He didn’t answer, merely turned off the recorder and told her to come in and sign her statement when it was typed up. They’d call her.
He looked disappointed in her question. Well, maybe that had been a dumb thing to ask. But why did she care what Detective Olson thought about her?
“I’d like you to stop at the counter before you leave, too,” he said. “We need to get your prints.”
She was relieved that the procedure was electronic and didn’t get black goo all over her fingers, like she’d seen on TV.
That evening, after the shop closed and the bickering employees had left, Chase sipped a cup of decaf in the kitchen with Anna. Anna had baked most of the day, until the traffic had slowed in the afternoon, giving the women a chance to get ahead on chores. Now the cooking equipment was all cleaned and put away, ready for Thursday morning. The sweet bakery aromas of the day lingered, giving the kitchen a close, homey feel.
“About the rats . . .” began Chase.
“Bill wouldn’t have said anything.” Anna seemed to be reading Chase’s mind again.
“How did Laci hear about the rats, then?”
“Vi heard, too,” said Anna. “Did they both seem evasive about telling us who’s been talking?”
“Maybe it’s Ted,” said Chase. “Do you suppose he released them, for his father? I can’t see Laci doing it, just because they’re seeing each other, but Ted’s a strange guy.”
“I don’t know about strange, but he is troubled. He’s had a problem with light fingers all his life.”
“I didn’t know that. Is that why he got sent home from college? Doris said it was his grades.”
“No doubt it was. I don’t think you get expelled for shoplifting.”
“That’s an ugly word,” said Chase. “But I have noticed some of the boxed treats near the front of the store have been disappearing. Our count has been short three times. Do you think Ted’s pilfering them?”
Anna shrugged. “Wouldn’t surprise me. After all, who does he have for parents?”
“What is it with you and Doris?” Chase knew they didn’t like each other, but with the recent events, she wanted to know more.
“Ancient history.” Anna waved a hand in the air. “Have you found out anything about the missing cash register money?”
“No, of course not. I’d tell you if I did.” Chase hadn’t exactly said money was missing, just that she couldn’t get the accounts to balance.
Anna rose to wash out her cup in the sink. Quincy was doing his nightly counter prowl. He patrolled for stray tidbits, acting like he was just out for a walk, his tail held high as he sauntered.
Tonight didn’t seem to be the right time to find out about Doris and Anna and what the animosity was about. Ted was also an enigma to Chase. Laci proclaimed how sensitive he was, and how upset by his parents’ impending divorce. Chase couldn’t tell that he was bothered by anything, though. Was his apparent indifference a self-protective façade? If he had a history of shoplifting, he’d probably been troubled for quite some time. Maybe his parents’ relationship had been stormy for a long time—maybe always.
Chase yawned. “I’d better go close out the cash drawer.”
“No need. I’m sure that session at the police station tired you.”
“It must have. I’m beat.”
“You go upstairs and rest,” Anna said. “I’ll close.”
“We agreed I’d do that,” said Chase.
“I know, but I’m perfectly capable of it and you’re worn out. I’ll make you do extra baking tomorrow.”
Chase knew Anna wouldn’t enforce that, but accepted her offer. It felt just a tad odd that Anna was insisting on doing the books, but the gesture was appreciated. Chase knew Anna didn’t like doing them.
“Thanks loads, Anna. I am tired. Maybe you’ll have better luck. I’m not looking forward to battling Quincy into eating his healthy food. This morning he gave me the evil eye when I tried to feed him. I’ll bet he hasn’t eaten a thing all day.”
“We’ll have to come up with something that’s good for him that he likes. Have you smelled that cat food?”
“Cats like dead birds and mice. They surely can’t tell what smells good.”
“Go on. I’ll lock up and wipe the counters.”
Chase picked up her cat and dragged herself up the steps, suddenly weary from all the events of the last two days and looking forward to a snuggle with her guy, Quincy.
The pudgy cat purred to be back upstairs, in the apartment with the soft furniture and the warm human lap. The surfaces in the office were so hard. It was time for what the humans called din dins. However, something vile was poured into the bowl where goodness used to be. He lapped up some water and walked away from the food bowl. No longer purring, his tail twitching and his ears low, he jumped onto the bed and shunned the warm lap for the rest of the evening. There were good smells in the apartment, but nothing good was being put into his food bowl.
A light knock sounded on Chase’s apartment door. She opened it to find Anna on the landing, a worried frown on her face.
“What is it? Come on in,” said Chase.
“I want you to come downstairs and see something.” Anna turned and headed down.
What on earth? Chase wondered. Anna sounded so serious. She followed the older woman.
“There aren’t more rats, are there?” she said to Anna’s back.
Anna didn’t answer, but led the way into the office. She pointed Chase into the chair behind the old wooden desk, which had come from Anna’s house when they opened shop. Leaning toward the computer screen, Anna pointed to a column of figures on a spreadsheet.
“There,” Anna said.
Chase saw it immediately. There was an obvious discrepancy in the two numbers that should balance. “You’ve checked this?”
“And rechecked and rechecked. We’re short one hundred dollars in cash. It’s probably not an error making change.”
Chase remembered Vi complaining that Ted had been behind the counter with Laci. “You think Ted took it?”
“I have no idea. Someone took it.”
The silence hung between them with a somberness that made Chase squirm inside. “Could you talk to Ted?”
“If you think I should,” said Anna.
“Someone should.”
“If you insist, I’ll do it.”
“I’ll let you.” Chase couldn’t imagine how she would start that discussion. She stood so Anna could sit down and close the computer program.
“Quincy didn’t eat a thing tonight,” Chase said as they entered the kitchen. “I’m getting worried about him.”
“Poor thing. He’s starving.”
“I don’t think he is. Otherwise he’d eat his dinner.”
Was Anna still slipping him treats during the day? She’d have to watch for that tomorrow.
FIVE
Chase had gone over the numbers at least five times Thursday morning. Anna was right. Money was missing. She’d been hunched over the keyboard in the tiny office for a couple of hours, enduring Quincy’s plaints while he sniffed and pawed at the bottom of the door, trying to hook the corner with his claws. At one point, he even jumped onto the two-drawer filing cabinet that sat next to the door and tried to turn the slick brass doorknob.
“If you had opposable thumbs, you’d be dangerous,” she told him. He had the right idea and apparently knew exactly how to open the door, just couldn’t physically do it.
Her eyes were blurring from concentrating on the screen for so long. With a huff of exasperation, she pushed her chair away. Careful to keep Quincy confined—who knew when another health inspector might come by?—she left the office and went to the front to see how the day was going. It was almost lunchtime and she’d heard the front door chimes as the door opened and closed almost nonstop. This week was good for business, but she’d be glad when it was over.