Fat Cat Takes The Cake

Chase and Julie introduced themselves to Dillon’s parents. Mrs. Yardley took the flowers and the card and propped them up alongside a few others on the wide windowsill. “Bart said he thought Dillon would like some visitors,” Chase said.

“I’m so sorry,” Dillon’s mother said. “Her father and I have decided to . . .”

“They’re going to pull the plug,” Bart shouted. “They’re going to kill her.”

“Bart, be reasonable.” Dillon’s mother gestured to him with her palm outstretched. “The doctors say her brain is severely damaged.” She looked at Bart, pleading with her sad eyes. “It’s time, Bart.”

“I’ll stop this. You’ll see.” He stormed out past all of them, brushing against Chase roughly as he left the room. She could feel heat emanating from him, he was so angry.

“Oh dear.” Dillon’s mother’s face puckered. “Can he really do that? Stop us from letting her go?”

Chase turned to Julie. Julie shrugged. She obviously didn’t know if he’d be able to or not. That was probably what he’d wanted Julie to give him legal advice about. A look passed between the parents that told Chase she was right.

“Is she completely unresponsive?” Chase asked.

“What Bart sees,” said Dillon’s father, “are some reflexive movements. Some occasional jerking. The hospital doctor is no help. He won’t explain it to Bart. But if her brain is damaged, she has no chance. There’s no point in continuing life support. Our own family doctor agrees with us.”

“Not in so many words,” his wife said, rearranging the cards on the windowsill.

“No, but that’s what he meant. He said he wouldn’t continue if it were his daughter.”

Chase shuddered at the stark words. The agony was palpable in this warm, small room. She reached out and touched the hands of Dillon’s parents, unable to speak. Julie did the same, and they departed in silence.

Julie had to say good-bye in the parking garage so she could get back to work. Chase drove home slowly, bothered by the terrible decision Dillon’s parents were forced to make. Bart, she was convinced, was positive he was doing the right thing, but he was making it harder for Dillon’s parents. There was no good solution. When she got home, she cuddled with Quincy and watched traffic from inside her balcony doors until she felt a bit calmer. Then she called Detective Olson.

“Olson here.” He sounded official and in a hurry.

“This is Chase Oliver, Detective Olson.”

“Chase, you can call me Niles, you know.” His voice softened.

Sometimes she thought she could, but at other times she didn’t think so. “Okay, Niles. I wanted you to know that Mrs. Cray, the janitor at the high school, was in our shop yesterday. Has she called you?”

“No. What about?” Now he was interested.

“She cleaned the school Sunday morning after the reunion and she found the principal asleep in his office. She thought Mr. Snelson had slept there all night.” And left tissues all over the floor.

“Do you have a number for her?”

Chase mentally kicked herself. “No, I gave her your number.”

“I don’t think that helped, did it? She hasn’t called me.”

He didn’t have to rub it in and make her feel even worse for not thinking of getting some information from the woman.

“It’s all right, Chase. I can find her. As a matter of fact, I interviewed Mrs. Snelson again this morning and she finally told us what I’m pretty sure is the truth. It also matches what your janitor says.”

“Which truth did she tell this time?” How could he be sure when she had given so many versions?

“She broke down, said she told him to leave the house and drove all his clothes to the dump. She said he had urged her to lie for him, but she hated doing it. She apparently didn’t know he was involved with the land swindle that’s been in the news. He told her about it a couple of nights ago and she blew up at him.”

“That makes sense. Anna said she saw Mrs. Snelson’s car yesterday and it was piled high with clothing.”

“We re-interviewed him after talking with his wife and he gave us the same story. He slept all night at the school. The reason he didn’t go home after the reunion was that he’s allergic to his wife’s new dog. She’s been lying to protect him from being a murder suspect, but she’s pretty upset about the real estate thing.”

“I think he had a lot to drink.” Mrs. Cray had said he smelled like liquor the next day. Chase herself had seen him taking hits from Ron’s flask around the punch bowl, too. Maybe Ron compensated his blackmail victims with shots of fortification.

“He admitted he was being blackmailed by Mr. North,” Niles said. “But I don’t think he could have killed him. A few witnesses say he was almost too drunk to stand by the end of the evening. We have two, now three, matching accounts of his whereabouts.”

“Should you be telling me all of this?”

“I just talked to a reporter and gave her most of the same information. Enough to publicly get Snelson off the hook anyway.”

“I didn’t know he was on the hook. I thought Julie was the only one there.”

“Definitely not the only one.”

“But she is still on?”