Fat Cat Spreads Out

TWENTY-THREE

Quincy and Mike were both on Chase’s mind all morning as she made herself smile at a steady stream of cold customers coming into the heated booth to warm up and to satisfy the sweet tooth so many people at the fair had. She hoped her cat was in the cage and not wandering around loose. She should have warned Dr. Drood about how easily Quincy escaped from wherever he was. She should have mentioned, even more so, that Quincy and Grey were a lethal combination, probably able to unlatch each other’s cages.

Chase had told Anna what little she knew of Mike’s arrest. Anna said Julie and Jay were coming to the fair today, so Chase held off on calling Julie.

She felt her cell phone buzzing in her pocket every half hour. After checking the first two calls and seeing Tanner’s number, she ignored the rest. He had called early, before she left, asking for more data and another payment. She had grabbed her good camera and, during the morning, had succeeded in photographing all the dessert bar varieties she and Anna were selling at the fair. This was by no means their entire list, but it would be a start. Maybe they wouldn’t have to picture every single one, just the prettiest, and could list the rest.

Chase had definitely decided not to sell on the Internet, so the website would just be to entice people to the store. Bar None was not set up for remote merchandising or shipping, and it would take a lot of work to get to that point, if they ever did.

After the first two pictures Chase snapped, Anna asked her what she was doing.

“They’re so pretty, aren’t they? I just want to get pictures of all of them.” Chase stepped to the next batch on the table and took another shot. They weren’t nicely displayed in a glass case, like in the shop, but Chase was taking close-ups of the samples that were set out on paper plates to give the customers an idea of what they were selling. On reviewing her photographs, she thought they looked pretty good.

Julie and Jay showed up midmorning.

“Need a hand?” Julie asked.

“We sure do,” Anna said. “Can you give out samples like you did the last time? I think that helps business.”

Jay looked around at the booth, which was packed with people waiting to buy. “Looks like business doesn’t need that much help. Maybe we can take over and give you two a break.”

Anna’s eyes twinkled with her bright smile. Chase hadn’t seen her smile up to her eyes all morning. “That would be wonderful. You’d better hang on to this young man, Julie.”

“Do you know anything about Mike?” Chase asked, breaking into the conversation.

“Did something happen?” Julie said.

“They’ve arrested him.”

“Oh no. No, I didn’t know.” Julie turned to Jay. “Have you heard from Gerrold?”

“I’ll text him right now.” Jay punched a message into his phone. “I’ll let you know as soon as I hear something back.”

Jay declined Anna’s offer of a smock, but Julie donned one, and Chase and Anna left them in charge. Julie had worked the store often, so the booth was in good hands.

“Chase, why on earth did you take pictures of every single dessert bar?”

“Not every single one, just one picture of each kind.”

Anna puffed with exasperation. “All right. Why did you take pictures of every single kind? There’s something you’re not telling me.”

“So, ‘just because they’re so pretty’ isn’t good enough?”

“No, it’s not.”

They had headed toward the food court, which was also the direction of the vet clinic. As they reached the coffee vendor, Chase said, “Why don’t you relax here with some coffee, and I’ll go check on Quincy?”

Anna grabbed Chase’s arm. “Why don’t you stand still and answer my question?”

Chase was reminded of being twelve years old and being raked over the coals for not having cleaned up her room when she had told Anna it was fine. She always knew she was going to have to tell Anna about the webpage eventually. It seemed that “eventually” might be here. Unless she could stall a little more.

“Yes, there is something I’m not telling you. When the time is right, you’ll know everything, I promise. It’s a surprise and it’s not ready yet.”

Anna frowned. “Am I going to like this surprise?”

“You’ll love it.” Chase crossed her fingers behind her back. If Tanner did a good enough job, she would. Chase hoped all of Anna’s objections would vanish and she would be wowed by the site. She couldn’t let her see the current, mostly empty, one with placeholders and no substance. If they hadn’t been at the fair this week, getting the pictures to Tanner and using her evenings to type up cute, clever product descriptions would have been easier to work in.

“I’d better go see if Quincy is surviving that awful man.”

Anna gave her a doubtful look and got in line at the Coffee Caravan trailer. “Should I get something for you?”

She usually got a plain, strong cup of coffee, but she felt like having a cup of comfort today. “How about a white chocolate mocha? With whipped cream.”

Chase hurried away toward the big building. However, before she got there, she met Patrice, on her way to the food court.

“Chase, did you hear about Mike?” She looked very much like Betsy, her mother, when worry creased her face like that.

“I don’t know much, just that he was arrested.”

“It’s my fault.” She was in her Madame Divine outfit, and she twisted the folds of her robe with restless fingers. “I’m the one who told them.”

“Your fault he was arrested? Who did you tell what?”

“I told that detective why he was in the butter building. I thought it would help.”

“What exactly did you say?”

“I said that I took the diamond collar and that I hid it in the butter and that I asked my cousin to get it back for me so I could return it to the display and that he said he would. And that’s what got him hauled in in the first place.” Her whole body shook almost imperceptibly.

Chase wasn’t sure why that information would get him arrested for murder. She would have to talk to “that detective” and see what was going on. Or maybe Jay could find out from Gerrold Gustafson, the lawyer friend who was working for Mike.

“Maybe it’s not your fault,” Chase said, trying to calm Patrice.

“It is! It’s my fault, and now Mike will hate me forever.”

Chase fished a tissue out of her pocket and handed it to the poor fortune-teller. Too bad she couldn’t really tell fortunes, or at least predict the consequences of her own actions.

“You know Jay and Julie got him a good lawyer. I’m sure he’ll be released soon.” Chase patted Patrice’s trembling shoulder and hoped she was right.

“You think he will?”

Chase nodded. “I’ll bet he’ll be out today.” She crossed her fingers behind her back again, looking down to make sure her nose wasn’t growing a foot.

Patrice went on her way and Chase continued to the vet clinic.

As she entered the outer office, she heard pandemonium coming from the clinic.

“Wild cat here! Everyone watch out, I’ve got a wild cat here!” It was Dr. Drood’s querulous voice.

Chase dashed into the clinic, making sure nothing got through the door. “What’s going on?”

Dr. Drood held Quincy one-handed, under his belly, just outside the cage. Quincy’s tail was puffed up like a squirrel’s, his ears were back, and all his claws were out. In one more second, he would claw Dr. Drood’s arm.

“What on earth are you doing?” Chase ran to them and snatched Quincy away, supporting his back feet, holding him the way one is supposed to hold a cat. The way a veterinarian should know how to.

“Careful, that’s a wild cat,” Dr. Drood snapped. “There are other people in here.”

“He is my cat. You’re scaring him out of his wits. Do not yell like that around someone’s pet.” Who had he been yelling to, anyway?

Chase looked around and saw that the twins were in the room, opening the door to Lady Jane Grey’s cage. The bird hopped onto Elsa’s shoulder, shrieking, “Wild cat, wild cat, wild cat,” in perfect imitation of Dr. Drood’s elderly, shaky voice.

“Why did you call Quincy a ‘wild cat’?” she asked. “He’s a pet.”

“You said he was a rescued feral.”

“Rescued. Not wild.” Chase shook her head. She looked around for the plastic bag she had left with his treats. “Please give me the bag I left with you.”

The rude man pointed to a paper bag with a grunt.

It wasn’t the plastic baggie she had left. “What’s that?” She opened it. It was full of birdseed.

“There it is,” Elsa said. “We were looking for Grey’s food.”

“What’s this mess at the bottom of her cage?” Eleanor asked, poking a finger into something that resembled roadkill, Chase thought.

An empty plastic bag lay next to the bird’s cage. Some smears of grease remained, but the Kitty Patty was gone. It was now, Chase was horrified to see, the mess at the bottom of Grey’s cage. From the looks of the claw marks, she had trod on it.

“What in the world?” Chase looked inside Quincy’s large cage and saw a pile of birdseed in the corner. “You gave them the wrong treats?”

“What’s the problem?” A deep voice sounded at the door. Chase looked to see Dr. Michael Ramos striding toward them, frowning. She grinned.

“Look what he did,” Elsa shrieked, pointing to Grey’s cage. “He gave Lady Jane Grey the cat’s treat.”

“Look what he did,” the parrot repeated a few times.

Chase pointed to the birdseed in Quincy’s cage.

Mike stared at Dr. Drood, his mouth partway open. “You gave birdseed to a cat?” He shook his head. “And meat to a parrot?”

“Those are the treats their owners left for them.” Dr. Drood’s voice was even shakier. At least he wasn’t yelling anymore.

Chase could see Mike composing himself. He must have counted to ten, because he spoke ten seconds later. “Dr. Drood, you may leave now.”

“When do I get paid?”

“Leave your address with Betsy. We’ll mail you a check.”

“I want to get paid for the whole day. I was contracted for the whole day.”

Mike stepped forward and put his face in the old man’s. “You may leave. Now.”

Dr. Drood gave angry looks to all the women and stalked out the door, slamming it, of course.

Quincy flinched in Chase’s arms, but as soon as Dr. Drood disappeared, he started purring.

“I’m glad he’s gone, too,” Chase said, nuzzling her face in his fur. “But, hey, I’m glad you’re here, Dr. Ramos!” She thought she should be formal and use his title, since the twins were present.

Mike chuckled. “Not nearly as glad as I am. I have to hand it to the lawyer your friends sent. He got me out as soon as humanly possible.”

Mike busied himself scraping the squashed meat patty from the bottom of the birdcage. Chase took his cue and scooped the birdseed out of Quincy’s place. She scattered it on the metal counter and Grey hopped to it and gobbled it up. Quincy’s Kitty Patty didn’t look edible, but Mike put it on a paper towel and Quincy licked it up as if it were a fresh steak.

“No harm done, I guess,” Elsa said, watching the two animals eat their correct, respective snacks.

“But what if you hadn’t gotten here today, Dr. Ramos?” Eleanor said. “That man was a menace.”

“Where did you say you got his name?” Chase asked, knowing full well he hadn’t said anything like that to them.

“I’ll talk to my friend tonight and see if we can get his credentials pulled. He’s too old and confused to be practicing animal medicine.”

“If he weren’t so cranky, I’d feel sorry for him,” Chase said.

“I’ll make sure someone talks to him,” Mike said.

The twins secured Grey in her cage and left, thanking Dr. Ramos for showing up when he did.

“Did you have to pay bail?” Chase asked. She hadn’t wanted to say too much about the murder in front of the widow.

“That’s the best part. They brought me in for lying about why I went into the building. But Gerrold convinced them they couldn’t hold me because of that—too flimsy. So no bail. They have a print from the weapon, but it’s taking time to process it. They took my prints before I left.”

Chase would like to have heard that all charges were dropped. That was too much to hope for.

* * *

All four of them—Chase, Anna, Julie, and Jay—were working the crowded booth. Since the fair ended tomorrow, people seemed desperate to get the sweet treats today. Tomorrow, after all, the final big contests would be held.

Daisy came by the booth midafternoon to say hi to her nephew Jay. She picked up two Toffee Bars for herself. While Julie was wrapping her purchase and putting it in a Bar None bag, Anna asked her if she had been fingerprinted.

“Oh yes. They did a thorough job.” She nodded her approval.

“Did they do the other sculptors?” Chase asked.

“Definitely. I think they did them first.” She bobbed her head again. “Thanks for these delights.” She waved her bag in the air as she left.

Tanner sent three more texts that afternoon.

Chase and Anna, helped by Inger, baked some more bars that night.

“How did we ever think we had enough stockpiled before the fair started?” Anna asked, taking out the last batch of Pink Lemonade Bars.

They had underestimated how many they would sell by several dozen, but they weren’t complaining.

The cat was back home after another long day at the fair. His owner fed him but skipped her own dinner to sit at the computer in the office. She also skipped a petting session. He tried to jump into her lap twice but was shooed off. He snaked between her legs, but it had no effect. They were both unhappy with each other.

When Chase got to the office, she was determined to finish up the data for Tanner. She pored over the screen, coming up with dessert bar descriptions for the rest of the products that surprised her. For some reason, she was in the groove. Glowing imagery rolled from her fingertips.

Pink Lemonade Bars: Bring yourself a taste of a lazy summer day, lolling in a hammock.

Much better than “You’ve never tasted better Lemon Bars.”

Oatmeal Raspberry Jam Bars: Gooey goodness that will bring back warm memories on winter days.

Peanut Butter Fudge Bars: Go ahead, be a kid again.

That was better than the one she’d sent him.

She liked the Harvest Bar description she had done before: Imagine a crisp fall day, just before the frost is on the pumpkin.

She kept that one and several others. She sat back and admired her work. The descriptions were good. At least, she liked them.

She finally sent the file to Tanner shortly before one AM, telling him she would have the rest of the pictures by midweek, when the shop was back to normal. Since they would be closed Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday, he would get them on Wednesday, but she didn’t say that. He replied immediately that he would look at her file.

As she was brushing her teeth, her cell phone chirped. Quickly rinsing her mouth, she saw it was a text from Mike. At this hour! No doubt he hadn’t called because he didn’t think she would be up. It seemed no one was sleeping that night. The gist of the text was that Jay had checked Dr. Drood’s credentials and phoned Mike just now to say there were none. The poor old vet had let everything lapse. Mike had let his vet friend know.

Chase wondered if Mike would pay the doctor anything. Knowing him, she thought he might.

Just before turning out her bedside lamp, Tanner texted again asking for payment. They didn’t have a formal agreement, and the amount seemed steep. Granted, he had put in a lot of time and was doing excellent work. Her checking account might not stretch that far, though, and she didn’t want to sneak a payment past Anna. She would have to spill it all to Anna very soon. Maybe tomorrow night, after the fair, when she could show her the homepage screen. If Tanner had added some of her new data, that would help.

She had to put him off one more day.

* * *

Sunday morning, Inger rode to the fair with Chase. She wanted to see the Fancy Cat Contest. She chattered nonstop on the way, clearly in a good mood, and told Chase she would hang out until then, watching other competitions and seeing the booths. Chase made sure she had money to buy lunch and some snacks.

“Be sure you’re drinking enough,” Chase said, vaguely remembering that pregnant women needed to drink a lot of liquids. She had no idea why that should be so, but Inger wasn’t doing much else to actively benefit the baby. True, she wasn’t drinking alcohol or smoking, but pregnant women did all sorts of special, weird things. At least Inger had a heavy, lined, woolen coat.

Tanner sent three more texts on the way in. She muted her phone.

The two women parted ways at the midway, and Chase hurried to the big building to drop Quincy off. Patrice, already in her Madame Divine getup, was leaving the vet’s place in tears. The fortune-teller shoved past Chase and rushed down the hallway, so Chase didn’t even get a chance to offer any sympathy.

Once inside the back room, she asked Mike if his cousin was okay.

“She’s still being chewed out by Viktor.”

“Her grandfather?” She had been so impressed by his imperious demeanor. An elegant gentleman. But maybe one who held on to his anger?

“Yes, Viktor can be a harsh man sometimes. He’s still upset she didn’t tell him she was a suspect. He’s also incredibly angry that she’s stealing again after she went for such a long period without doing it. It’s bad for his health.”

“Why is he so angry about that? Is he overly upset about things because of his cancer treatment?”

“No, that’s not it at all. He’s spent a lot of money on counseling for Patrice, to cure her of her addiction to stealing things. He even sent her to San Francisco to see a renowned hypnotherapist. The man claimed he could cure anyone of anything. It cost a lot of money. And, until now, we all thought it had worked.”

Oh yes, that made sense. He loved his granddaughter and had put a lot of effort into helping her. “How much is the cat collar worth?”

“I don’t know, but it’s a lot.”

If Patrice had it, Chase would think she would give it back to get her poor grandfather off her back. “It’s too bad no one has found it.”

“The police have searched almost every inch of this fairground. If it were here, I think it wouldn’t still be missing.”

“Do you think someone has sold it?”

Mike shrugged. “Doesn’t matter what I think. I sure wish someone could find it, though, to keep peace in my family.”

Chase wished someone would find it—or turn it in—to get Mike off the hook for murder. She was still sure the two crimes were connected.

She noticed that several cages had cats in them today, besides the black one that was usually there. “Are all these cats being held here for the contest?”

Mike nodded. There was a gigantic Maine Coon, a pair of Siamese in the same cage, and another glossy black cat, this one with a white-tipped tail and four white boots.

“Are their costumes here?”

Mike grinned. “You want a peek at the competition, don’t you? No, they didn’t leave them here.”

Oh well, she had tried. “I’ll be back around one to get Quincy into his costume.”

“You finally decided on a costume? What’s he going to be? Puss in Boots?”

Chase gave him what she hoped was a sly grin. “It’s a good one, but I’m not telling. You’ll have to wait and see.”

She stepped inside the exhibit hall on her way out of the building. A Fancy Dog Contest was about to start. She looked around for Inger, but didn’t see her there. Nervous dog owners clustered about with their charges. Some were adorable, others bizarre. A bulldog wore an eyepatch and a tricornered hat with a tiny parrot perched on the brim, a darling pirate. A dachshund wore a brown sweater with bristling triangles on his back—some sort of dinosaur, Chase thought. The poodle ballerina and the Scottie peacock were awfully cute. How would a judge decide who to give the prizes to? They were all so well done.

She hoped the cat competition wouldn’t be this fierce.

On her way back to the Bar None booth, she stopped at one of the food trailers for a cup of strong coffee. The large heat lamps felt good on her head and shoulders as she waited in line there. She had slept poorly, worrying about Inger and her baby and about Michael Ramos and the evidence against him. Now she was beginning to feel that a nap would be nice. Too bad she couldn’t take one today. Maybe strong coffee would keep her awake. She still had the remnants of her intermittent headache, and the caffeine might help with that, too.

The door to the butter building was, as always, closed to keep the refrigerated air inside. She opened it and went inside to see if she could get any last-minute info from the artists. Right away, she noticed the smell of the straw that covered the floor. She hadn’t been especially aware of it before, but since Elsa had declared herself allergic to it, she couldn’t help but notice. The straw may have also harbored an aroma of all the stale butter that had been dropped into it.

She strolled past the completed sculptures. The judging would be at eleven, in a little over two hours.

The one carved by the Minskys hadn’t improved, in Chase’s opinion. It was still an abstract mess. She did notice one on the other side of the room that was also an abstract, but much more attractive. There were no recognizable objects in the Minsky sculpture, but the other one, as Chase neared, proved to contain a number of Minnesota symbols. A stylized gopher held a North Star, and ripples, here and there, probably represented the lakes. There might have been a pair of ox horns and an axe to indicate Paul Bunyan and his companion.

The woman who had done the North Star had done a spectacular job, and the gopher Chase had noticed on the first day was almost lifelike. Other pieces represented the state’s teams, the Vikings and the Twins. The only artist present was the woman who had done the huge star.

Chase approached her and complimented her work. “I would never think a five-pointed star could look so good,” she said. It held a map of the Mississippi, beginning with Lake Itasca at the top left, tumbling past St. Paul and Minneapolis in the center, and flowing on to form the Iowa-Wisconsin border near the bottom right. The river was carved deep into the butter, making a path through the star that was edged with figures of birds, ducks, and geese. Little clusters of buildings jutted up, indicating some of the towns.

“Thank you,” the woman said. She was short and plump, with curly brown hair and twinkling eyes. “I’ve been working on this design for nearly a year.”

“It shows. What do you think your chances of winning are, now that Larry Oake isn’t competing?”

Chase watched her reaction closely. She looked genuinely distressed.

“Oh, isn’t that horrible? I still can’t believe what happened. Right here in this room. I don’t know who will win, but Larry should have. I wouldn’t mind if they awarded the prize money to his family.”

She didn’t seem a likely suspect. She had so hoped to find a really good one here. Someone who was obviously the killer. How disappointing.