Fat Cat Spreads Out

TWELVE

The kitchen was cleaned up and the two older women had left. Chase stood in the middle of the room, deep in thought.

Elsa could very well have killed her husband. Her motive was good, since he had a large life insurance policy. Chase assumed that he would have indeed left her high and dry if he had succeeded in divorcing her and moving to Costa Rica, cleaning out bank accounts on his way out of town. No need to spend the money on a divorce when you could leave the country and disappear.

She started pacing the floor as her thoughts warmed up.

Winn Cardiman, the butter sculptor whose design was, he said, stolen by Larry Oake, had made such a good suspect. It was a pity he had dropped out of the competition and gone home. He was angry enough to have killed the man in a fit of passion when Chase had been talking to him. Wait, maybe he did kill him, then, realizing what he’d done, left in a hurry. He could still be a suspect. Even if he didn’t need the prize money, he was angry that his design had, he perceived, been stolen.

She paced faster, suspicions tumbling over one another in her mind.

The other sculptor, Karl Minsky, was desperate for the money. He was fiercely proud of his daughter’s artistic talents and wanted the best for her. The only problem was, he couldn’t afford the expensive art school she wanted to attend. If he eliminated some competition, he believed he would win, using Mara’s design. To Chase’s eye, it was a little too abstract to appeal to a general population, but maybe the judges were more modern, artistically, than she was.

All three—Elsa, Winn, and Karl—had engaged in loud arguments with Larry shortly before his death. Or had they? Elsa said Winn argued with the victim, but no one else had mentioned it. Had she lied about that? Detective Olson didn’t seem to know about it. Karl’s daughter talked to Chase about his shouting match, so that one probably happened. And Elsa’s argument? She told Anna about it, so it probably had happened, too. There was no advantage, Chase reasoned, in telling Anna about these altercations, because they could incriminate Elsa.

Neither Mike nor Patrice had ever argued with the man. Had never even met him—she would bet money on that. Why would they be acquainted with a butter sculptor? Mike was merely trying to retrieve the bauble—okay, the valuable jeweled bauble—for his cousin. And she was just being her thieving self. Their timing was very, very bad. And so they were the preferred suspects.

Chase stopped pacing. Say that Elsa had killed her husband. Wouldn’t it be an excellent tactic to wait for the next person to enter the building, then to “find” that person—Mike—with the body?

The butter sculpture tool, the pointed dowel, was most assuredly a weapon of convenience, so the crime had to be one of passion. If someone had planned to kill him, he or she would have arrived with a weapon. Who would be more passionate than Oake’s spouse?

That was another factor in Mike’s favor. How could he kill the man in a fit of passion when he didn’t even know him? The same held true for Patrice, surely.

Her phone rattled in her pocket and she saw Tanner’s number. She hadn’t gotten anything for him yet. She opened the phone and ran into the office.

“Hi, Tanner. I’m working on the product list right now.” Not really a lie. She was opening a document file this very minute to begin typing the descriptions.

“Can I have part of the payment, if this is going to, like, take a long time to finish up?”

That was fair. But she didn’t want to use the shop bank account. “Can you come by to pick up a check?” She would have to use her own account until this was revealed to Anna. At this stage, she probably wouldn’t appreciate the potential.

“This isn’t too late for you?”

It was a little past ten o’clock. Not all that late. Usually she would be lounging in her PJs by now. At least she was still dressed, but only because she hadn’t had time yet to get ready for bed. “Oh no. Not too late at all.”

“Cool. I’ll be right there. I can look at what you’ve done so far.”

Chase groaned after she ended the call. She furiously began typing very bad, short descriptions. Strawberry Cheesecake: cheesecake bar with strawberries. Hula Bars: pineapple, coconut, walnuts. Lemon Bars: lemon-flavored. This wouldn’t do.

The back doorbell rang. She closed the file and hit “Don’t Save” as she exited the screen.

“Hey, Ms. Oliver. Thanks for letting me come by. So, you got my check?”

“Just a sec. I have to run upstairs for my checkbook.”

“I’ll look at your product description file while you do that.”

“Oh. You know what? I was working on it and something happened. I lost everything. Don’t worry, I can redo it.”

He gave her a look that unmistakably let her know he thought she was a moron.

He no sooner left than her cell chirped again. She was delighted to see Mike’s number. “Hey, my favorite doctor,” she said.

“I hope I’m your favorite animal doctor and you have a people doctor you like.” She heard the smile in his voice.

“You’re right. You’re Quincy’s favorite doctor.”

Maybe her saying his name set her cat off. Just after she said it, she heard loud, insistent meowing from her apartment above. She mounted the stairs while she talked. “What’s up?”

“I called to see how you’re holding up. It seems that you and Anna are working awfully hard this week.”

“Ha!” She opened the door to her apartment, sticking a leg in to keep her cat from bolting. “This week is no different. We always work hard. I will say that the hours are longer, though.”

“Did you just get home?”

“No, but we finished baking for tomorrow a few minutes ago. I’ll admit that we do have a better rhythm during normal workweeks. Have you heard anything new about the murder?”

“They’re hardly likely to tell me what they’ve found.”

“So you’re still suspect numero uno?” She stuck a Kitty Patty in the microwave to heat for a few seconds.

“As far as I know, unless Patrice has replaced me. Your Detective Olson questioned her for a long time this afternoon. I’ve just talked with her. She’s not sure whether he’s trying to pin the murder on her or whether he’s trying to get her to say I did it.”

“How could she be a suspect?”

“She’s admitted being in the building. I think anyone who was ever there is on that guy’s list. I heard your microwave ding. Are you about to have dinner?”

“No, that was Quince’s treat.” She set it in his dish and he mrowed as he chomped on the Kitty Patty. She gave him only half of one, since he’d had so much to eat at the fair. She just couldn’t deny him his treat completely.

“Is it too late for me to bring something over?”

“Depends on what it is.”

“Pizza. And something else.”

As soon as he came in the door, he reached his fist out to her, turned it over, and opened his fingers.

“My ring!” Chase cried with a huge grin.

“She knew right away what I was talking about and gave it to me. She says to tell you she’s sorry.”

“Is she?”

Mike shrugged. “That’s hard to tell with my cousin. At any rate, I’ve warned her off taking anything else from you or Anna.”

“She shouldn’t steal anything from anyone!”

He slipped it onto the ring finger on her right hand. His fingers were warm and firm. Chase resisted the urge to reach out and stroke them. She pulled her hand back and dashed to the kitchen to get plates and paper towels so he wouldn’t see her blushing furiously red.

A half hour later, she and Mike had devoured a medium pepperoni with olives and extra cheese and she was curled up on the soft leather couch beside him, wanting to rest her head on his sturdy chest. Quincy sprawled across both their laps, his eyes nearly closed while Mike stroked his head. Mike and Chase had discussed, round and round, who could have killed Larry Oake and why—and when. The “when” was the only thing they’d gotten very far with. It had to have been shortly before Mike entered the building. Unfortunately, he couldn’t recall seeing anyone else there. In fact, he had made sure no one saw him go in, or so he thought. He knew he shouldn’t be inside messing with that sculpture. Elsa Oake either opened the door at exactly the wrong time by coincidence, or she saw him go in and screamed to get attention and frame him.

“You know, Anna has been getting palsy-walsy with Elsa Oake. She refuses to see that she could very well have killed her husband.”

Mike stiffened. “That doesn’t sound like a good idea.”

“That’s what I told her. She’s asked Elsa to move in with her until she can leave town.”

Now Mike sat straight up. Quincy gave a huff of annoyance and jumped off the couch. “That’s a terrible idea! Her house is becoming a hotel. Maybe I should loan her a large dog for protection if she’s going to invite everyone to stay with her. She doesn’t have any pets, does she?”

“No, she says Quincy is enough for her.”

“Since you say she’s the one who sneaks treats to him, it might be better that she doesn’t have any pets.”

“She will have one for a few days. Elsa’s sister is driving here from Wisconsin and bringing Elsa’s pet parrot. Apparently she misses it so much. They can’t very well stay in a regular hotel with it. She’s very attached to that bird, Anna says.”

Mike shook his head. “And Anna’s putting all of them up at her place?”

Chase nodded.

“She doesn’t know Elsa at all, does she?”

“Not really. I tried to tell her that. She’s never even seen the sister yet.”

A few minutes after Mike walked out the door, still grumbling about Anna, Julie called. Chase glanced at her clock as she answered it. She needed to get to bed soon. But she would always make time for her best bud.

“Did I wake you up?” Julie asked, almost in a whisper.

“It’s almost midnight. But no, I’m still up.”

“Jay just left. We had the most dreamy evening.”

Chase was about to say that Mike had just left, too, but Julie continued. “We talked and talked about what I should do. I liked real estate in law school. Jay thinks I should give that a try.”

“Do you know anyone with a practice in that field?” Chase wiggled out of her jeans and sat on the edge of her bed.

“Sure. My school buddies all went into different areas. I think our own class covers the gamut of law practice. I’m going to call up a couple of them tomorrow.”

“Sounds good. Have you talked to Anna today?”

“Briefly. I didn’t quite understand, though. She’s having a parrot stay at her house?”

“She is. The parrot’s owner is staying there, too. And the sister.”

“Why on earth?”

“The parrot’s owner is Elsa Oake, who has been staying at the Crowne Plaza. Anna thinks it’s perfectly fine to put them up. Elsa misses her pet, and since she can’t leave town, her sister wants to come keep her company. She’s driving here tomorrow with the bird. I think. Anyway—”

“Anyway, my grandmother is off her rocker! That woman probably killed her husband.”

“Well, I think that, but Anna doesn’t.” Quincy seemed to have forgiven Chase for interrupting the earlier session with the two cozy laps. He climbed onto Chase’s legs, now stretched out on the bed and clad in flannel.

“The television reporters seem to agree with you. They’re starting to mention both her and Mike. Maybe I’ll see if I can stay there while the suspect is bunking in.”

“Anna doesn’t have room enough for all those people and you, too, does she?”

“She doesn’t have room for them without me, so what’s the difference?”

“Do you know if Jay has gotten anyone to represent Mike yet?” Chase asked.

“No, but I have. We went to school with a little powerhouse of a guy named Gerrold Gustafson. I called him today, and he should be getting in touch with Mike soon. Gerry said there’s nothing for him to do at the moment, though. As soon as they charge Mike, he’ll go into action.”

“‘As soon as they charge’ him?”

“Oh. Yes. I mean if they charge him.” There was a moment of silence on both ends of the conversation.

Chase contemplated what Julie had said and it gave her a chill inside. “You know, they only questioned him and released him.”

“Let’s face it, Chase. If you listen to the local news reports, it sounds like the cops think either Elsa Oake or Dr. Ramos did it.”

“I’m not listening to the local news right now.”

“Good idea.”

They must not know about Patrice Youngren yet, Chase thought.

Chase had a restless night, worrying about Anna and her insistence on consorting with a murder suspect. She would try to talk her out of it tomorrow at the fair. For all the good that would do. Anna’s stubbornness was almost a force of nature.

* * *

When Chase arrived at the Bar None booth, Elsa and her sister were there with Anna. The parrot didn’t seem to be around. Chase saw the two women from the back and couldn’t tell them apart. One wore a russet broomstick skirt, the other a bright blue one. As she came closer, they turned around and she still couldn’t tell which one was which.

“Hi . . . Elsa,” she said, looking from one to the other.

They both laughed. The one in the rust-colored broom skirt stepped forward. “Chase, this is my sister, Eleanor.”

“Your identical twin sister?” Chase asked, shaking Eleanor’s hand.

They both shook their heads. Eleanor spoke. “They say we’re not identical, but many people disagree with that.”

Chase moved behind the counter to stow her purse. She studied the two women. “I’ll have to agree with the many people. I don’t think I could tell you apart.”

“We have different allergies,” said Elsa.

“I don’t really have allergies, Elsie,” said the one in the blue skirt.

“Oh, you don’t have allergies. You just sneeze at every other thing, Ellie.”

Elsie and Ellie! This is going to be confusing, thought Chase. She decided she would call them Elsa and Eleanor. Maybe she wouldn’t have to call them anything if she never saw them again.

“Bye, Anna,” said Elsa. “We’re going to go see Grey.”

Both women swished away, their skirts swirling around their cowgirl boots.

Chase gave Anna a blank look. “Who’s Grey?”

“That’s the parrot. She’s a sweetheart. Her name is Lady Jane Grey, but Elsa and Eleanor call her Grey.”

“She’s alone in your house? Is she in a cage?”

“No, she’s with Dr. Ramos. She was at the house last night.”

“He’s going to have to start charging boarding fees, poor guy. Everyone is dumping their pets on him.”

“Only you and Elsa, right?”

“And a black cat that is usually there.”

The weather was much colder and there didn’t seem to be nearly as many people at the fair today. Maybe Wednesday was Hump Day here, just like in an office—and at the Bar None store. The plug-in heater made the booth toasty, but even that didn’t draw people in as it had before. The people simply weren’t there to be drawn in.

After an hour of meager sales, Chase’s cell rang. It was in her purse under the table. She dove for it and fished it out as it quit ringing.

“Who was it?” asked Anna.

“Inger. I’ll call her back.” But Chase didn’t get an answer when she tried and Inger hadn’t left a message. She worried about her friend for the rest of the morning.

At lunchtime, Bill Shandy, Anna’s recent fiancé, strolled up the aisle and turned in to the Bar None.

“How’s my favorite baker?”

Anna answered with a brilliant smile and a hug. Bill was a few inches taller than Anna, which, given Anna’s small stature, put him only at medium height. His curly gray hair was a match in color for Anna’s, but a patch was missing at his crown. His bushy mustache made up for the baldness on top. Chase liked Bill. It occurred to her that she should appeal to him for help getting Anna away from Elsa and her coterie.

“Do you want to see the parrot?” Anna asked Bill. She said to Chase, “I told him about Lady Jane Grey, and he said he’d like to see her.”

Bill owned a pet store near their Dinktytown treat shop. His family had gone through an ordeal recently, and Chase thought Bill had handled his wacky relatives with infinite patience and grace. He and Anna had become closer during that time, and Chase was glad they had each other. Anna hadn’t shown any interest in a man since her beloved husband had passed away several years ago. Chase loved to see the romance blossoming between them.

“Go ahead,” Chase said. “I’ll be fine here if you both want to head over to the vet clinic.”

“I think I want to meet the parrot’s owner as much as I want to meet the parrot,” Bill said.

If Anna hadn’t been there, that would have been the perfect entrance for Chase to bring up the subject of Elsa. She put out a feeler, which was all she could do.

“Do you know that they’re all staying at Anna’s? Elsa, the parrot, and Elsa’s twin sister?”

“Yes, she told me, but I haven’t had a chance to meet any of them.”

“Elsa is the one whose husband was murdered here,” Chase added.

“Poor woman.” Bill shook his head in sympathy.

When Chase frowned slightly at that, he raised his eyebrows in question.

“I don’t know how poor she is. The insurance settlement should be hefty.”

“Charity!” Anna finally joined in. “That’s no way to talk. Bill, Charity thinks Elsa might have been the one who killed Larry Oake.” She took off her Bar None smock, crammed it under the table, donned her parka, and headed for the midway.

“I’m not the only one who thinks that way,” Chase said. “The police have told Elsa not to leave town.”

Anna kept going. Bill looked back at Chase long enough for her to mouth the words “call me” and then followed Anna.