Fat Cat Spreads Out (10 page)

Chase took a seat on the other folding chair. It creaked
as she plopped down. “Anna, she's his widow, but she's also a suspect for his murder.”

“She couldn't possibly have done it, Charity.”

“Why not?”

“She walked in after he was dead.”

“Maybe she did that after she killed him. You just said he was planning on leaving her high and dry.”

Anna nodded. “More than just thinking. He rented a studio in Costa Rica.”

“Yikes! I thought she said Madison.”

“That's what he told her, but he was lying. A bill for the rent came to their house. Her sister is taking in the mail and called her, so she just found that out. She wasn't sad that he was leaving, since they hadn't been getting along. But she was so mad she was seeing red that he hadn't told her any of his plans. Elsa says she would have willingly given him a divorce.”

“You know that a lot of murders happen on the spur of the moment.”

“Yes, I know. Crimes of passion. But Elsa doesn't seem like a person who would fly off the handle.”

“How long have you known her? Three days?”

“Four, I think.”

“Do you think you should hang out with her?”

A half-dozen customers wandered in. Chase quickly finished her Lemon Bar, dusted the powdered sugar off her fingers, and got busy working alongside Anna.

That evening, while Anna and Elsa were chatting and baking in the kitchen below Chase's apartment, she tried to brainstorm some costumes for Quincy. She wasn't
coming up with much, so she went down to the kitchen. Three heads would be better than one. And if Anna could fraternize with a murder suspect, so could she. Besides, if Elsa
was
a murderer, it wasn't good for Anna to be alone with her.

As the three women assembled dough and layered the sweet treats together, putting baking pans into the oven and pulling them out like an assembly line, Chase tried to learn more about the woman. Elsa wore cowgirl boots again—red ones tonight—and a long, black skirt. Her arms were flecked with flour and powdered sugar.

“Do you know when you're going back to Wisconsin?” Chase asked.

Elsa knitted her brows in distress. “No, I'm not allowed to leave right now. My sister is on her way tomorrow to keep me company.”

“That's good,” Anna said, sticking a bowl of sugar and butter under the mixer to cream. “Are you close to her?”

“We're twins, only sixteen minutes apart. She's bringing my birdie. I miss her so much.”

“What kind of bird?” Anna asked.

“She's a parrot, an African grey. I'll be so happy to see her. I'm just not sure the hotel will be pleased about it.”

“Would you like to stay at my place? I wouldn't mind having her. What's her name?”

Chase stared, wide-eyed. Anna was offering her home to a murder suspect, and her family, plus her pet. She shook her head behind Elsa's back, but Anna pointedly ignored her.

“You and your sister are both welcome. It's costing a fortune for the hotel, isn't it?”

“That won't be a problem. Larry left me well provided for. He had a huge insurance policy. I'll be more than fine when that comes through.”

Another motive, thought Chase. She never did get around to mentioning cat costumes.

T
he 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
mrow
ed 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.