Fat Cat Spreads Out (12 page)

D
istracted by worries about Inger, and wondering how on earth to go about finding her, Chase trudged up the stairs to her apartment. It was getting late. She hoped Inger had found shelter somewhere, in her condition.

The door opened wide and no one stuck a foot in it so that the cat wouldn't get out. He scampered through the opening and down the stairs, ignoring his name being called behind him. The tabby reached the bottom of the stairs, zipped through the door to the Bar None kitchen, and made a beeline for the front salesroom. When he got there, he slowed. He padded silently to the figure huddled in the corner, behind the sales counter, sobbing. He rubbed against her legs, which
were bent against her body. She was clutching her shins tightly but let go and reached one hand out to stroke the cat's soft back.

“There you are!” Chase flicked on the light switch when she heard Quincy's loud purr. Then she saw Inger. “There you
both
are.” Her voice quavered with her sudden relief.

Chase dropped to the floor beside Inger. The young woman raised her head, and Chase saw that her gray eyes were red-rimmed, her face awash in tears. Chase couldn't help letting some slide down her own cheeks. She stroked Inger's curly, tangled hair and Inger leaned against her.

They sat on the floor behind the counter like that for at least fifteen minutes.

Someone rapped on the front window. Chase jumped up but couldn't see outside. The lights inside threw her own reflection back at her and obscured whoever was knocking against the glass. She flicked off the light, gave herself a few seconds to adjust, then walked to the front.

The person outside was lit from behind, but Chase could tell it was Julie. She unlocked the door and let her in, being careful to keep Quincy, who had followed her, corralled.

“I saw the light and thought I'd better check to make sure everything is okay. You're not supposed to be open now.” Julie bent to rub Quincy's head. “Jay and I had dinner, then talked and talked. Do you mind if I come up?”

Chase hesitated and threw a glance behind her. Inger was still on the floor, out of sight.

“Is something wrong?” Julie started to look alarmed.

“No, no, nothing's wrong with me. Our employee, Inger, is having some problems.”

“I'll be all right, Ms. Oliver.” Inger rose, sniffing daintily, and appeared behind the counter. She clutched the edge of it with white knuckles.

“Let's all go upstairs and get something warm to drink,” Chase said, rushing to stand beside Inger in case she fell. She looked so wobbly on her feet.

“Oh dear.” Julie, who had no idea what was happening, came to the counter and pushed Inger's blonde curls out of her wan face. A few strands stuck to her damp cheeks and Julie swiped at those, too.

When they reached the apartment, Inger staggered to a stool in the kitchen. “You'll need something to eat, I suspect,” Chase said. “Have you had anything since breakfast?”

“I didn't really have anything then.”

Chase whipped up a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and put it on a plate with some carrot sticks. From the way Inger wolfed everything down, Chase wondered if she had eaten yesterday. She put another sandwich together.

Julie had been heating up some cider while Chase made the sandwiches. She nudged Chase in the side. “Inger, you don't look too steady on the stool,” she said, nodding toward the living room. Chase took the hint and helped Inger off her precarious seat.

After they were all three seated in the living room with mugs of hot apple cider, Quincy stood on the floor, looking from lap to lap. His tail twitched twice, then he jumped
into Inger's. It heartened Chase to see her smile down on the little guy.

“Inger is having some family problems,” Chase told Julie, not knowing if she should air them in front of Julie. She looked at Inger, who nodded.

“It's okay. You can tell her,” Inger mumbled, taking quick sips of the cider, and keeping her eyes on Quincy.

“I . . . I'm not sure what's going on myself, Inger. When I couldn't call you today, I went to your house. Your parents said you were missing.”

“Why should I tell them where I go and what I do? They don't care.”

Chase had a feeling she was right. It still made her heart ache to hear Inger say it. “Did you have a quarrel?”

“Kind of. I'm trying to pick names for my baby. So, over the last few days, I've been looking at names online and collected a few that I like. At breakfast today I tried to ask my parents which ones they like. They don't even care. Not one little bit.”

Inger snuffled and Chase ran to the kitchen to get her a tissue. Inger swiped at her nose and looked Chase in the eyes. “They just ate their stupid oatmeal and went off to work. They always have oatmeal. I hate oatmeal. I can't live with them. I hate them.” Chase saw the deep, raw emotion in her eyes. How could her parents treat her that way?

“They're still mad at me for getting pregnant. They don't say it in so many words. But they do other hateful things.”

Quincy, who wasn't getting petted at the moment, looked up at Inger. She smiled down and resumed stroking. “You're so cute, Quincy. I wish I had a cat.”

“Chase, can I talk to you for a moment?” Julie motioned Chase into the kitchen. She pulled her to the corner and whispered, “She can't stay with those horrible people. Can you keep her here?”

“Until her baby comes? That's a long time.”

“I know, but I think she needs some therapy, and Quincy is giving it to her.”

Chase looked into her living room. Inger's head was bent over the cat again, and she could hear his purr from where she stood. “I suppose I could give it a try. I do agree that the atmosphere in her house is terrible.”

“Did they seem worried about her?”

“Well, yes, they did. But they don't know any of her friends and didn't even know my name. I think they barely know where she's working.”

Julie rubbed her chin. “I'll tell you what. I'm staying at Anna's while those murder suspects are there—”

“Only one is a suspect.”

“True. But that's one too many. Anyway, my condo is empty. She could stay there if this doesn't work out.”

“This is all temporary. You're not moving in with Anna, are you?”

“No, not forever. Let's do this for now. Let her stay here for a bit. I think the poor girl could use Quincy's pet therapy.”

Chase nodded. Who knew what would happen over the next few days? She could leave Quincy in the apartment and not have to keep him in the cage at the fair. This would work very well until after Sunday, when the fair ended.

Then Inger could stay at Julie's, or maybe they would
find another place for her. She might even find her own place. Inger was so depressed, and Chase thought that if she roused from that, she would be able to function better.

That night, Chase gave Inger her own bed and slept on the couch. She loved her leather couch, but in the morning decided she loved it for sitting and for lounging only, not for sleeping. The blankets kept slipping around on the slick leather. She woke up once with her face plastered against the cushion. Her hair was sweaty and sticky and she had drooled on the seat. Maybe she should have gotten a suede couch. The covers might have stayed in place then.

In the morning, she stumbled through making coffee. Inger emerged from the bedroom as it finished brewing. She looked sick.

“Oh dear, is that coffee?” She ran into the bathroom to throw up.

When Inger returned to the kitchen, Chase asked her what she'd like for breakfast.

“Do you have tea and toast?”

“Yes, indeed.” Chase stuck two pieces of bread into the toaster. I have Earl Grey and Irish Breakfast.” She rummaged in the cupboard for more jasmine tea, but she must have finished it up last night.

“No green tea?”

Chase held down her irritation and her thoughts:
Don't you think I would have mentioned it if I had it?
“I have Earl Grey and Irish Breakfast tea,” she repeated. “Do you eat whole wheat toast?”

“Not usually. But it's okay. I can eat it today. I'll take the Irish Breakfast.”

Chase put the breakfast together hastily and left as soon as she could. Before she could discover that Inger didn't like the brand of margarine she used. The last thing she had expected was that Inger would be a difficult houseguest. She had to admit, she herself was extra crabby from sleeping on the uncomfortable couch.

This was Thursday. The fair would be over Sunday. She could put up with Inger for four days. After that, other arrangements would have to be made. She hoped the Wisconsin women with their bird would be gone from Anna's and that Julie would be back in her own place by then.

A
s Chase walked toward her booth with two cups of steaming coffee for her and Anna, just before opening time, she passed the travel agency booth and heard sobbing from inside. She paused for a moment.

“Do you need any help?” she asked, taking one tentative step inside.

The cute short redhead blinked at Chase, tears streaming down her freckled cheeks. “My mother called just as I was leaving. Couldn't get her calmed down.” She looked between her partner and Chase. “She's prone to fake heart attacks. All I can do is talk to her until she thinks she's over it.”

“Another visit to the emergency room?” asked the blonde, who had just arrived.

“No, I convinced her to see her regular doctor later
today.” The redhead dashed a hand at her tears and leaned down to retrieve some pamphlets from a box. “But, somehow, it always makes me feel guilty when she does this and I don't rush to be with her.”

“She's manipulating you,” the tall blonde said, patting her partner's shoulder. She wore a ring on each finger again.

“What if she does go to the hospital? I don't want to leave you alone here.”

The blonde shrugged. “You do what you have to do, Holly. If you think you have to go to her, then . . .”

The redhead smiled and the storm seemed over.

“Will you be all right?” Chase asked. She felt like a fifth wheel, standing at their booth, learning secrets she had no business knowing.

“Thanks for being concerned.” The redhead seemed recovered. “She's right.” She nodded at her partner. “I'll just do what I have to do.”

“I hope your day goes well,” Chase called as she went toward her own booth with the coffee. The blonde, as usual, was wearing a lot of bling. Did that mean she really, really liked diamonds? Would she be tempted to steal a diamond collar?

Chase and Anna got a chance to gulp down most of the strong coffee before the customers started coming.

When there was a break at the Bar None booth shortly before lunchtime, Chase ran down to talk with Mike. Luckily, he had no patients in the clinic.

“I know you're not a people doctor,” Chase began.

“I am definitely not a people doctor.” He continued putting stainless steel gizmos into the sterilizer.

“But people are mammals.”

He turned to face her. “It's a question of licensing and legalities.”

“Like in losing your license, right?”

“Among other things.” He went back to preparing the machine, twisting dials and pushing buttons.

“But you could never lose your license from anything you told me.”

“Come on. Sit down and tell me what your problem is.” He waved her to a chair in the corner and pulled one up facing her as the autoclave began to hiss.

The glossy black cat hissed, too.

Mike chuckled. “He does that every time I run it. It annoys him, I think. Okay, what do you need?”

“It's my houseguest, Inger.”

“Yes? Isn't she seeing a doctor? An ob-gyn?”

“She saw someone at a clinic. I don't know if she'll go back—I hope so. But she needs another kind. I'm not sure exactly which kind.”

“Because?”

“She's depressed. At least that's what I think.”

“How is she behaving?”

“Weepy, sad, and she's hard to get along with.” Chase gritted her teeth as she said the last part.

Mike reached over and took Chase's hand. “Try to imagine what she's going through. She's alone in the world, about to have a child. She probably has no idea what to do with it once it's born. Her parents aren't any help at all. In fact, they're piling on top of her problem stack, from what little you've told me. Wouldn't you be a little cranky?”

“Yes, of course. But I think she's having trouble coping and could need some professional help.”

“You might be right about that. Let me call around tonight and see if I can find someone for her to see.”

“Someone who doesn't cost much.”

“Yes, I agree.”

As she strolled back to the booth, munching on a taco from the food court, it occurred to her that she didn't have a good excuse anymore to see Dr. Ramos during the day, since Quincy wasn't there. She wasn't exactly glad that Inger was having problems, but it at least gave her a reason to visit him.

As she approached the booth, she saw Detective Olson walk inside it. She waited outside, quietly, behind the opening flap, to see what he wanted. She could see his back as he looked over the displayed wares. Anna jumped up from the chair when she spotted him.

“What's the best?” he asked Anna.

He was there to buy dessert bars?

Anna suggested Hula Bars, of course, and pointed out the Pink Lemonade Bars and the Margarita Cheesecake. He asked for two Hula Bars and one each of the other two. He was buying treats, all right, but Chase didn't think that's why he was there.

“Is Ms. Oliver around?” he asked.

“She's out for a few minutes. She'll be right back.”

Chase moved back a step to be sure Anna couldn't see her.

“Good,” he said. “I want to talk to you.”

Chase almost dropped her taco. Why on earth did he
want to question Anna? He couldn't believe she had anything to do with Larry Oake's death.

“It's come to my attention that you're housing one of our . . . a person of interest in the Oake murder case.”

Was he about to say Elsa was a suspect?

Anna must have nodded because Chase didn't hear an answer.

“I want to make sure,” he continued, his voice so low Chase had to strain to hear the words, “that you know to be very careful.”

“Careful about what?” Anna sounded alarmed.

“Careful in case she's dangerous.”

“To me? Why would she be dangerous to me?”

“Let's say that I don't think it's a good idea for her to be staying with you.”

“But she can't find a hotel that will take a parrot.”

“Huh?”

Chase almost giggled. She could picture the puzzlement on his normally composed, self-assured, clean-cut face.

“Her sister brought Elsa's parrot, Lady Jane Grey, when she came from Wisconsin.”

“Lady Jane Grey?” He seemed to drawl and sneer a bit when he repeated the name.

“I think it's a fine name.” Anna was bristling, Chase could tell. “She's an African Grey.”

“Uh-huh. But that's quite an imposition on you, isn't it?”

“Not really. I'm not there most of the day.”

“What do I owe you?” Chase heard the rustle of a paper bag.

“Oh, for the dessert bars? They're on the house.”

It sounded like he was leaving, so Chase sauntered into the booth. Maybe she could find out if he knew about the Minskys. Detective Olson handed Anna a few bills. She tried to wave them away, but he put them on the table.

“Hi, Detective Olson. It's good to see you. You like those Hula Bars?”

“I don't know. I haven't tried them yet. They look good. I'm glad you're back.” He motioned to a uniformed policewoman standing in the midway. “Since you're both here at the same time, it makes this easier. I'm very sorry, but we have to do this.”

Before Chase could even open her mouth to protest, the policewoman had thoroughly patted her down. Detective Olson and another policeman who had materialized out of nowhere proceeded to open and go through every box in the booth. After the woman patted Anna down, she left and the other uniform left shortly afterward. They were extremely efficient in their search. It had taken only a few minutes.

Chase caught her breath and got her mind into gear before Detective Olson could follow them out to the midway. “Wait just a minute. Am I a suspect now? Why are you searching me and Anna now?”

He paused. “We got a new anonymous tip on the valuable article that's missing. It might still be on the fairgrounds. We're not just searching you, we're searching everyone. Keep your eyes open and you'll see that.” He started to walk away again.

Chase was getting annoyed. “Wait. I want to talk to you about Karl Minsky. And his daughter.”

“Mara.”

“Yes.”

“Did you know that he quarreled with Larry Oake the morning of the murder?”

“Why do you think that?” Those dark blue eyes narrowed at her. Did he not believe her?

It was Chase's turn to bristle. “I'm not just trying to get Dr. Ramos off the hook. I talked to Minsky and his daughter the other day. She was very upset because it happened outside the exhibition hall. She's afraid a lot of people might have seen them, and I'll bet she's right.”

He looked upward for a second, considering. “I think we'll look into that. Thanks for the information.”

After he left, Chase let her breath out. Maybe something would come of questioning the Minskys that could clear Mike. She sure hoped so.