Fat Cat Takes The Cake

“Yes, with emphasis on old. Not anymore. I’m going to buy some new sneakers. Quincy, you be good while I’m gone.” She leaned down to give him a few strokes, loving the rumbling purr he returned. She left before Anna could talk about Eddie Heath any more. She was conflicted enough without trying to explain herself to her partner.

Anna was gone when she returned with her new sneakers. She hadn’t even considered asking Anna along. Although Anna loved shoe shopping, she wouldn’t love trying on anything as prosaic and practical as everyday work shoes. Anna hadn’t stayed to see them, so Chase knew she was right.

Julie had called her while she was trying on her fifth pair of shoes, then Chase had decided to catch a bite of supper at a fast food place near the mall. She had to have something substantial after that lunch. By the time she got back it was nearly seven.

She sipped her takeout drink through the plastic straw as she entered her apartment, greeted Quincy—Anna must have brought him here when she left—and returned Julie’s call.

“Where have you been? Anyplace interesting?” Julie asked.

“I’ve been doing your favorite thing, buying a pair of shoes.”

“Only one pair? I never buy just one.”

“Well, I know, but I never buy two.”

“Right. Okay, spill, what kind, what color? Where did you go?”

“They’re mostly white, with some blue—”

“You bought tennis shoes! You’re bragging about buying tennis shoes?”

So Julie thought as much of her purchase as Anna must have, obviously. Chase still had to buy her wedding shoes, too. She hadn’t seen a thing she liked today. “Yes, I bought shoes for work. My other pair is falling apart. Now, what did you call me about?”

“Ooh, I have a scoop. I think. One of the other lawyers was talking to me in the break room about an older man who is in the process of getting his real estate license. I didn’t pay much attention until he said the man is a high school principal, and has been forever.”

“Mr. Snelson?” Chase toed off her old sneakers and curled up in the corner of her leather couch—her one splurge when she’d been furnishing the apartment. After Quincy inspected the new bag with the shoebox inside, he joined her and got a head scratch for his efforts.

“Mr. Van Snelson! None other. Yes, he even knew his name. Our principal is going to quit his job as soon as he qualifies, evidently. My colleague knows the woman who teaches the class he’s taking. Mr. Snelson has told the teacher that he wants to keep it quiet until he’s ready to make the change.”

“Oh, so the teacher tells your lawyer friend, who tells you, who tells me. So much for keeping it quiet.”

“How does he think no one is going to find out? It’s not illegal to say who your students are. So far, though, that’s only four people.”

“So far. What a strange thing for him to do, don’t you think? Go into real estate?”

“Eh, I don’t know. He’s been at that school for ages, but I don’t think anyone ever liked him.”

“You’re not supposed to like the principal, are you?” Chase recalled, though, that she had adored her principal in grade school.

“Why not? If you’re not a troublemaker, there’s no reason you shouldn’t get along with him.”

“You and I certainly weren’t troublemakers, were we?”

“Wellll,” Julie drawled. “There was that time . . .”

“Oh yes, but we never got caught.”

“What’s that horrible noise?”

Chase had reached the bottom of her drink and had slurped. Quincy, annoyed at the racket, too, jumped down. “My drink.”

“I also wanted to tell you that I was called into the police station at noon.”

“How did that go, Jules?”

She took a deep breath, sounding shaky. “Not the funnest lunch hour I ever took. That Detective Olson is a grim guy.”

“He can be. What did he ask you about?”

“Lots, including the fact that my scarf was used to strangle Ron North. I remember Ron took it with him, but I get the idea he doesn’t believe me. I made the mistake of telling the detective it’s one of my favorites, so he wanted to know why I didn’t get it back. I couldn’t stand dealing with Ron, is why, but Olson is not buying it. He knows about the thing in high school, too. Someone must have told him.”

Chase cringed, glad Julie couldn’t see her face.

“But I’ve been going over those pages you copied for me. I saw something I hadn’t noticed before.”

Shaking her new shoes out of the box, Chase left it with the lid off so Quincy could jump in and out of it. He would probably do that for at least half an hour. “Wait, let me get my copy.” Chase spread the pages out on her kitchen table.

“Look at the page with those weird names.”

Chase pulled the sheet toward her.

“See it? The extra letter?”

“No.” She held the paper up closer to her face. “Oh, yes, I do.” A faint J was written lightly below the word BIRD. “He was thinking of adding to this list? Someone named J? Has it been penciled in? I think so.”

“BIRD, Chase, think of it. Isn’t that Dickie Byrd?”

“Then who is PRINCE?”