Джанет Кантрелл - Fat Cat Takes The Cake

ELEVEN

When Bill came over to keep Anna company that evening after the shop closed, Chase stayed to watch Anna practice. She was becoming more and more invested in Anna winning the contest. For about half a minute she considered mentioning her lunch date tomorrow, but decided against that. She needed counsel from someone, but not from Anna when Bill was there. After all, they were getting very close to their wedding day. How could she bother them with relationship issues now? No, she couldn’t.

“Chase,” Bill said to her as Anna clattered her measuring cups and spoons onto the counter. “What do you know about Julie and this murder business?”

Anna raised her head quickly, lines forming between her eyebrows.

“Not much. It looks like Ron was strangled with her scarf and the police won’t let go of that. I know”—or was pretty sure—“that she never had her scarf again after he took it.” Chase opened the cupboard and got out the mixing bowls Anna would need.

“So,” Anna said, turning her back to the counter for a moment, “the victim had it. Ron North had the scarf and whoever killed him got it from—what, a pocket or something?”

“I saw him stuff it into his pocket,” Chase said. “His hip pocket.”

“It could have even fallen out,” Bill said, taking a seat on one of the stools. “Anyone could have picked it up.”

“Julie told me she went outside to meet Bart Fender.” Anna spoke slowly. “In the parking lot. He asked for legal advice.” Anna’s voice dropped and cracked. “Ron North was there, too. But she’s told the police she didn’t see either one of them, that she wasn’t in the parking lot. She’s lying to the police.” Anna’s fists were clenched, wrinkling her apron.

Chase could tell that Anna was getting more and more distraught by the discussion, so she started asking her questions about her baking procedure for the contest, and they quit talking about Julie.

• • •

Julie called laterthat night, after Anna and Bill left. Chase was upstairs, thinking about getting ready for bed. She grabbed the phone, muting the sitcom she was watching.

“Well, can you tell me anything?” Chase asked, eager for the details. “Have the police finally admitted you didn’t do the crime?”

“Not that I know of.”

“They at least know you didn’t have that scarf, right?”

“Right. But someone told them that I went out to the parking lot after Ron left. I went out there because Bart Fender wanted to ask me a legal question, one that I’m not qualified to handle. So I followed him out, but came right back in. I saw Ron there, so I suppose I could have gotten the scarf from him then.”

“But you didn’t! Who on earth said that?”

“I don’t think they would have told me if I’d asked. Maybe Bart.”

“Did you learn anything today that sheds light on the murder?”

“I think I did, actually. Not from Hilda Bjorn. Not yet. But I’ve been going through those copied pages you gave me, from Ron’s notebook.”

“Have you figured out the code?”

“No, not the code. I decided to read the other stuff, his notes for stories he intended to write up.”

“It was awfully hard to read his writing,” Chase said.

“It was, but I’ve been working at it for the last hour or so. It looks like he was doing a story on the school board. He thought some money was being misspent. He interviewed the principal and did some background investigating on him. If I’m reading this right, he suspected that Mr. Snelson was misappropriating funds. It doesn’t help that Ron’s spelling is atrocious. Anyway, he also happened upon the fact that Mr. Snelson, along with a big-time developer, Langton Hail, had petitioned the city for a zoning change. They planned to build a large apartment complex on Hilda Bjorn’s block, Ron’s notes say.”

“So the two of them were in it together? Snelson and Hail?”

“Apparently they planned to buy every house on the block.”

“For almost nothing?”

“That’s about it. Ron’s notes say ‘less than half their value’— his words.”

Chase needed to get over there and ask Ms. Bjorn’s next-door neighbor, Professor Fear, if he had gotten an offer from one of them. “So the short guy, Langton Hail, is on the school board and is a developer?”

“Appears that way.”

“I wonder if Mr. Snelson is really going to quit his job as principal.”

“He’s been there forever,” Julie said. “I’m sure sorry I took on the pro bono, though. The news is starting to report things about the apartment complex. No names yet, but that there are definitely shady dealings. The people at work are giving me dirty looks, like I’m part of that.”

“That’s not fair. Can you tell them that you’re not involved in the land deal?”

“I’ve tried. Some of them don’t believe me. I’m new there and they don’t know me. There’s been some innuendo in a newspaper column. I never read it, but one of our secretaries mentioned that to me. And this is without Ron North writing about it. I’ll be glad to get all of this over with.”

After the call ended, Chase studied her pages of Ron’s notebook, reconsidering the coded sections. Principal and developer, doing dirty deeds. Eminently blackmailable.

There—she had it! PRINCE was the principal, so PHOTO was the developer. These were the two who both had amounts by their names. Rather large amounts, in fact. They must have been paying Ron not to print the real estate story. A real estate scam and embezzlement from two prominent school board members. Wow. Was the J there because he was planning to try to blackmail Julie, too?

Ron hadn’t gotten any money from BIRD, but Chase would bet that was Dickie Byrd, and that it would only have been a matter of time before he had been forced to hand some cash over to Ron. Julie had seen Snelson hand something to Ron at the reunion, but Hail hadn’t paid that night. Sure enough, there was one more entry for Snelson than for Hail. So was he blackmailing Snelson also for the school board funds and not Hail? Did Snelson have twice the motive to murder Ron?

She had figured out the parts in blue ink. She nuzzled Quincy’s head with her nose. “I did it, Quince.” Except for the J that was lightly penciled into the blackmail section.

It was too late to call Julie back. She turned her attention to the pink entries. What she thought of as the Stalking Section. She was pretty sure that M was Monique and J was Julie. But there was also a D. Whoever that was.

The next morning, Anna was dragging. “Too many late nights for me,” she said to Chase as they put out the dessert bars for the day. “I’ll be so glad when the Batter Battle is over.”

“You will be.” Chase gave her a smile. “Because you’re going to win it.”

Anna sighed. “I sure hope I can at least hold my own against that nasty Grace Pilsen. I’d like to know what her entry is.”

“What good would that do you?”

“Then I’d know if I need to be concerned about losing or not.”

“I suppose.” Chase was doubtful that would be any help. And it didn’t matter, since there was no way to find out what Grace’s recipe was.

She waited until midmorning to ask Anna if she thought it would be okay to take lunch out. Her hope was that they would be too busy and she’d have to call Eddie and cancel. No such luck. For once, the doldrums hit the salesroom and stayed all morning.

“Go ahead,” Anna said. “I baked some extra last night since I was here, so I can help with sales if they pick up. Are you doing something exciting? Seeing Mike?”

“No, meeting a high school friend.”

“It’s that Eddie person again, isn’t it? The man who doesn’t like our products.”