Fat Cat Takes The Cake

So that was how Grace thought she could “deconstruct” the Bar None recipes, Chase mused. It was unlikely that she could, but she at least knew most of their products if she’d bought nearly each type of bar. That must have been how the purloined recipe copy got to her, too. Chase could envision it falling out of her apron pocket and landing on the shelf under the counter that held the paper bags. Sometimes her pencil fell out of her pocket and that’s where it landed if it didn’t hit the floor. She was sorry she hadn’t seen it before it got into Grace’s purchase.

On the way to the kitchen, she yawned and stretched, trying to stay wide-awake.

Chase and Anna baked most of the morning, then relieved the salesclerks as they had their lunches. After Chase came back and sent Inger to the front, she decided to do some more ordering. The cinnamon was nearly gone and they used a lot this time of year.

No sooner had she sat at her desk, with Quincy purring in her lap, than the office phone rang.

It was Detective Olson. For a split second, her tired brain thought she had called him, but then remembered that she had formed the idea and rejected it. So what was he calling about?

“Ms. Oliver?” She sat up straighter. He called her Chase when he wasn’t being official and formal. “We need you to come to the station to answer a few more questions. Could you make it this afternoon?”

At least he let her set the time. Sort of. “Yes, sure, I can come anytime. What is this about?”

“About the murder. About you finding the body.”

Holy smokes! Was the next suspect . . . Chase Oliver?

NINETEEN

Detective Niles Olson had taken Chase on a mental trip through discovering a body before and it had almost been like hypnotism. While sitting at the chair beside his desk, she had recalled details that had escaped her previously. It didn’t work this time, though.

“You saw the scarf beside the body like this, right?” He had sketched in the way it had lain on the dirt beside Ron’s body, still partly around his neck.

Yes, it was exactly as she had told him the last time she was questioned.

“No footprints in the mud? Any drag marks?”

“No, only Quincy sitting there eating some peanuts that must have been in Ron’s pocket. Would his head have made drag marks?” His head had been toward the street and his feet farther into the bush, so if he were dragged, it had to have been by his feet. The detective had told her Ron North was killed somewhere else. Something about knowing the body had been moved.

“Probably not. But after both Dr. Ramos and you were crawling around in there, we don’t have any good prints from the dirt.”

Chase thought that could not have been helped. They had to crawl into the bush to find him.

“And you’re sure his blackmail victims didn’t kill him? Alone or together? Hail and Snelson are in on that shady deal together, trying to cheat people by buying up their property for less than it’s worth.”

“Those two spent the night together at Mr. Snelson’s house. That’s backed up by his wife. She insists her husband came home very soon after the reunion.”

That woman had made a point of telling Mike Ramos, too. The fact that she was reiterating the story all over town made Chase doubt that it was true. “And Hail was with him? Why would he sleep at their house?”

The detective frowned. Was he getting impatient with her questions? “They both say they had business to discuss pertaining to their new real estate venture and needed to work on it that night. They walked to Snelson’s house, which is nearby.”

“Their scam, you mean. That would be hard to do since they were both drunk. Mrs. Snelson told me, when she came into the shop yesterday, that her husband didn’t come home that night. She did say he spent the night with Mr. Hail, but not at her house.”

He scribbled something on his notepad. “Looks like we need to talk to Mrs. Snelson once more.”

“How about Mr. Snelson? And Mr. Hail, too? Why would Mr. Hail spend the night at anyone’s house? That would be odd, since he lives in town, doesn’t he?”

Olson didn’t answer any of her questions, but she knew they were good ones.

Maybe she would try to talk to the men herself. These people were changing stories every day. If she collected enough contradictions, Olson would take them seriously and Julie’s charges could be dropped and her hearing could be canceled.

After Chase returned to the shop, Mrs. Cray, the janitor from Hammond High School, came into the Bar None again. Chase happened to be behind the counter when she paid for her purchase, six Margarita Cheesecake Bars.

“I can’t resist,” she said. “I do love a margarita. Not that often, every once in a blue moon. Not that often at all.” She got her checkbook out and started writing. “Now, what’s the date? Oh, it’s Sunday, isn’t it? Maybe I shouldn’t eat these on Sunday.”

“There’s hardly any alcohol in them, Mrs. Cray,” Chase said. “It’s there for flavoring, that’s all.” She didn’t mention the tequila and Grand Marnier since all but the taste baked out.