The striped cat struggled with the harness. He was able to detect that one of the clips wasn’t properly seated. He was also terrified of the screaming children. There were bushes straight ahead. He should be able to slip out of the horrible contraption and hide in the bushes. He had to get away from those noises. He contorted his body and the thing snapped open.
“Oh no, there he goes,” Chase cried. She shook the harness that she was left holding. “Maybe I can entice him to come out.”
The bushes he had fled into were dense. There could be all kinds of bugs in there, she knew. She wasn’t about to crawl into the undergrowth. It would be better if he would come out by himself.
She opened the baggie of Go Go Balls and tossed one into the growth.
“Quincy?” she called. “Quincy Wincy?”
“I’ll try,” Mike said, getting onto his hands and knees. “He probably won’t want to stay there. There’s nothing to eat.”
That was true, thought Chase. Only one little Go Go Ball. She pulled some more of them from the baggie and scattered them on the pavement.
Mike pushed the branches aside and crawled a few steps, then quickly backed out. “Call the police.” His face was grim.
Chase bent down to peer into the undergrowth. Mike put his hand on her arm. “No, you don’t want to look at that.”
Her eyes widened. “What is it? A dead animal?”
“No, it’s a dead human.”
“Are you sure the person is dead?” She dove into the bushes in case they could revive whoever it was.
It was dark and dank inside the bushes. But she could see clearly. Quincy squatted on the other side of the body. It was Ron North, and he was definitely dead. It looked like he had been strangled with Julie’s scarf. Quincy had raked some peanuts from Ron’s pocket and was crunching them.
Chase crawled out as quickly as she could and threw up in a nearby bush while Mike dialed 911.
Ron North.
Dead.
Julie’s scarf.
Oh no.
FIVE
Hours later, after Chase had let Anna know she wouldn’t be at the shop anytime soon, after the crime scene technicians had left, and after she and Mike had answered countless questions over and over, Chase sat on the curb next to Mike. The yellow tape fluttered a dozen feet away. Traffic was still being routed down another street, so the rumble of cars was distant. The children were no longer on the playground. Worried parents had grabbed them all and taken them home as soon as the first police car showed up.
Detective Niles Olson hadn’t come to the scene, but Chase had no doubt the homicide detective would get involved. When Quincy and Chase found dead bodies in the past—only two, though—the good-looking policeman with those impossibly dark blue eyes always turned up on the case.
“I don’t have the energy to walk home,” Chase said.
“You want me to get my car? My condo isn’t far from here.”
Chase shook her head. “No, I’m exaggerating. I’ll make it. That was grueling, though.” She giggled, inappropriately. “Grueling grilling, right? At least neither of us is a suspect.” Her thoughts returned to Julie’s scarf and what its presence at the crime scene implied.
Mike slipped an arm around her shoulder and gave her a squeeze. “Bad luck follows that cat, doesn’t it? He’s not even black.”
Chase leaned into him, grateful he was here, next to her, at this awful time. Quincy sat next to Chase, his harness securely fastened this time. He wrapped his tail around his front feet to keep them warm.
“He’s been extremely patient, hasn’t he?” she said.
“Considering that, on a normal day, he probably sleeps fifteen to twenty hours, this isn’t that much of a disruption.”
“Except there’s been a lot of commotion.” She stroked his soft back. He arched it to meet her hand and purred his appreciation. “Poor little Quince. I’d better get you home.”
“You should get to work, shouldn’t you?”
“Gosh, yes. I hope they haven’t needed me too much. I’m sure the Bar None is busy today.” Saturdays and Sundays were always busy, and, nearing the holidays, business picked up more and more every weekend.
Mike stood and gave Chase a hand up. “You called Anna, but have you called Julie?”
“I need to figure out what to say.” How could she tell her that her scarf had been used to strangle Ron North?
Mike gave her a curious look, probably wondering why she couldn’t tell everything to her best friend, and they walked away from the park. At the point where Mike could veer off and head to his condo, Chase insisted she would go the rest of the way to the Bar None by herself. It was only a few more blocks.
As soon as Chase walked into the kitchen through the back door, Anna ran to her and gave her a hug. “What happened? You said you had to answer some questions for the police? What kind of questions? You’ve been gone for hours.”
Chase sagged onto a stool, propped her elbows on the counter, and stuck her chin on her hands. Anna knelt to take Quincy’s harness off. “How did he do?” she asked. “And I want to hear all about the reunion. Julie’s told me a little bit, but—”
Chase raised an eyebrow at her pet. “He found another body.”
“He what? You didn’t say anything about a body.” Anna perched on the stool next to Chase and smoothed the younger woman’s hair with a worn, wrinkled hand. It felt warm and wonderful to Chase. Anna must have been baking, because the gentle scent of vanilla wafted from her.
“I couldn’t talk about it right then on the phone. A man was strangled and was left in the bushes at Marcy Park. Quincy, of course, wouldn’t leave it alone. Probably because Ron’s pockets are . . . were . . . always stuffed with peanuts. You know Quincy and food.”
Julie came out of the bathroom.
“I didn’t know you were here,” Chase said. She realized she’d heard the toilet flush and the water running. She had assumed either Inger or Mallory were there.
“Anna said you were having a problem and I came over to help out.”
“Was it a homeless person?” Anna asked.
“Was what a homeless person?” Julie said.
“No, it’s Ron North.” Chase said.
“You know him?” Anna said.
“Ron North? What about him?” Julie’s voice was soft.
In high school, Julie hadn’t told very many people how distraught she was by Ron’s stalking. She had kept it from Anna, telling only Chase and another best friend, who moved away right after high school. Even with Chase, Julie hadn’t liked to say his name. They called him The Stalking Guy.
Chase told Anna and Julie now about how he’d been killed, but failed to mention that the weapon was Julie’s scarf. She could only imagine what Julie would think when she heard that. She hadn’t told the police that she knew who the scarf belonged to either but knew she would have to eventually. She shuddered, picturing the disappointment in Detective Olson’s eyes when he found she’d concealed that fact. She must tell him very soon. Meanwhile, she had a business to help run.
In her apartment above the Bar None shop that evening, she decided to go over everything she could remember about the reunion. Something was tickling the recesses of her consciousness. Something about that scarf.
She snuggled in her bed with a cup of chamomile tea, propped up with three down pillows. Quincy stretched out beside her, lying along her hips and chest. Later he would usually curl up behind her knees, after she turned onto her side. She closed her eyes, inhaling the aroma of the tea, and cast her mind back to the reunion.