“Whoa! You’re still a suspect?”
“As far as I know.” She didn’t bring up her most recent stay in the police station. “I truly think Iversen might be the one who killed Gabe, though. So how can I clear my name now?”
“Don’t you think it’s more logical that the same person killed both of them? They had business dealings together. They might have crossed the wrong person in their underhanded attempts to take over other people’s property.”
“Like mine.”
“They were after your shop?”
“Most definitely! That, and the fact that I put my fingerprints on the knife that killed Gabe, puts me in the spotlight. Or whatever they call that bright light in the grilling room.”
“You were put in a grilling room with a bright light?”
“Well, not actually. It was a grilling room, but there wasn’t a bright light. Being questioned by Detective Olson makes me feel like I’m in a cement room with no air.” If she told him about being left alone for all those hours, she’d probably break down and cry.
“I can imagine.”
“Can you see if your cleaning lady knows any details that might help clear me? For all I know, I’ll be suspected of killing Iversen now.”
“I’m not usually there when she comes, but I can leave a note for her to call me. Or, I’ll tell you what, since I worked a good part of Sunday, I’ll cancel some appointments tomorrow and be there when she comes.”
Chase let out a breath of relief. “That would be wonderful.”
After doing everything she could to get every last drop of the tiramisu, everything short of picking up the plate and licking it, Chase had a sudden thought.
“Something connects Gabe and Torvald,” she said.
“Their business dealings, I’m sure,” said Mike. “That’s what I’ve gathered from the news sources. Several people have posted online about Torvald’s possible shady business practices.”
“True. But I’m wondering if anyone else is in danger. Maybe those close to them.”
“Does Torvald have any family locally?”
“I’m not sure, but Gabe does.” There was the person named Elinda, who had signed the book at the funeral home, but who knew where she lived? “Do you think Doris and Ted might be in trouble?”
“Are those his wife and son?”
“They were getting a divorce, but I doubt it had gone through yet.”
“Since no one knows why either one was killed, I suppose it’s a possibility.”
Chase wondered if she should mention that to Detective Olson. Maybe her best strategy would be to stay away from both Doris and Ted so that if they were killed she wouldn’t be right there, gripping the murder weapon.
The streetlights, charming imitation gaslights, lit the sidewalk outside the restaurant. Mike had managed to find a parking spot a half a block away. It would be a nice place for a romantic stroll, thought Chase, if the wind weren’t blowing so hard and cold. Mike bustled her into the truck and slammed the door against the elements. He was quite the gentleman.
Coming down the hill on the way home, Chase loved the way the lights of the city spread out before them. “Are you recovered yet from your awful day at the clinic?” she asked.
She studied his profile, lit from below by the lights of the dashboard. The hollows around his eyes looked deeper than they had in the restaurant.
“When I got the call, I braced for the worst, but the dog came through surgery just fine. His owner said he’d swallowed a whole chicken, but none of the bones punctured anything and I got him all cleaned up. He’ll be good as new soon.”
“Good news.” Chase was sure he was an excellent animal surgeon. This seemed like confirmation of that.
“I know the dog will be fine, but his owner isn’t—feeling guilty for not putting the thawing chicken where he couldn’t get it. After all, it could have been serious if one of the bones had lodged wrong.”
Was the owner the redhead he’d hugged on his front porch? She’d test the waters to find out.
“I suppose he would feel that way. Is he an irresponsible owner?”
“Not he, she. And no, she’s not irresponsible. This could happen to anyone. She’s usually conscientious, but she’s had a lot on her mind lately.”
The subject wasn’t mentioned again, but Chase was left wondering if Mike was merely consoling an upset dog owner, or if there was something more between them. She also couldn’t help but wonder what those arms would feel like if they were wrapped around her, instead of the spiky redhead.
Her mood shattered when Mike pulled up behind the shop to let her off at the door to her apartment stairs. Shaun Everly’s silver Boxster was idling next to the building, exhaust smoke pouring from the tailpipe in the chill air.
“What’s he doing here?” she exclaimed.
Mike gave her an alarmed look. “Is something the matter? Who is he?”
“He’s someone I knew in Chicago. Someone I never want to see again. He’s just moved to Minneapolis and, well, I wish he’d move back.”
“Is he bothering you?”
Was he? “Nothing illegal. I just don’t like the sight of him.”
“Sounds like you two have a history.”
Chase grimaced. “You could say that.” She had a fleeting memory of seeing Shaun drive off with Torvald and wondered if Shaun could possibly be involved in the man’s death.
“Do you want me to take you someplace else?”
That was a thought. A good one. “Yes, could you take me to Anna’s? He doesn’t know where she lives.”
“I don’t either, but I can take you.”
Chase was relieved. Then she thought of Quincy. “Wait, I can’t do that. I have to go in and feed my cat.”
“All right, you do that. I’ll go with you. If he’s still here when we come down, I’ll take you to Anna’s.”
“Perfect.” Chase broke into a huge smile that turned into a slight giggle. Mike was so smart!
TWENTY-FOUR
Mike walked around the car to open the door for Chase. She climbed out of the big truck, studiously avoiding a glance at Shaun’s car. His silhouette showed in the driver’s seat. The exhaust sent a plume of ghostly vapor into the frigid night air. For a fleeting moment, Chase hoped something could plug the tailpipe so Shaun would asphyxiate. She scolded herself mentally for such an awful thought. She disliked Shaun Everly immensely, but couldn’t go so far as to wish him dead.
She sensed his eyes on her as she led Mike to the rear door that served both the restaurant kitchen and the stairs to her apartment. With any luck, Shaun would assume that Mike was staying for a while and would leave.
As they mounted the stairs, Chase remembered that she’d left dishes soaking in the sink. And where had she thrown her underwear last night, or rather, early this morning after she’d left the jail?
“The place might be a mess. I had a rough night.”
They reached the landing outside her door. “What happened?” Mike asked.
Chase fumbled with her key.
“You’re shaking. Here, let me.” It was a relief to let him take the key. Somehow, it didn’t fit into the lock while she held it.
After Mike slid the door open, Chase stood where she was, sudden tears streaming down her face.
“It was awful,” she whimpered. Yes, she was breaking down, just like she knew she would. And she was only thinking of being in the pokey.
Mike herded her through the doorway, kicked it shut with his foot, and put those nice, strong arms around her. She sobbed on his shoulder for a moment, then, mortified and embarrassed, pulled away from him and ran into her bathroom.
Dabbing at her splotchy face, she frowned at herself in the mirror.