“How was your date last night?” Anna asked, as soon as Chase took care of corralling Quincy and came to help get the day started.
“Very nice.”
“I can tell from your smile.” Anna set up a racket getting out the metal baking pans.
Chase cocked her head, recalling part of her conversation with Mike. “He said that Mrs. Snelson is one of his new customers.”
“That’s our principal’s wife? Our principal who wants to do real estate scams?”
“Yes, indeed. And he was most likely being blackmailed for that. Even so, maybe he didn’t kill Ron North. He and the little guy he was with spent the night at Snelson’s house. What about Dickie Byrd? He might be a better suspect. I doubt he’ll get elected. If even I have seen him with another woman, I’ll bet a lot of other people have, too. In fact, Ron North was probably planning on blackmailing him.” She was recalling the “BIRD” on the blackmail book. It didn’t have a dollar amount next to it, but surely it would have if Ron had lived longer.
Mallory and Inger arrived at the same time, bringing a burst of frigid air in with them from the parking lot.
Chase sniffed the air. It smelled moist, like it might snow soon.
“You’re both early,” Anna said.
“It’s been so crazy,” Inger said, “I thought I would get a head start.”
“Here are the trays of dessert bars for the case.” Anna pulled some from the refrigerator and Mallory and Inger both started carrying them to the front.
The morning wore on with a few deliveries and lots of customers. After Chase and Anna got several batches of bars baked, filling the shop with the aromas of cinnamon, lemon, and cherry—which blended surprisingly well—Chase decided to get started on payroll. Monday was the fifteenth and she would pay Mallory and Inger then.
She greeted Quincy with a head rub as he jumped up onto the desk, settling beside her keyboard. She toiled over the tax tables and state forms for an hour, then stood, ready for lunch. Quincy jumped down and dislodged a business card he’d been lying on top of.
“What’s this?” Chase bent down to pick it up. “Vita Life for a Vital Life,” she read, puzzling over it. Then she turned the card over and saw a name and room number. She remembered it now. This was the card Bart Fender had given to Julie at the reunion. Julie had handed it to Chase and Chase had ended up taking it home. Where had it been until today, a week later?
“Quincy Wincy, did you hide this somewhere? You naughty boy.” He was developing a habit of secreting away what must be treasures to him. Maybe he was part dog. Or squirrel.
Bart had told Julie that Dillon would like visitors, but the women who had been talking about her said she was in a coma. Chase remembered Dillon as a volleyball player, clean cut and always bouncy. The women said she had attempted suicide. That didn’t square with the cheerful pony-tailed blonde whom Chase remembered. Maybe she and Julie should look in on her and at least find out what was going on. Bart had said something enigmatic about her parents in the shop, too. This was a small mystery, and Chase liked to solve mysteries. She would call Julie tonight and propose they visit on Monday after Julie got home from work.
When Chase went out front so Inger could have lunch, she saw a few lazy flakes circling toward the pavement outside. She hadn’t checked a weather report for days, but Mallory assured her that several inches were expected. Chase had filled a watering can in the kitchen and bent to water the poinsettias. Their leaves had started to curl slightly, so they should welcome a drink. She hoped they would stay pretty until Christmas.
“If it starts accumulating, we’ll send you home,” Chase said, looking out the windows again. “You and Inger. There’s no reason for you to have to battle the roads before they’re plowed.”
Mallory gave her a grateful smile. She had been smiling at the customers more, but Chase thought she forgot about it sometimes, especially when she was rushed and got harried.
A woman in a bright red cloth coat came in and stomped the flakes off her shiny black boots. Her nose and cheeks were almost as red as her coat. Black curly hair framed her round face. After she’d perused the goods in the case and picked out a mix of Lemon and Peanut Butter Fudge Bars, she struck up a conversation with Mallory, who had greeted the woman with a friendly smile that had been returned. Chase nodded to herself when she saw that.
“I’m so glad I found this place. We’re entertaining tonight and Van wanted a nice dessert.”
“How did you hear about us?” Mallory asked.
Chase was listening in, curious about the mention of “Van.” Was she the principal’s wife? This woman was the only customer in the store at the moment, so Chase helped bag her choices.
“I found you online,” she said. “I searched for desserts and your webpage popped up. It’s so attractive and the pictures look delicious.”
“I’ll have to let our web designer know,” Chase said. She would also let Anna know that the efforts she’d been against were paying off.
Anna hurried into the salesroom with some filled boxes to restock the dwindling supplies on the round tables.
“My husband wants to make a good impression tonight. It’s for a job.”
Chase snuck a peek at her credit card when she handed it over the counter to Mallory. Sure enough, her last name was Snelson. “Are you related to Van Snelson?” Chase asked.
She nodded, beaming with a proud smile.
“He was my principal at Hammond High,” Chase said. “I saw him at the reunion last weekend. Were you there?”
“No, no, I didn’t go. He said he would be busy talking to important people.” She frowned to emphasize how important those people were.
“He spent a lot of time with Mr. Hail, the real estate developer.”
“Yes, yes.” She brightened. “Van is going into real estate. Langton Hail has been advising him. Langton knows a lot about it. In fact, they spent the rest of the night together and Van didn’t come home until the next morning.”
Hm, that wasn’t exactly the story she had told the detective. “Is he going to resign as principal?” Chase asked.
“Oh my.” The woman’s hand flew to her cherry-red cheek. “That’s not . . . I’m not . . . He hasn’t announced anything yet.”
Anna gave Mrs. Snelson a curious glance, then retreated to the kitchen.
“Don’t worry,” Chase said. “I won’t tell anyone.” Except Detective Olson.
Mrs. Snelson signed the bill and took the bag Mallory handed to her. “These will be perfect. They’ll love them. I’ll be buying more soon.” She left with a cheery wave, her faux pas forgotten.
The snow was coming down thicker and the wind was picking up, swirling the flakes in mad, intricate, dizzying patterns.
Chase wished she could see a pattern that led to the real killer of Ron North.
SIXTEEN
In the next hour, so much snow fell that the street blended with the sidewalk, the curbs lost beneath the fluff. Chase and Anna sent Mallory and Inger home while the roads were still passable.