Fat Cat Takes The Cake

“Oh yes, Julie said you were going to. I haven’t talked to her today. How is the poor girl?”

“She . . . Her parents were there. They want to take her off life support. They don’t think she can recover, or that she’ll be brain damaged if she does. The hospital doctors don’t agree, but their family doctor seems to.”

“Oh dear!” Now Anna sounded like herself, alert and concerned. “What exactly happened to her?”

“She tried suicide, from what I heard at the reunion. It didn’t kill her, but put her into a coma. She’s been unconscious for weeks. She’s being kept alive by machines. It’s so sad. She was a bouncy, happy person when I knew her a few years ago.”

“You know,” Anna said, “people sometimes come out of comas. They wake up after years, and some of them are even normal after that.”

“Her parents are ready to pull the plug.”

“How awful.”

“What makes it worse is that Bart Fender opposes them.”

“Who is he?”

“He was in our class, too. A wrestler back then. And now he’s a coach at Hammond High. He’s Dillon’s boyfriend and believes she can recover.”

“What a mess.”

Chase agreed wholeheartedly.

“Anna, are you all right? Should I bring over some Chinese?”

“You know, that would be lovely. I do have a lot on my mind. Julie and the Batter Battle.”

“And you’re getting married in a little over a week.”

“I think I’m more ready for that than for anything else.”

TWENTY-TWO

Chase was up, barely, when her phone rang on Tuesday, her last day off for the week. She squinted at the caller ID and groaned.

“Hi, Eddie. What are you doing up so early?” She aimed her squint at her bedside alarm clock. Eight o’clock. She had said she would call him, but not this early.

“It’s not that early, is it? I was driving into work and saw you walking your cat yesterday. I wondered if I could walk with you today.”

“I’m still in bed.”

“I’d really like to see you. I remembered something else about the reunion.”

Chase stifled another groan. If he had information that could shed some light on the murder, she should meet him. “I can be ready in an hour.” Maybe waiting that long would discourage him. Eight wasn’t early, she agreed, unless it was your day off and you were sleeping in.

“No problem. Give me a jingle when you’re ready. My new manager is opening for me today.” The guy was so doggone cheerful and it was way too early for that.

An hour later, bundled against the cold wind, Chase and Quincy in his harness were walking the route to the Meet N Eat with Eddie, the place where they had met for lunch last week. Eddie handed her one of the two hot drinks he’d brought along.

“What is it?” Chase was suspicious. The heavy paper cup bore the words Health from the Heath Bar

so she knew it might be anything. Maybe a boiled root from Tasmania or an infusion of exotic herbs from the Siberian tundra.

“Hot chocolate.” He grinned and took a sip of his.

She eyed the cup, but couldn’t tell what was inside, since it had a lid with a drink spout. “Okay. I love hot chocolate.” She was sure there wouldn’t be any marshmallows. She took a sip. There wasn’t any chocolate either. It was carob.

“Thanks, Eddie.” She decided to hold the cup for a few minutes and pretend to sip. For her, a true chocolate lover, carob was nothing but a dirty trick. It was almost chocolate, but not quite. Your nose was fooled until your tongue got the full, deceptive impact.

As they approached the corner before the diner, a familiar pickup truck drove past. It looked very much like Mike Ramos’s truck.

Great. Now the morning was perfect. Her sleep-in was ruined, she was mocked by hot carob, and Mike had seen her taking a walk with Eddie Heath. She probably couldn’t pretend this was a business meeting.

She was going to have to make up her mind. Either she kept seeing Eddie Heath or she didn’t. The trouble was, her brain knew which decision she should make. But here he was next to her, exuding a distinctly sexy aura, touching her hand when he handed her the cup and sending shock waves through her admittedly weak body. To make everything worse, when he trained those bedroom eyes on her, as he did now when he talked about how well Quincy was doing, she had trouble tearing her gaze away, even to check on her obedient (for a change) cat.

“Hey, look where we are,” Eddie said as they approached the front of Meet N Eat.

The morning was very cold and Chase was sorry the place wasn’t open yet so they could go in and warm up. They probably wouldn’t have let Quincy in, however.

“We saw that drunk guy here,” Eddie went on. “Remember? Langton Hail. I wonder if he was ever sober before he started coming into my health bar.”

“He visits your place?”

“He started coming a few days ago. I think he’s serious about going straight. He’s talked to me about his addiction. People do that. They talk to me like I’m a bartender.”