“Yes. What are you saying?” She returned the cheese to the refrigerator drawer, shooed Quincy out, and closed the door with a whomp of the gasket. Some of the air seemed to go out of the apartment, making it hard to breathe. Quincy stalked off as if he had never displayed any interest in the refrigerator.
“I’m saying you’d better not leave town any time soon. If you must, please clear it with me first.”
“Oh.” She clicked the phone off. Not leave town? The only fingerprints on the weapon? She was a suspect?
Chase sat in her stuffed chair and hyperventilated. Quincy seemed to sense her real distress and climbed into her lap, purring loudly. She stroked his silky back absently.
After what may have been minutes and may have been an hour, it registered that Quincy felt heavier than ever.
Chase needed to talk to someone. Not Anna. She called her best friend, Julie. She and Julie had taken skating lessons together, had camped out at Lake Minnetonka every summer, cross-country skied on the golf courses every winter, had shared the stories of their first kisses in eighth grade, had cried together when Julie got stood up at a junior high school dance, and knew all of each other’s secrets. Chase needed to hear a friendly voice, so she did what she usually did. She called Julie.
There was no answer. She texted, “Call ASAP SOS.”
Within five minutes her cell rang.
Chase opened the connection without checking caller ID. “Julie?”
“No, this is Dr. Ramos.”
Chase pictured his dark, curly hair and those liquid brown eyes. Her heart lurched slightly. “Yes?”
“I’m calling to see how Quincy is doing.”
“Oh.” He was just interested in the cat. “To tell you the truth, something isn’t working. I don’t have a scale, but it seems like he’s gaining weight.”
“You’re feeding him the prescription meals and treats?”
“Oh yes. I am, Dr. Ramos.” Other people may not be, though. Other people, like Anna.
“Please call me Mike. Do you think he’s getting into anything else to eat?” Was he a mind reader?
“He . . . may be getting . . . something.” She scratched between her cat’s ears, right on his stripes, where he liked it.
“Would you like to come in tomorrow and weigh him here?”
“Sure, I’d— No, I can’t tomorrow. It’s Friday. The shop will be tremendously busy until school opens next Tuesday.”
“What time do you close?”
“At six.”
“I can stay late for you, if you’d like to come by then.”
She’d prefer to meet him somewhere that wasn’t furnished with stainless steel tables, but that would do for now. Maybe she’d bring him some Almond Cherry Bars.
“I also called to see how you’re doing, Chase.”
“Not all that well.”
“I’m concerned about you being mixed up in a murder mess.”
That was sweet. The man was good looking. And hadn’t accused her of embezzlement. So he was a huge step up from the last guy she’d dated, Shaun Everly.
“I’m holding up pretty well, Dr. Ramos.”
“Mike.”
“Okay, Mike.”
“If there’s anything I can do, don’t hesitate to let me know.”
She couldn’t imagine what that would be, but she thanked him for his kind offer.
“I’ll see you about six thirty?”
After she hung up, Chase had a warm, fuzzy tingle that Mike was thinking of her. She picked Quincy up and danced around the small room with him, being careful not to stomp her feet too heavily so Anna wouldn’t come up and ask what she was doing. Quincy seemed puzzled by the activity, but went along with it, although he flattened his ears a bit.
Anna had offered to do the books again. Chase hoped there wouldn’t be more money missing tonight.
After a light supper and another attempt to convince Quincy that his diet food was delicious, she tried Julie again. Still no answer.
As she crawled into bed with a book she was sure she wouldn’t be able to concentrate on, her cell rang. She saw Julie’s ID. At last!
“I have so much to tell you,” Chase began.
“I have some news, too, but you go first.”
“You want the good news or the bad news first?”
“Bad,” said Julie. “Get it out of the way.”
“This isn’t too bad. We had a violation on the health inspection, but it’s an easy fix—just the sign missing that tells us to wash our hands. Stupid regulation anyway. Here’s the good news. Sort of. I think Quincy’s vet might like me.”
Quincy raised his head and blinked at the mention of his name. Chase scratched the short, soft fur between his ears and he closed his eyes, purred, and leaned into her fingers.
“You’re not sure that it’s good news?”
“Not really. He aggravates the heck out of me. He’s so critical of Quincy.”
“Chase, I think he’s trying to keep your baby healthy. That’s not a bad thing.”
“I suppose. Now, what’s your news?”
“I have a new case, a big one.”
“Ooo, great! Can you tell me about it?”
“Not yet. It’ll be a high-profile trial, so you’ll read about it. I’m excited!”
“Are you going to be superbusy?”
“Probably. Why? Do you need something?”
“How can you tell?” Chase smiled. Her anxiety must have been transmitting through the phone waves. “I was wondering if you could find out what the police file says about me. Detective Olson told me not to leave town. He said mine were the only fingerprints on the murder weapon.”
“There you go! You didn’t murder Naughtly. This is the proof.”
SEVEN
As Chase walked slowly down the stairs to the shop on Friday morning, she pondered what Julie had said. Why hadn’t she thought of the fact that Gabe’s prints should be on the knife? That is, they should be on it if he’d used it to, say, slice onions or bell peppers for his meatloaf. If the killer had pulled it from a drawer or a knife block, and had used gloves, then sure, hers would be the only prints. Could she get the lab to test the knife for traces of onion? Didn’t everyone put onion in meatloaf?
At least Julie said she would try to access the files and see if there was anything in the parts available to her that she could pass on to Chase. Julie was such a good friend. Not only didn’t she have time to do this right now, she shouldn’t be poking around in cases she wasn’t working on. If only Julie were in criminal defense, instead of prosecution. Except she wouldn’t be able to spy for Chase if she were.
Quincy purred in her arms as she reached the bottom of the steps and reached for the door into the kitchen. She hesitated a moment. Anna hadn’t come up to say good-bye last night and they hadn’t parted on good terms earlier. Chase determined to patch things up today.
She threw the door open and sang a cheery “Hi” to Anna, who was on a stool at the island.
Anna’s chin was in her hands, elbows propped on the granite surface, a glum expression on her face. The expression was so unusual, Chase wondered at first if the woman dressed in Anna’s bright yellow T-shirt and wearing Anna’s shiny gray hair, staring at the bars on the baking pan that sat on the counter in front of her, was really Anna.
“How’s it going?” Chase asked, regretting her wording the moment she said it. It was obviously not going well. “What’s the matter?”
“Taste this.” Anna took a square off the pan and held it out, then drew her hand back. “No, don’t. I’m not that mean.”
It looked like an Almond Cherry Bar from the batch Anna had made late yesterday. “Something’s wrong with it?”
“Something’s wrong with the cook. I must have doubled the amount of almond flavoring.”
Chase took the confection from her and sniffed it. It smelled wonderful. She nibbled a corner, then ran to the sink to spit it out. “Um, maybe you tripled it.”
“Next, I’ll be confusing sugar and salt.” Anna shook her head to clear her mood and got up to start baking. Chase, not wanting to go over the ledger figures, started a batch of Strawberry Cheesecake Bars herself, humming “Ya Got Trouble” from The Music Man. The sweet baking smells soon dispelled the gloom that Anna’s early morning mood had thrown over the room.