Fat Cat Takes The Cake

Her heart raced at the thought of Eddie Heath. She wished it wouldn’t, but it did just the same. “Hi, Eddie. I’m not sure. I usually work here all day.”

“You wanna check?”

She didn’t want to go to his health bar, she was sure about that. But she needed to talk to someone who knew these people. He knew the principal and Dickie Byrd, of course, and Ron North. But she hadn’t found anyone who knew Langton Hail, the funny little guy who wore vests. Maybe she would have lunch with him and pick his brain. “I’ll call you back in a couple of minutes.”

“I’ll be waiting here.”

She wondered where “here” was. She checked on the kitchen. Mallory was wolfing down a burrito and said she would be ready to return to work in a couple of minutes. When she poked her head through the doors into the salesroom, Anna was neatening the shelves.

“Not busy?” Chase asked.

“No, not since the six customers who were here when I came out.”

Chase returned to her office and sat in her chair, petted Quincy, and pondered whether she should have lunch again with the delectable Eddie Heath, who was a certifiable health nut and who was not Michael Ramos.

ELEVEN

When Bill came over to keep Anna company that evening after the shop closed, Chase stayed to watch Anna practice. She was becoming more and more invested in Anna winning the contest. For about half a minute she considered mentioning her lunch date tomorrow, but decided against that. She needed counsel from someone, but not from Anna when Bill was there. After all, they were getting very close to their wedding day. How could she bother them with relationship issues now? No, she couldn’t.

“Chase,” Bill said to her as Anna clattered her measuring cups and spoons onto the counter. “What do you know about Julie and this murder business?”

Anna raised her head quickly, lines forming between her eyebrows.

“Not much. It looks like Ron was strangled with her scarf and the police won’t let go of that. I know”—or was pretty sure—“that she never had her scarf again after he took it.” Chase opened the cupboard and got out the mixing bowls Anna would need.

“So,” Anna said, turning her back to the counter for a moment, “the victim had it. Ron North had the scarf and whoever killed him got it from—what, a pocket or something?”

“I saw him stuff it into his pocket,” Chase said. “His hip pocket.”

“It could have even fallen out,” Bill said, taking a seat on one of the stools. “Anyone could have picked it up.”

“Julie told me she went outside to meet Bart Fender.” Anna spoke slowly. “In the parking lot. He asked for legal advice.” Anna’s voice dropped and cracked. “Ron North was there, too. But she’s told the police she didn’t see either one of them, that she wasn’t in the parking lot. She’s lying to the police.” Anna’s fists were clenched, wrinkling her apron.

Chase could tell that Anna was getting more and more distraught by the discussion, so she started asking her questions about her baking procedure for the contest, and they quit talking about Julie.

•   •   •

Julie called later that night, after Anna and Bill left. Chase was upstairs, thinking about getting ready for bed. She grabbed the phone, muting the sitcom she was watching.

“Well, can you tell me anything?” Chase asked, eager for the details. “Have the police finally admitted you didn’t do the crime?”

“Not that I know of.”

“They at least know you didn’t have that scarf, right?”

“Right. But someone told them that I went out to the parking lot after Ron left. I went out there because Bart Fender wanted to ask me a legal question, one that I’m not qualified to handle. So I followed him out, but came right back in. I saw Ron there, so I suppose I could have gotten the scarf from him then.”

“But you didn’t! Who on earth said that?”

“I don’t think they would have told me if I’d asked. Maybe Bart.”

“Did you learn anything today that sheds light on the murder?”

“I think I did, actually. Not from Hilda Bjorn. Not yet. But I’ve been going through those copied pages you gave me, from Ron’s notebook.”

“Have you figured out the code?”

“No, not the code. I decided to read the other stuff, his notes for stories he intended to write up.”

“It was awfully hard to read his writing,” Chase said.

“It was, but I’ve been working at it for the last hour or so. It looks like he was doing a story on the school board. He thought some money was being misspent. He interviewed the principal and did some background investigating on him. If I’m reading this right, he suspected that Mr. Snelson was misappropriating funds. It doesn’t help that Ron’s spelling is atrocious. Anyway, he also happened upon the fact that Mr. Snelson, along with a big-time developer, Langton Hail, had petitioned the city for a zoning change. They planned to build a large apartment complex on Hilda Bjorn’s block, Ron’s notes say.”

“So the two of them were in it together? Snelson and Hail?”

“Apparently they planned to buy every house on the block.”

“For almost nothing?”