian restaurant next door to the Bar None.

It had been the easiest place to meet for their early supper, although it wasn’t all that early by the time Anna showed up. Chase had finished off half a basket of breadsticks before she came. They ordered, getting the half-price bottle of wine that was the special that night, and Anna said she had great news after their orders arrived.

“You loosened her tongue? Or her memory?” Chase asked.

“Both! We started talking about the Bar None and she told me how much she liked the Raspberry Chiffon Bars she got when you had given her the free dozen.”

“A lot of good that did me! My goodwill gesture is mainly what makes me the best suspect for Detective Olson.” Chase refilled her wineglass. At this rate she was going to drink most of it. Anna’s half glassful sat untouched while she worked on her soup and the last breadstick in the basket.

“No, no, listen. She went on and on about ‘that nice girl’ who sold the bars to her. I pinned her down. She meant the girl behind the counter, the one who rang her up.”

“You mean the ‘nice girl’ that she saw go into Gabe’s at just the right time to kill him isn’t me?” Chase twirled her fork in the middle of her salad.

“It seems that it’s Violet.”

Chase dropped her fork with a clang and almost let out a whoop of astonishment in the restaurant. She restrained herself, since that behavior would have clashed with the linen tablecloths and muted lighting. She leaned over the table, putting her head close to Anna’s. “What about her saying she saw the one with the cat?”

“I asked her about that. She said she meant the shop with the cat. Not the girl with the cat.”

“We have to let Detective Olson know this.” Chase’s voice was an urgent whisper. “I think you’ll have to tell him, since Hilda talked to you. Get out your cell phone.”

Anna looked around at the nicely dressed dinner crowd. “I don’t think I should do it here.”

“All right. Let’s finish eating and go outside to do it.”

“I’m parked behind the Bar None. Walk with me after we pay.”

They finished the rest of the meal in record time and skipped dessert, even though Chase had looked forward to it for hours. This was much more important.

On the sidewalk in front of the restaurant, Anna realized that her cell phone was in her car.

“Let’s go!” Chase said. She fairly skipped through the shop and out the back beside Anna, to get to where Anna had parked behind the Bar None.

It seemed that Anna took forever to unlock her car and find her phone, which had fallen onto the floor under the passenger seat. When Anna straightened, holding the phone, she said, “I don’t know Detective Olson’s number. Do you?”

Chase grabbed her own phone from her purse. “Yes, I have it.”

She dictated the number as Anna pressed the buttons.

“Well?” Chase’s body was humming with nervous energy.

“It’s ringing. Oh, it’s going to voice mail.”

Chase deflated. “How could he? Call again.”

“There’s no point. I’ll call later.” She stuck the phone into her purse. The trees at the edge of the lot filtered the dim light from the streetlamp to send shadows scurrying along the pavement.

“I want to be off the hook,” Chase said, whining slightly. “I want the detective to know it’s Violet Peters he should have at the top of his suspect list, at least for Gabe Naughtly’s murder. I didn’t tell you yet that Julie says Torvald Iversen took out a restraining order against her, so she probably killed him, too.”

“And I guess she’s the logical person to have filched my blue marble rolling pin.”

Chase snapped her fingers. “Sure. She was in the shop and left through the kitchen shortly before I went and found Hilda. I’ll bet Vi wanted to do away with Hilda before she told someone it was her, not me, Hilda saw the day Gabe was murdered.”

A darker shadow moved across the ground between them. Chase looked around. Too late.

Violet Peters had a thin, wiry arm around Anna’s neck and the blade of a knife pressed against her throat.

Chase felt her eyes grow wide and her mouth drop open.

“Don’t make a sound.” Vi’s whisper was guttural, grating.

Chase closed her mouth, but felt her eyes still ready to pop. Blood whooshed through her eardrums and pounded inside her head.

“Both of you, into the car.”

“Vi,” Chase said, breathing hard. “Don’t do this. This isn’t the way to—”

“Be quiet. You know what I’ve done. I heard her telling you.” At the stressed word, the point pressed harder into Anna’s neck.

“We haven’t told anyone. The detective didn’t answer his phone. What you’re doing won’t do you any—”

“I said, get into the car.”

“Yes, yes, you did. We will.” Chase tried the door and pretended to be unable to open it. “It’s locked.”

“Well, unlock it.” Vi sounded like she was trying to reason with an imbecile.

Chase felt like an imbecile. Why on earth had they discussed this in such a public place? Anna should have called from inside the shop. That would have made so much more sense and would have been so much safer.

“I need her purse. The car keys.” Chase gestured to the bag on Anna’s shoulder. Vi ripped it off and threw it to Chase with more force than necessary. Chase figured all three of them were producing enormous amounts of adrenaline at the moment. She’d better be careful she didn’t set off a murderous rage in Vi.

Chase fiddled inside the purse for a moment, then fished out the car keys. “Got ’em.” She held them up.

Vi seemed to growl at her. Where was the sleek, sophisticated, attractive Violet? This woman’s face was a distorted mask of raw hatred.

Shaking less than she’d anticipated, Chase clicked the driver’s door.

“Unlock the rear doors.”

Chase reached down to the inside of the front door and complied.

“In,” said Vi to Chase. “You drive.” Vi opened the rear door, shoved Anna inside, then, quick as a flash, was in the seat beside her with the knife point at her throat again.

“Where do you want me to drive?” Chase asked.

“Let’s go out to Lake Minnetonka. It’ll be nice and dark.”

That’s when Chase’s hands started to shake.