Fat Cat At Large (A Fat Cat Mystery) (17 page)

BOOK: Fat Cat At Large (A Fat Cat Mystery)
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Doris took off her raincoat, handed it to Chase, and sank into the chair. There were hooks inside the back door, so Chase shook out the raincoat and ran to hang it there. She didn’t want Doris messing with her computer or looking through her desk, but when Chase ran back, Doris was sitting motionless, hunched over with her hands between her knees. She looked frightened.

When a long minute passed without Doris speaking, Chase said, “Is there something I can help you with?”

The look Doris gave her was tragic. “Yes. No. How could you? I don’t know.” She shook her head and a few drops of rainwater flew to the floor. Her dyed blonde hair, usually stiffly sprayed, was soaked and hung in limp, dripping hanks. “They’re all dead. I don’t know what’s going on.”

“You mean . . . Gabe?”

“And Torvald. They’re both dead. I don’t understand it. Could it be my fault?”

“Your fault?” Had she killed both of them? “Why do you think that?”

“I quarreled with Gabe. Violently. Then he died the same day.”

“You quarreled with Torvald, too?”

“Yes.” The word was almost a cry. “It was just a fling, he said. Then he . . . insulted me. Then he was dead.”

The wind picked up outside and flung rain against the back windows. Was everyone in Dinkytown having affairs?

Doris started coughing and Chase ran to get her a glass of water. Doris sipped it and that seemed to help her spasms.

“How would quarreling with them make you think you killed them?” Chase asked. “Did you, well, did you attack them? With knives?”

“No!” She looked at Chase with horror. “No, not me. But maybe . . .”

“Maybe who?”

Doris shook her head slowly enough that no more raindrops flew from her hair. “Ted. Ted knew I’d fought with Gabe. He saw me leave and even told me he’d hidden my jacket so the police wouldn’t think I murdered him.”

Chase had wondered if Ted had told his mother about that.

“And Torvald?”

“Ted may have known about that fight, too.”

“Did Torvald attack you? Throw anything at you?”

“No, nothing like that. But I think Ted saw me leave his car.”

“So you think that Ted . . . killed them?”

“No, not Ted! Well, maybe. Do you think he did?”

“Why are you telling me this? Shouldn’t you talk to the police?”

“You seem to have the ear of the handsome detective. Can you find out if anyone knows anything about where Ted was when they were both murdered?”

“Mrs. Naughtly, have you talked to your son about this?”

Of course, if her son were a murderer, voicing her suspicions might seal his fate. Chase changed tactics.

“It would be better for you to talk to the police yourself. Lay out everything you know. Let them gather the evidence and find out what’s going on.”

Doris didn’t answer. She took another sip of water. Her hands seemed steadier now. The storm outside had subsided and reverted back to being the gentle rain it had been for the past several hours of the evening.

“Don’t you think that’s best?” Chase urged.

“I can’t throw suspicion onto my own son.”

That would be one consideration, Chase thought. The other would be that, if her own son were out murdering people, it would be good to get him stopped.

“So you’re afraid Ted might have actually killed his own father? And Torvald?”

Doris raised her head and frowned. “I’m so confused.”

She wasn’t the only one.

“I think both you and Ted should be very careful, just in case you become the targets of this killer. You’re all connected in some way.” They should be careful, that is, if they weren’t murderers themselves. Chase had a hard time seeing ultra-feminine Doris or shifty-thief Ted as murderers, but what did she know? No one knew why either one of the victims had been killed, let alone who had killed them.

Doris eventually left, a little more sober than when she had arrived. The rain quit entirely and Doris was able to get to her car without getting any wetter than she’d been when she entered the back door of the shop.

Chase got ready for bed but lay awake for a short time wondering about Elinda, the angry young nephew, Doris—and Ted.

•   •   •

Chase was so
rested by Wednesday morning, she made an early trip by car to pick up some flour and sugar. She’d noticed they were a little low and the regular delivery wouldn’t come for another few days. Anna was arriving as she returned.

As Anna and Chase walked together from their cars toward the shop, Chase saw Vi waiting outside the door. The weather had suddenly turned warm and sunshiny. Chase knew this was an aberration and wouldn’t be likely to last this time of year. It was almost too warm to wear a sweater, let alone a jacket. Chase shed hers as soon as she got inside.

“You’re here early,” Anna said to Vi, who followed Chase through the door into the kitchen. Today Vi wore a lilac sateen blouse with designer cloth-covered buttons. Her brown eyes picked up a bit of purple tint from the fabric.

“My rattletrap car broke down. I got a ride here, but my ride had to drop me off early.”

“Oh my. I’m so sorry,” said Anna, touching Vi’s arm. “Will you be able to get it fixed?”

Vi shrugged. “I haven’t called anybody. I can get rides for now.”

“Do you want me to call a mechanic to look at it?”

“You don’t need to do that. I don’t want you to go to any fuss. I’ll be okay.”

Vi didn’t seem very concerned that she had no transportation. If it had been her BMW that broke down, Chase wondered if she would be more concerned. But, since the BMW had been repossessed, maybe she was putting on a show of not caring about this car. Or maybe she’d decided to actually not care about them anymore. Buying what she couldn’t afford had gotten her into trouble. Or maybe she was being brave, or trying to take care of herself.

Chase ran upstairs to tend to Quincy. He complained loudly about his breakfast being late, but forgave his mistress when she dished out the homemade treat he liked so much. As Chase watched her pet daintily chomp his food, she wondered who Vi had gotten a ride from. Shaun? Had he merely been chauffeuring Vi last night and not tailing Chase, after all?

TWENTY-SIX

D
ownstairs, Chase got a call from Laci saying that she’d seen her doctor again, but wasn’t cleared to work yet.

The morning flew by, with a steady stream of customers, although there weren’t many at a time.

“You never told me exactly why Detective Olson decided to detain you,” Anna said. As usual at this time of day, she was stirring a batch of batter. Chase had been getting a head start on the midmonth payroll and was taking an iced-tea break in the kitchen. It was almost lunchtime. She would spell Vi in the front pretty soon.

Chase hadn’t told Anna about the evidence against her. It seemed like blaming poor old Hilda, like telling on her, but she decided she wanted Anna’s opinion.

“You remember the older woman who lives across from Gabe Naughtly’s condo?” Chase said. “The one who had Quincy last week?”

Anna nodded, concentrating on her bowl. She stuck it under the beaters and turned the mixer on.

Chase raised her voice to be heard over the whirring. “She told the detective that she saw me quite a bit before I said I was there.”

“At the condo, you mean?”

“Yes. She said I was there after Doris and Torvald left, around four thirty, hours before I was really there. And she says that I had blood on my clothes.”

“She’s sure she saw you?”

“She said she saw ‘that nice girl from the Bar None’ leave the condo with blood on her clothing. Come into the office. I want to ask you something.”

Anna switched off the mixer and followed Chase.

As soon as Chase closed the door and Anna sat in the desk chair, Vi called to them and knocked on the door.

“Can someone watch the front? I have an emergency.”

So much for discussing Hilda with Anna. They both returned to the kitchen.

Vi clutched her tote bag to her chest and looked as worried as Chase had ever seen her. “Is there something we can do?”

“No. It’s a family thing. I just found out. It won’t take long. Maybe an hour. There aren’t any customers right now.”

Anna went to Vi, put her hand on Vi’s sateen sleeve, and nodded. “It’s nearly time for your lunch break. You can take it now. We’ll be fine.”

Vi scurried out the back door.

“I wonder where she’s going,” Chase said. “She doesn’t have a car. That reminds me. I told you that Mike saw another person in the car with Shaun last night, but I didn’t mention that I think it might have been Vi.”

“That makes sense.” Anna started pouring batter onto a baking pan. “They seem to have gotten to know each other. You said they were talking outside the other day.”

Chase grimaced. “I don’t think that’s a good thing, but I guess it’s lucky he’s giving her transportation.”

“We should have found out exactly where her car is. I could have someone go out and look at it. Do you think it’s at her home?”

Chase recalled that Vi lived in an expensive part of town, near Lake Calhoun. “If it is, I’ll bet it seems strange, that beat-up old car, in that neighborhood.”

“One of us ought to get out front. I said she could leave, so I’ll go.” Anna untied her apron and draped it over a stool. Chase shook her head after Anna left, and hung it on the proper hook.

Mike called as soon as she returned to the office. Quincy jumped softly into her lap when she sat at the computer.

“I talked to Karla,” he said.

“Who’s that? Oh, your cleaning lady?”

“Yes. She calls her service Karla Kleening, both starting with the letter K.”

“Cute. Or should I say,
kute
with a
K
?” Should she be worried about Karla with a
K
? She tossed Quincy off her lap and began to pace.

“She is kind of cute,” he said. “She’s short and round and has more energy than a Dalmatian puppy.”

Maybe Mike liked round women. Chase wasn’t round, not all over anyway. “Did she tell you anything interesting about finding Torvald?”

“I’m not sure. When she found him, she didn’t touch anything, aside from trying to push the door open so she could get in. As soon as she realized he was probably dead, she backed up and called the police. She said she found a button in the corner, after the body was gone. Iversen’s landlord asked her to clean up so he could re-rent the place.”

“A button? I don’t see what difference that would make.”

“She said it matched a button she found about a week before that. She thinks it’s from a woman’s piece of clothing, probably a top. Too small and delicate for a man’s shirt, she said.”

“Is she taking it to the police?”

Mike hesitated. “Well, that’s a problem. She says she swept it up and threw it out. Later, she realized that, because it was so much like the other one, maybe she should have kept it. But she didn’t have the first one either.”

“None of this sounds like it’s going to help the police any.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

Chase heard a beeping sound.

“That’s my front door. I think my next appointment is here,” Mike said. “I’ll call you later.”

Still fretting about Karla, Chase opened the office door to the kitchen. Then, remembering that they needed more paper bags in the front, she hoisted a box of them and set it on the kitchen counter.

After being shoved off the treat maker’s lap, the cat stalked the room with his tail twitching. A box of comfy paper products stood in the corner with its top open. The cat jumped into the space, just barely big enough to contain him, and took a snooze. The box was left on the kitchen counter. Soon, the cat awoke and peered over the edge of the box.

The box seemed extra-heavy. Chase would carry it up front later. She paced the kitchen. She decided that as soon as Vi returned and Anna was back in the kitchen, she was going to sound her out about Hilda Bjorn. Could the old woman be malicious? Mistaken? Senile? She hadn’t seemed senile. Maybe she could talk to the neighbor, Professor Fear, and find out more about her personality.

There was another thorn in her side at the moment, Karla the Kleener. She was growing more and more fond of Michael Ramos. But the thorn from Karla was a mere sliver compared to the stab that Hilda was delivering to her. How could the woman insist that Chase had run from Gabe’s with blood on her clothes? And how could Chase clear herself of the charges? She didn’t have any bloody clothing, but that didn’t prove anything. She could have thrown her clothes away. As for the timing, how could she prove she wasn’t there at 4:30?

She thought back to that day. She’d been so upset about Gabe coming into the shop and threatening her, and then even more upset about losing control and threatening him, she had taken a walk around the parking lot at about that very time, to cool off and calm herself down. It was a very short walk, not enough time to get to that condo and back. She would never mention that to Detective Olson. No one at the Bar None had said anything about that. Unless Anna had.

BOOK: Fat Cat At Large (A Fat Cat Mystery)
11.61Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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