“I’ve been thinking about you.” That voice, so deep and rumbly. If she’d never seen his handsome face, she could have fallen for that voice over the phone. “How are you holding up with everything that’s going on?”
“My back is a little better, but I’m awfully nervous about not knowing who is killing people around here.”
“Would it help to know I’m a little worried, too?”
That was sweet of him to say that. After all, he wasn’t nearly as involved as she was.
“Let me know if there’s anything I can do,” he said.
A vision of Mike rubbing her back, soothing her sore muscles, relaxing her, flitted through her mind. Something inside her tingled. “I will, I promise.”
They chatted a bit about the murders and the suspects, then hung up. But now that she’d thought about a massage, Chase wanted one right away. She would work on that.
• • •
After her chat about suspects with Mike, Chase decided to organize her thoughts more clearly, if she could. She wrote out two names in pencil at the top of a piece of paper: Gabe and Torvald. Unfortunately, for her and for Torvald, he would have been the first named suspect in Gabe’s column, except he was dead, too. She chewed on the pencil. Did the fact that he was dead mean he didn’t murder Gabe, though? Could he have killed him, then could someone have killed Torvald because of that? Maybe Doris? Or Ted? Or Gabe’s tattooed mistress? That mistress was a shadowy figure. Chase assumed she existed, but had never seen the woman herself.
All right, then, time to get down to business. She refused to put her own name anywhere on the paper. Under Gabe, she wrote Doris and Ted. Not knowing the mistress’s name, she wrote just that: mistress. She repeated the same three names in Torvald’s column, in case Torvald killed Gabe and someone exacted revenge on him.
She stared at the names for a moment. The shadowy mistress brought to mind the shadowy young man Vi had talked to in the parking lot last Saturday. She wrote down young man. It had looked like they were arguing. Chase had never seen him again, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a killer.
That’s ridiculous, she told herself. You can’t suspect people just because you don’t know who they are. She erased the young man from both columns.
Quincy noisily protested the fact that she was ignoring him and that his next meal was late. Chase rose to feed him, but she was so absorbed in her task that she didn’t look to see whether or not he ate.
Lacy had connections with the Naughtly family, all of whose names were on the lists, but Chase couldn’t see her way to putting Laci’s name down. Violet had even less connection.
But there was Shaun Everly. She had seen him get into Torvald’s car. Did he have business dealings with Torvald? Gabe had, and Gabe was dead. There must be a tangled connection there somewhere. She put Shaun’s name in both columns.
Except that Torvald’s name was only in one column, the suspects were identical. This was getting her nowhere. She crumpled up the paper and got up to toss it in the kitchen recycle basket.
In the kitchen, she noticed Quincy hadn’t touched his food. No wonder—she had forgotten to add the homemade treats. She mixed in the Kitty Patties and watched Quincy empty his bowl in record time.
Then she made herself a cup of herbal tea and carried it onto her balcony. She wrapped herself in a soft blanket and, watching the Friday night parade pass on the sidewalk below, she sipped her tea and stroked the contented cat in her lap, humming “It’s the Hard-Knock Life” from Annie.
• • •
Hilda Bjorn didn’t take long to collect on the dozen dessert bars Chase had offered her. She came in Saturday morning, right after opening.
Chase heard her voice in the front and came out to greet her.
“Vi,” she said, turning to her clerk, who was more like her suave, confident self today. Her buttons were rose gingham against a purple satin blouse. “I want you to let Hilda choose a dozen, on the house. She helped corral Quincy the other day.”
“Sure thing, boss.” Vi beamed her golden smile on the old woman. “Would you like to taste anything?”
Chase left them to it, glad that Hilda was following through.
The customers were steady throughout the morning, but dwindling from the huge crowds of the week before, much to Chase’s relief—and Anna’s, too, since she could ease up on the incessant baking.
Vi asked to go out for lunch, so Anna clerked while she was gone. There was no reason not to let her go, with the amount of business they were doing.
Soon after Vi returned, Laci Carlson came through the rear door. Chase was surprised to see her there.
Anna reacted much more, though. “What on earth are you doing here, child? Shouldn’t you be resting?”
“I’m rested, Mrs. Larson.” Laci’s smile made her look as lighthearted as Chase had ever seen her. “It’s been nearly a week. I’m bored.”
“What does your doctor say?” asked Chase. “Should you get a clearance to come back to work?”
Laci pouted like a four-year-old. “Yes, I’m supposed to.”
“Did you think we wouldn’t ask about that?” Anna’s tone was gentle, solicitous. “Tomorrow is Monday. We’ll be closed Monday and Tuesday. Maybe you can get in to see your doctor and come back to work on Wednesday.”
“I guess so. I mean, I do have an appointment on Tuesday.”
“That’s settled, then.” Anna pulled out a stool. “Have a seat and I’ll get you a Peanut Butter Fudge Bar.” They were Laci’s favorite. Chase flinched. They’d been Gabe’s favorite, too.
TWENTY-ONE
After they closed, Chase put off doing the books and decided to go out and treat herself to a frozen yogurt. She would get to balancing the books later. After enjoying her solitary creamy treat, she returned to her parking lot to find an old red Saab pulled up next to the place where she always parked her own little Fusion. Laci Carlson got out of the passenger side and waved to Ted as he drove off.
Chase said hi, noting that Laci’s eyes were red-rimmed. “Are you all right?” Laci must have been waiting here to intercept Chase.
“I guess so,” Laci said, not convincing Chase. “It’s Ted. I think he’s two-timing me. It’s not his fault, though. He’s just so distraught.”
Chase wanted to shake Laci by her thin shoulders. Instead, she stepped within inches, invading the young woman’s physical space so she couldn’t ignore Chase’s words. “Listen to me. If a guy is two-timing you, it’s his fault. There’s no excuse for not working out the problems between you.”
“Oh, we don’t have any problems between us. Ted is just, well . . .”
“Ted is just what?” Ted is just a first-class jerk?
“He’s so upset about his mother, and that jacket thing.” She fingered the pearl button on the frilly cuff of her blouse.
“Why is he upset?” The jacket didn’t seem to incriminate his mother, having tomato sauce on it as it did, and not blood.
“He moved it from the bushes so no one would find it, then the cops did find it. They questioned his mother, and him, for hours and hours.” She kept twisting the button. It was coming loose.
“He moved it? He’s the one who stashed it behind my store?”
“He didn’t want his mother harassed.” The button fell to the ground with a soft ping. Laci didn’t seem to notice it, but started fiddling with the one on her other sleeve.
“Questioning her is not harassment. She was one of the last people to see her husband alive. The police are just doing their job.”
Laci shrugged, looking at the pavement.
“Laci, listen to me. It might be a good idea for you to stay away from Ted until the authorities find out who killed his father.”