Джанет Кантрелл - Fat Cat Takes The Cake

As she was counting change for one of the regulars, Mrs. Cray, she saw Mr. Snelson walk past on the sidewalk. She must have stared at him, because Mrs. Cray turned around to see what was getting Chase’s attention.

“Oh, Mr. Snelson,” she said. “He’s quite a character.”

“You know him?” Chase asked.

“Why, yes. I clean the high school, you know.”

“No, I didn’t. How long have you been doing that?” The last Chase knew, Mrs. Cray was cleaning offices at the university.

“I started this year. Mrs. Snelson got me the job. She works in the office at the U, you know.”

Chase didn’t know that either, but was more interested in what Mrs. Cray knew about the principal. She would not have to ask, though. Mrs. Cray was the chatty sort.

“It was kind of strange last weekend. There was that big thing, you know. The reunion.”

Chase nodded. She did know that.

“So they asked me to clean on Sunday instead of Saturday, my regular day. There’s one thing I don’t like about that man.”

She paused for effect while Chase waited for her to go on. “He told me on Sunday that he can’t stand teenagers. Do you believe that? I mean, I never heard such a thing. He can’t stand teenagers? Why does he have that job? That’s what I’d like to know.”

Aha, thought Chase. After all of those years confronting the pupils, dealing with truants and kids who didn’t care if they never finished school, or athletes who assumed the school owed them something, it sounded like he’d had enough. That was, no doubt, why he was getting into real estate.

That evening, Mike rang the bell at the rear door before the tidying-up in the kitchen was completed.

“Oh, there’s Mike, Anna,” Chase said. “He’s early.”

Anna grinned. “I’m glad you’re back with him. There’s something about that other—” She stopped short as Mike strolled in.

“Ready?” he asked.

“I can be in two minutes. Have a seat and a leftover Lemon Chiffon Bar.”

Mike hoisted himself onto a stool and Anna set the goodie on a paper towel in front of him. She was asking him if he’d like lemonade with that as Chase ran up the stairs to pass a brush through her hair, wriggle into a clean pair of jeans, slip on a fresh sweater, and swish some mouthwash. She found herself humming “Tonight” from West Side Story and realized she was truly happy she wouldn’t be eating vegan food tonight, to say nothing of being with Mike.

The Italian food at Mike’s discovered restaurant was perfect. Or maybe it was so delicious because of her recent experiences with Eddie. The man himself was delectable, but eating with him was not.

Mike didn’t seem inclined to talk about Eddie, which relieved Chase.

“You’ll never guess who came into the clinic today,” he said.

The question didn’t call for an answer, which was good, because Chase’s mouth was full of lasagna. Good beefy, cheesy, noodle-y lasagna.

“Mrs. Snelson. She said her husband’s the principal of Hammond High.”

Chase finished her bite of goodness. “Is she a new customer for you?”

“Yes, her dog is a new patient. I don’t think she’s had him for very long. Was he the principal when you went there?”

“Yes. He was at the . . . Yes, he’s been there forever.” She stopped talking, not wanting to mention the sore subject of the reunion.

“She mentioned that. She said he’s having trouble adjusting to the dog.”

Mike warmed her heart with his smile and topped off her wineglass with the Chianti Reserva he had selected. Its full-bodied taste was perfect with the robust Italian flavors. The candle on the table flickered and danced, helping create an intimate space where only the two of them and the table of delicious food existed.

“What does that mean? Have they never had a dog before? I don’t think they ever had children.” She forked another piece of lasagna. Yum.

Mike swirled some of his spaghetti carbonara, but didn’t take a bite. “Sounded like he might be allergic. She hasn’t had him long. He’s a tiny lap dog, teacup Chihuahua.”

“Is he cute?”

Mike shrugged and took his bite. After a bit he said, “I prefer more natural breeds. This one is neurotic.”

Chase thought a lot of Chihuahuas were neurotic. “Can you be allergic to such a tiny dog?”

“Sure. Size doesn’t matter. What got me, though, was what she was saying to me, as a perfect stranger. She brought up your reunion and how awful the murder was. Then she repeated, several times, that her husband and a business colleague were together at her house all night, so they couldn’t possibly have known anything about the killing.”

“Why would she talk about that with you?”

“The more she went on, the more I thought she was trying to convince me. And, I should add, the more I thought she was lying. Why she would need to tell me this, I don’t know.”

“Maybe,” Chase said, “she was rehearsing her story for the police.”

FIFTEEN

“Detective Olson, please.” Chase had called the station Saturday morning after the homicide detective didn’t answer his cell phone. She heard her back door opening. A minute later Anna called up the stairs that she was here. Chase ran to the top of the stairs and motioned to her that she was on the phone. Anna nodded and proceeded into the kitchen. Quincy slipped down the stairs. She would have to make sure he got into the office before they opened for business.

“Yes?”

She tried to detect his mood from that single word. He didn’t seem angry or abrupt this time. The receptionist probably told him who was calling, so that must have meant she wasn’t on his bad side at the moment.

“I talked with my friend Dr. Ramos last night. He told me that Mrs. Snelson, who owns a little tiny dog, was talking to him about her husband being with Langton Hail all night after the reunion.”

“Yes, that’s also what she told us.”

“Well, don’t you think that’s odd?”

“It’s odd that a married couple has a friend over? No, I don’t think so. Why would you?”

“But all night? It’s not something people go around saying. She’s, well, she’s protesting too much. Know what I mean?”

“Yes, I’ve read Shakespeare.” He was silent for a moment. She heard Anna humming the chorus of “Dancing Through Life” from Wicked in the kitchen as she waltzed, Chase was sure, from counter to stove to refrigerator.

“Okay, Chase,” Niles Olson said. “I agree it’s a strange thing to talk about. How well does she know Dr. Ramos?”

“Not at all. She’s a brand-new customer at his clinic.”

“I’ll make a note. Thanks for calling.”

That was a tiny bit of progress, Chase thought. There must be a guilty secret there, some fire under the smoke. It made some sense that, if Hail were too drunk to drive, he might go home with Snelson, since he lived close to the school. She needed to think this through. Later.

Right now, she needed to get to work. It was Saturday, with only a week and a half to go before Christmas. The closer the holidays got, the more people craved sweets.

The pudgy tabby was enjoying himself immensely. He didn’t usually get this much time in the kitchen in the morning. Normally, his feeder person let him downstairs, then herded him into the office straightaway. While she lingered upstairs on the phone, though, the older woman was content to let him wander the room, trolling for tidbits that hadn’t been mopped up the night before. If they were there, he couldn’t find them. Too soon, the feeding woman came downstairs and shut him into the office. He checked to make sure the paper he’d hidden was still under the desk. This room was never cleaned nearly as thoroughly as the kitchen. Otherwise, it wouldn’t still be sitting there, right where he had stuffed it.