“He thought it was worth killing for, Chase. He admitted to the police that he had strangled a woman behind the booths before they drove him away. Now I know it was the travel agent,” Mike said. “He was raving that I had seen him kill her and that he would get rid of me, too.”
“How can someone not care a bit about others? How could Hardin strangle her when all she did was tell people what he had told her?”
“He doesn’t care about anyone. Just about himself.”
“So there actually were two murders here. And two murderers.” Chase shuddered violently and Mike squeezed her shoulders.
They rejoined the few people left on this side of the arena, Anna and Inger among them.
“Could we keep Shadow for a day or two?” Inger appealed to Chase and Anna as soon as she saw them.
“Inger,” Anna said. “Do you know the Aronoffs?”
“I know Peter, mostly.” She looked at her feet.
“How on earth do you know him?” As soon as she said it, Chase remembered how Inger had searched the homeless shelter and that the cook had mentioned a young man. She also remembered Ivan saying he and his son were homeless after Peter had lost his job with Picky Puss. “The homeless shelter?” Chase asked.
“Yes, I met him there, delivering our dessert bars. Peter is crazy about the Harvest Bars. I didn’t want to say anything. It’s too soon after Zack died. Isn’t it? But Peter was so nice to me.”
Anna put a hand on Inger’s shoulder. She raised her chin up with the other hand. “Inger, you need to do what’s best for you.”
Chase wasn’t sure Peter Aronoff was the best for her. Given her nutty on-again-off-again parents, though, it would be nice if someone else were looking after her. But maybe someone who wasn’t homeless and whose father wasn’t a murderer.
“Peter has a new job and they haven’t been in the shelter for a couple of weeks, he said.” She looked down again. “I talked to him today for a long time.” She turned tear-filled eyes to Chase. “He’s awfully upset about his father right now. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do about that whole mess.”
“Did he know his father killed Oake?” Anna said.
“He thought his father knew where the stolen collar was, but he didn’t really know about the murder. Not for long. He suspected but didn’t admit it to himself.”
“He should have turned him in as soon as realized what he had done.” Chase wondered if he would be charged with obstructing justice.
“He did give the police an anonymous tip about the collar.” Inger turned on Chase. “Would you do that?” Her words were impassioned. “To your own father? Could you really do that?”
Chase didn’t know.
THIRTY
“Go, go!” urged Inger. “You’ll be late.” It was near closing time and only three customers lingered in the Bar None. Inger had been explaining the blue ribbon to them. She did it several times a day, but she said she didn’t get tired of it. The picture Chase had snapped of Quincy in the Babe the Blue Ox costume was taped to the display case next to the ribbon.
Anna and Chase both felt it would be wrong to display the Picky Puss Cat Food bags in the shop, the ones featuring Quincy all dolled up in the diamond collar. Five different images of him, in various poses, graced the bags.
He had loved the photo shoot, Chase thought. Dozens of people fussed and fawned over him, and he purred nonstop. He even hammed it up when they shot the television ads. The one Chase liked best started with an empty metal bowl. You then saw Picky Puss kibble cascading into it. The camera panned out and left the kitchen, took the viewer through a living room and a front hallway, up the stairs, down a narrow hallway, and into a bedroom where Quincy lay in regal splendor on a gray silk cat bed, wearing, of course, the collar. Throughout the camera’s journey, the sound of pouring, clattering kibble grew fainter and fainter. But when the camera—and presumably the sound, or maybe the smell—reached Quincy, his head shot up and he leapt out of the cat bed, reversed the route, and ended up chowing down in the kitchen.
The final product, which Chase had seen, but which hadn’t aired yet, looked like one continuous shot. But it had been dozens of takes pieced together with fake partial rooms. Also, Quincy had refused to touch the Picky Puss food. Chase had brought some Kitty Patties with her, just in case, and the crew buried them beneath the dry food. Only then would Quincy enthusiastically dive in.
Chase looked at the clock behind the counter in the shop. “You’re right, Inger. I’d better get changed. Do you need Anna to help out?”
“No, I’ll clean out the cases. She’s busy in the kitchen.”
Inger radiated the glow of motherhood. Now that she was seeing Dr. Ingersoll and taking prenatal supplements, Chase and Anna worried about her much less. She was back living with her parents, but was moving into her own apartment in a week. She had gone out with Peter on official dates twice, but seemed to be cooling toward him. Or was that wishful thinking on Chase’s part? Peter had Shadow with him in his own apartment now. Chase had kept him for three days, but Shadow and Quincy were not the best of friends. Quincy had kept Shadow pinned down under Chase’s bed most of that time.
Inger had seen the therapist Mike recommended but had “graduated” from therapy after only a few sessions.
Chase took off her smock in the kitchen and put it in the basket of soiled linens. Anna was putting away the baking pans and utensils she had washed. Quincy was on counter patrol, inspecting for stray crumbs. Julie came in through the back door.
Chase paused a moment to take it all in.
Her shop. Her own shop. Hers and Anna’s. She was living the life she wanted to live, making delectable treats that made people happy. And she had the best family and the best pet in the world.
“I only have a minute,” Julie said. “Jay and I are on our way to a movie. Anna, you wanted to show me something?”
“I want to show both of you.” Anna reached into her apron pocket and pulled out an envelope. “I got this today.” She tossed it on the island countertop. The envelope was plastered with colorful stamps. The name in the upper left corner was Elsa Oake.
“Where is she?” asked Julie, picking up the envelope and extracting a sheet of paper.
“Read it,” Anna said.
Chase extracted two photos from the envelope as Julie read:
Elsie and I decided we love Costa Rica. The place Larry rented is perfect. We’ve decided to buy it. We sent for Grey and want to stay here for a few months a year, or maybe year-round. Any time you want to come down and visit, we’d love to have you. Bring Quincy if you can.
“Let’s see the pictures,” Anna said. Chase showed them one of Lady Jane Grey against a jungle background, her leg securely fastened to a perch. The other was of Elsa and Eleanor—which was which was anyone’s guess—on an impossibly white beach, surrounded by gentle waves from an aquamarine sea, backed by a matching cloudless sky, and swaying palm trees.
“Maybe we should visit,” Julie said.
“With Chase’s new website drawing in a record amount of business, we might be able to afford it.”
When Chase had finally shown the website to Anna on Tuesday, after sending the remaining dessert bar photos to Tanner Monday night, Anna was thrilled.
“This is beautiful,” she said, clicking through the pages. She grinned at Chase. “So this is why you took all those pictures.”
Chase had had no trouble getting her to agree to pay Tanner from the Bar None account, which was nice and healthy after selling so much at the fair.