Fat Cat Takes The Cake

NINE

Chase thought, on the surface, that Julie’s theory was far-fetched. She had asked her what on earth Ron North would be blackmailing her about. But when Julie pointed out that he was working on the real estate swindle story, Chase began to change her mind. Maybe he was trying to blackmail everyone involved in that. Eventually, he would have realized that Julie wasn’t part of any swindle. So much for the real estate case distracting Julie from being a murder suspect.

Ron probably had a chance at shaking down whoever had offered the money to Hilda Bjorn. And that might be Mr. Snelson, since he was getting into the real estate business and there were what looked like dollar amounts next to his code name. If PRINCE was his code name. That would mean that Hilda Bjorn’s Vance Nelson actually was Van Snelson. There were amounts written in for the person called PHOTO, too. Maybe Mr. Snelson had a partner in crime who was already certified to handle real estate.

If BIRD was Dickie Byrd, Ron North hadn’t been successful at getting any money out of him. Chase leafed through Ron’s story notes to find anything that might pertain to wrongdoing on the part of Dickie. It looked like Ron had started to interview the principal for an article on the school board. He seemed to suspect there were some shady activities going on there. The notes went on to mention the real estate scams. There were also notes about historical swindles, maybe to fill out his intended article.

Dickie Byrd didn’t figure in those pages. However, Dickie was an easy target even if he hadn’t taken part in the scams. If he was always this careless about kissing women other than his wife in public, Ron could easily try to blackmail him about his indiscretions.

Chase devoutly hoped the police could figure out Ron’s code. His notes flitted from one thing to another so that she didn’t know how he had planned to write anything coherent from them. She also wished, even more devoutly, that J would end up standing for someone other than Julie.

Before they had hung up, Chase had described to Julie the person she and Eddie had seen at lunch, drunk. Julie remembered him from the reunion, but had no idea who he was. Was he PHOTO?

She couldn’t sleep with all of this rattling around inside her head, so she padded down to the office, leaving Quincy snoring softly on her bed.

Ron’s notebook mentioned the school board, and Dickie was on it. Maybe the scandal that got him killed wasn’t real estate, but something to do with the school board. She looked up the local school board and there was Dickie Byrd’s picture, the same one he was using on his campaign posters. Another member stood out to her. It was the man with the vest, the short, dumpy drunk she’d seen at lunch.

His name was Langton Hail and, upon further investigation, she found he was a real estate developer. He had built hotel complexes in several major cities.

It took her a long time to fall asleep with the associations and cross-associations whirling in her poor, tired brain.

• • •

Chase was glad she would be working in the shop today to take her mind off Ron North’s murder and everything else related to it.

Since the shop was fairly busy, she worked the counter beside Mallory, the new hire. About midmorning, it dawned on Chase what bothered her about Mallory. The woman, little more than a girl, rarely smiled. She knew this was her first job out of high school, but her résumé had listed an impressive number of retail places she had worked during the summers. Shortly before lunchtime there was a lull, one of those rare times without a single person in the shop.

“Mallory,” Chase began, then wondered how to continue. She paused, then forged ahead. “I need to tell you something very important about selling things to people.”

Mallory drew in her breath, her eyes wide with worry. “What am I doing wrong? Did I miscount the change?”

Chase gave her what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “No, nothing like that.” It suddenly occurred to her that the reason Mallory’s list of jobs was so long could be that she got fired from all of them. “You’re doing fine, really. But, well, I’m sure you’ve heard that first impressions are important. Right?”

Mallory nodded, but the worry remained etched on her face. She sucked on her bottom lip and hunched her thin shoulders.

“Relax, dear. I’m going to tell you a secret. There’s only one thing you need to do to improve what you’re already doing. It’s a tiny thing, but it makes a huge first impression. When you first interact with a customer, you smile. That’s it. The customer is at ease, so you’re more at ease. Things will go smoothly if they feel comfortable with you from the start.”

Mallory nodded, her posture and her face losing some of the tension.

Just then, the tension in the shop kicked up one hundred percent. Grace Pilsen, Anna’s old baking rival, strode into the Bar None, throwing the door open so violently that the usually soft bell jangled loudly. She looked fierce, but that was her normal expression, Chase thought. She’d never seen the woman without an angry scowl on her face.

Confronted with this new, terrifying customer, Mallory reassumed her worried expression. Chase couldn’t blame her for not trying out the smile technique with this woman.

“Ms. Pilsen,” Chase said, also not smiling. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

“I need to speak to Anna.” She ended her sentence with an unattractive sneer. The white skunk streak in her suspiciously black hair always made Chase think of Cruella De Vil, the villain in the One Hundred and One Dalmatians Disney movie. A shorter, plumper version. The woman obviously ate a lot of what she baked at The Pilsener.

Anna had heard her snarling voice, which was rather loud, and came barging through the double doors almost as violently as Grace had entered the shop. The doors whomped as they swung back and forth a few times in Anna’s wake.

“What do you want here?” Anna asked.

“I’m trying to keep you from being disqualified.”

Anna drew herself up to her full height, which wasn’t much more than Grace’s. Both women measured about five feet tall.

They faced off in front of the sales counter, the lights of the display case below acting as spotlights on the action. Mallory and Chase watched in fascinated silence.

“I’ll have you know,” Anna said, “that I’m officially entered and have turned in my recipe. My paperwork is all in order.”

“Except for this.” Grace extracted a piece of paper from the briefcase she carried and waved it toward Anna, who came forward and grabbed it.

“This is my application. I turned this in long ago. My acceptance was based on this.”

“Look at the bottom.” Grace’s sneer grew uglier. “You neglected to sign your full name.”

Anna glanced at the sheet. “I . . . what?” She put her finger on the signature that even Chase could see from behind the counter.

“What kind of a signature is A. A. Larson?”

“It’s my legal signature. I use it on everything.”

“That’s right,” Chase put in. “She does.”

Grace shot Chase a withering look, her upper lip curling like Elvis’s. “That could mean a lot of different people. What with all the Alvas and Anderses and Arvas around here.”

“Grace,” Anna said. “Go home. That’s my signature and anyone can compare it to hundreds of other things I’ve signed. Get out of my shop.”

Grace drew air in through her dilated nostrils, stuffed the paper inside her briefcase, and left, torturing the bell again on her way out.

“Doesn’t she have anything better to do than harass people?” Anna muttered as she returned to the kitchen.

The shop started to fill with shoppers, so Chase stayed on in front. She looked up as she was sliding some bars from the display case into a bag and saw Tanner, the kid who handled the web presence for Bar None, standing behind her customer. When the woman gathered her purchases and left, Tanner moved to the counter. This time the lights in the display case winked on his nose ring.

Mallory gave Tanner a huge grin and welcomed him to the shop. “Can I help you?”

She was learning, thought Chase, although maybe now she was being overly enthusiastic.

Tanner smiled back at Mallory, but spoke to Chase. “I came by to see what’s going on with the webpage. Something’s wrong with it.”

“Oh dear. Is it something you can’t fix?” Chase said.

“Not from my end. Can I look at your setup?”

“I’ll show you,” Mallory said. She abruptly slid out from behind the counter and beckoned Tanner into the kitchen.

What was that about? Chase wondered. Of course, Mallory knew where the computer was, in the office off the kitchen. But she wouldn’t know where to find anything on it. She called after them. “Let me know if you need help!” Then she continued whittling down the line of buyers before her, all with their arms full of her wares.

When Mallory emerged a few minutes later, she told Chase that Tanner was trying a few things to fix the website. Chase did a double take at the pink glow on her cheeks. It seemed that Mallory was smitten. She smiled at the thought and kept working.

Tanner reappeared in the salesroom in under ten minutes. “That cat must have unplugged the router. If it’s okay with you, I want to look up something. Then I’ll be off.”

“Wait a sec,” Chase said. “I’ll go with you.”

She should make sure Quincy was still in the office, since she had neglected to mention him to the pair when they headed that way. But she had another idea, too.