Fat Cat Takes The Cake

Then what she’d seen registered and she did a double take. Dickie Byrd wasn’t looking in her direction at all. His gaze was glued to the face of the woman in his arms. She sure wasn’t his wife, Mona. Chase couldn’t help herself. She stopped, dumbfounded. She watched as Dickie bent toward the woman and their lips met. Quincy twined around her legs, not wanting to stop now that they were on their way.

The woman was a lot shorter than Mona, and a lot more stacked. Where Mona was delicate, fluttery, this woman was solid. Even accounting for her down jacket, she was heftier than Dickie’s model-slim wife. And she had no qualms about extra-long and passionate public kisses.

Chase pulled herself away and walked on. Quincy trotted with her happily. Moving was better than standing still in this weather. And here Chase had thought Dickie might be a suspect in Ron North’s death, defending his wife’s honor from her stalker. Not hardly! He was wadding up his wife’s honor and kicking it to the curb.

She might as well circle around and head north to Hilda Bjorn’s house and check on the woman. From the information Julie had, she thought Ms. Bjorn had described the principal as the man who made the very low offer on her house. That made no sense.

Chase was glad the real estate case was taking Julie’s mind off the murder investigation. At least, she hoped it was.

Quincy bounded up the few steps to Hilda’s front porch. He knew and liked the old woman. A small, vibrant woman in her late eighties, dressed in a blue velour pantsuit, opened the door. Her wire-rim glasses winked in the frosty sunshine and her face wrinkled with joy.

“Two of my favorites! Come in, Chase. Come in, Quincy. Let me see what I can rustle up for you.”

Chase followed her into the small, snug living room. “Please don’t, Ms. Bjorn. We have only a few minutes.” Not quite true, but she didn’t want the woman stuffing Quincy with tuna fish or, worse, cookies. “I would like to ask you about the man who offered you some money for your house. My friend Julie Larson told me a little bit about it. She’s working on this for her real estate office.”

“My, there are a lot of people involved, aren’t there? Well, it’s a great deal of money.”

“How much exactly did he say?”

“He said at least twenty thousand!”

“You know, that’s not very much for this house. It’s a desirable neighborhood. If you do want to sell, you could probably get a lot more.”

“Oh, but Mr. Nelson said I had to make up my mind quickly or the offer would go down.”

“Mr. Nelson?”

“Yes, I remembered his name this morning because I had a boyfriend named Vance once. His name is Vance.”

Vance? “Did he show you his real estate credentials?”

“Oh, you sound just like Professor Fear. He’s very suspicious of this nice man. I can’t imagine why. I didn’t think to do that. He looks honest.”

A knock sounded on the door and Ms. Bjorn let Professor Anderson Fear into the living room. Chase glimpsed his blue fat-tire bike leaned against her porch railing. He peered at Chase, then took off his steamy glasses and wiped them on the tail of his plaid shirt. As usual, his hair stuck up in places and his clothing was rumpled and disheveled. Exactly right for a professor, Chase thought.

“We were talking about you, Andy, this very minute. I’ll get you some hot chocolate.” Ms. Bjorn bustled out of the room to her kitchen.

“Chase Oliver,” the man said, finally placing who she was. “Do you know how soon your friend Ms. Larson can talk to both of us?”

“I know that she’s taking this pro bono, so has to squeeze visits in. She was here yesterday, but you must have missed her. Ms. Bjorn was telling me about the guy who made the offer to her.”

“I guess I missed seeing her,” Professor Fear said.

Hilda Bjorn came back with a steaming mug for the professor.

“You’re not having any?” he asked Chase.

“No, we have to get going. But you go ahead. You’re probably cold from your bike ride.”

He perched on the edge of the couch cushion, which sagged halfway to the floor with his slight weight. “It’s not that cold yet. It’s above zero. Did you tell Chase about the man? What was his name?”

“Vance,” Ms. Bjorn said.

“What does he look like?” Chase asked.

“A great big egret, one of those white ones. A snowy egret.”

“Is he tall, short?”

“No, more medium height, I think. He was very nice.”

“Ms. Bjorn, please promise me that you’ll talk to Professor Fear before you sign anything. Make sure you do that, okay?”

“Yes, Hilda,” he said. “Don’t sign anything at all unless I’m there.”

“All right, but I think you young people are being too suspicious.”

“Maybe we are, but it’s better to be safe,” Chase said, and headed out.

Hilda Bjorn closed the door after them, clucking, and shaking her head. In general, Chase thought Ms. Bjorn was on the ball, but her idea of house prices was stuck in the year that she bought hers and was sadly out of date. Just the thing an unscrupulous land broker would count on.