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Authors: Janet Cantrell

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TWENTY-FOUR

M
aybe Professor Fear knew what he was talking about. It was worth a try. She spent the next hour, after a steamy shower that temporarily stopped her cough, blowing her nose and sucking cough drops. She was starting to get sick to her stomach from them. Oh well, he probably wasn't a professor of medicine. Come to think of it, she had no idea what his field was.

She took a moment to direct a few dark thoughts at Grace Pilsen. Why had that woman come into the shop and sneezed all over Chase like that last week? Anna had never liked her and Chase was fully on Anna's side with that now.

Julie had had a suggestion, so she would try it, too. She salted some water and tried gargling in the bathroom. Unfortunately, she swallowed some. After that, she had a hard time
keeping it from coming back up, so she quickly gave up on that idea. Shuffling to the kitchen, she fixed another cup of tea with honey and retreated to her bed.

Before she fell asleep, though, Mike Ramos called. She dreaded answering it. How could she explain that she'd been walking with Eddie Heath today? The phone stopped ringing, but started up again a half minute later.

“Hi, Mike,” she croaked. The remedies she had tried so far seemed to have moved the malady to her vocal chords.

“Are you sick, Chase?”

“Uh-huh.”

“You sound awful.”

Go ahead and say it, she thought. Tell me I shouldn't have been out walking with Eddie.

“I'll call again tomorrow. You should get plenty of rest tonight. Do you have a cough?”

“A bad one.” She demonstrated for him, unwillingly, and almost couldn't quit.

“Sleep with an extra pillow or two. It helps your cough if you're not flat.”

“'Kay, I will.”

That had been easy. Maybe next time she didn't want to talk about something, she'd get a bad cold. It probably would help to prop up, as he had suggested, so she got two more pillows off her top closet shelf and bolstered herself. She sipped more tea and read several chapters of Kaye George's Neanderthal mystery
Death in the Time of Ice
with Quincy curled beside her, then nodded off.

A phone call from Julie awoke her two hours later. She groped for her phone and tried to say, “Hello.”

“You sound worse,” Julie said.

“I am,” Chase managed to say.

“Just listen, then. Don't try to talk. Gerry has some good ideas for me.” It was a relief to hear the lightness and hope in Julie's voice. “He says Ron North was killed in the parking lot and transported to where you and Quincy discovered him. He wants you to testify that I wasn't in the parking lot long enough for that. Other people from the reunion can back that up, too. He's talked to some of them.

“Now, about Hilda. We dropped in on her. She seems confused tonight. She says she signed something, but ‘that nice man,' as she calls him, told her it wasn't anything formal. We tried to get hold of Snelson, but his wife says he's not home.”

“She kicked him out,” Chase whispered, finding that it was easier on her sore throat than speaking. “Detective Olson told me that.”

“Great. That means I have no idea where to find him until school starts up again in January. A very good thing has happened at work. The other lawyers finally realize that I have nothing to do with the shady side of what those two are doing. I'm no longer getting dirty looks in the break room.”

“I'm glad of that.”

Chase hung up and immediately fell asleep again.

This time, when she woke up, she was disoriented. Two pillows loomed next to her in the bed, looking like a lumpy person at first. Then she remembered she had been propped up so she could breathe more easily. Her clock said it was already 10:00
PM
.

Anna would probably be up at this hour. She usually watched the news at ten, then worked her way toward bed.

“Anna?” she said when the older woman picked up. “I don't think I can come to work tomorrow.”

“You sound awful. Julie said you weren't feeling well.”

“A code in my head.” She sniffed, but didn't cough.

“Grace Pilsen gave it to you, I'm sure. What a horrible person she is! I hope she's still sick at the Batter Battle.”

“No, you don't. She'll come anyway and infect everyone there.” Chase was whispering again. If anything, her throat felt more raw than before.

“I wonder if she could be disqualified for making the judges sick. Don't worry about tomorrow. The way the snow is piling up, we probably won't get much business. Both Inger and Mallory are planning on showing up.”

“That's good.”
Thad's goot.
No, she shouldn't talk. Whispering was far better.

“What are you taking?”

“I've tried a few things. A hot shower, saltwater gargle, tea with honey. The tea feels best.”

“I can't do it now, it's not quite done, but I'll bring something over tomorrow. Try to get some rest, Charity.”

“Will do. Love you.”

Anna signed off saying she loved Chase, too. Chase couldn't wait to see what the next remedy would be.

In the morning, her bedroom ceiling glowed with the sunlight reflecting off the snow outside. She struggled to the window to see how much had fallen overnight. At least another foot. There was a little over two feet on the ground, not a showstopper for Minneapolis, but enough to keep some people home.

She was itching to go out and find Van Snelson. Maybe
he hadn't killed Ron North, but he was cheating an old woman and that made her furious. Julie and Gerrold were the better people to handle that problem, she knew. But, with Julie busy following up on the greedy real estate swindlers, she wouldn't be trying to find ways to prove she was innocent of the murder, in case a judge or jury thought it didn't take that long to strangle Ron North. That was up to Chase. It was Wednesday and Julie's court date was Friday. A shot of panic ran through her and brought on a coughing fit. She reached for a cough drop as her cell phone rang. Eddie Heath again.

“You opening today?” he asked.

“Bar None is open, but I'm not working today.”

“Hey, a day off. Want to do something fun?”

“No, Eddie, not a day off. A sick day. I have a cold.”

“Now that you mention it, you do sound bad. I'm closing up. The plows have put all the snow in front of my shop and there's no parking on this block at all. I'll be over in a minute with something to make you right as rain.”

He disconnected before she could dissuade him. She would groan if her throat didn't hurt so much. Here came another home remedy.

Her only hope was that Anna got to the Bar None before he did so Chase wouldn't have to go down the stairs and let him in. She wished she could call him back and tell him to set his remedy outside the door, but she couldn't bring herself to be quite that rude.

TWENTY-FIVE

C
hase heard the door open downstairs. Anna, she thought, relieved. Then she heard two sets of footsteps coming up the stairs. Hoping it wasn't Anna and Eddie at the same time, since Anna disapproved of him, Chase went to her door and opened it. It was Anna and Eddie, of course. She smiled to hide her uneasiness. Much as she knew she shouldn't keep seeing Eddie, she also didn't want him to see her with her hair flat and her nose red.

“Hey, let me drop this off for you, Chase,” he said. “Drink as much of it as you can. It'll make you better in no time.” He shoved a thermos at her, gave a mock salute, and trounced down the stairs. It was something hot. More tea with honey would be good, but she somehow doubted that's what it held.

After he left, Anna bustled in to set her contribution on the stove. She turned on a burner and soon the delectable aroma of Anna's homemade chicken soup was filling the kitchen.

“What did your friend bring you?” Anna asked.

“I'm afraid to look.”

“Why is that?”

“He's into natural health stuff. You know, vegan, green stuff to drink, tofu.”

“Those can all be delicious if you do them right.”

Chase perched on her kitchen stool at the counter. “Not as delicious as your chicken soup. You're an angel for making it. Did you do it after ten o'clock last night?”

Anna smiled. “No, Julie called me much earlier than that and told me you were sick. I wish I could have brought it last night, but it was still too hot to transport when we were talking.”

“You were talking. I was whispering.” Chase started coughing.

“And you should still be whispering. This will be warm soon. Go to your couch, or your bed if you wish, and I'll bring it as soon as it's ready.”

“You're the best.” Chase made her way to the couch. She realized she was still clutching the warm thermos that Eddie had sent. Maybe it was a good hot drink of something that would soothe her throat, even if it wasn't tea and honey. Cautiously, she unscrewed the top.

A horrible smell erupted from the innocent-looking vessel. “Ugh!” She screwed the top on securely.

“What is it?” Anna ran in to see what had prompted Chase's outburst. “What's wrong?”

“I don't know
what
it is.” Chase held the thermos out and Anna took the top off, taking a cautious sniff.

“Apple cider vinegar, if my guess is right.” Anna wasn't disgusted, but Chase didn't know why not.

“Vinegar? He thinks I should drink vinegar?”

“I'm sure it's mostly water, with some vinegar in it. Apple cider. It's quite healthy.”

“Take it away.” Chase pulled her feet up onto the couch and Quincy obliged her by lying on top of them to keep her warm.

She dozed and was pleasantly awakened in a few minutes by Anna bringing her a bowl of chicken soup goodness. Anna's soup was mostly broth, which she got from boiling a whole chicken with herbs. Chunks of light and dark meat floated in the liquid with some peas and thin carrot slices, adorned with slivers of transparent onion. Anna used rice instead of noodles, which made it easier to eat. Plain crackers rested on the plate beneath the bowl.

Chase sat up and dug in. After three spoonfuls, she croaked, “Heavenly.”

“Glad you like it.” Anna beamed. “What do you want to drink?”

“Just water, I think.”

“Good idea.” After Anna brought her a glass, she said she needed to head downstairs. It was time for Mallory and Inger to arrive.

Chase heard them pounding on the back door as Anna ran down the steps.

As the morning passed, Chase felt her sinuses clearing and the fog that she'd been enveloped in lifting. By noon
she was beginning to think she could venture downstairs. She hadn't coughed for an hour. If she started again, she'd return to her apartment.

Quincy's paws tapped the treads behind her as she walked down and into the warm, bright kitchen. The smell of almond flavoring prevailed. “Mm.” She closed her eyes and inhaled. “You're making Cherry Almond Oatmeal Bars, aren't you?”

“There you are. Feeling any better?”

“Your soup is a miracle cure.”

“Do you need some more? I have more broth at home. I can whip up some more soup for tonight if you'd like.”

“There's some left. Is there anything I can do? Do you need a taste tester?”

Anna laughed. “There's a batch cooling on the counter. Help yourself. But don't touch the bars we're going to sell. I don't want our customers to get sick.”

“I probably shouldn't be in the kitchen at all.” She ducked into the bathroom to bathe her hands in the antiseptic gel, then snatched a piece of cherry almond goodness. “Good choice for a winter day.” She held the amazing blend of cherries and almond flavoring on her tongue as long as she could before swallowing. “The cherries taste like summer.”

“That's exactly what I thought,” said Inger, who had come into the kitchen for her lunch break while they were talking. “Are you feeling better?”

“Much. Anna made me her special chicken-soup cure.”

“You know what I do when I have a cold?” Inger said. “I put some Vicks under my nose when I go to bed.”

Chase nodded, but had no intention of trying that since she didn't have any Vicks. “I'll keep that in mind.”

“Can you cover for me while I eat? Mallory is swamped right now and I'm starving.”

Chase asked Anna, “Do you think I should?”

“You're not coughing and your nose isn't running. Make sure to sanitize your hands.”

“I just did, but I'll do it again.”

Both Chase and Anna knew that hands should be cleaned often in the salesroom. Not only for cold germs. Handling money was about the dirtiest thing a person could do.

Being more active was good for her, Chase thought, after she had lazed around yesterday and this morning. She felt so good, she had thoughts of bottling Anna's chicken soup and selling it in the shop as a cure for the common cold. She smiled at the thought as soon as it flitted through her mind.

“Who you laughing at?” said the customer in front of her.

Chase shook her head. “Sorry, I was thinking of something else. Are you ready to buy those?”

The woman looked familiar, but Chase couldn't place her. She was short, but voluptuous. Even beneath her heavy coat Chase could clearly detect her curves.

“Yep. Richard says these are his faves.” She held out a box of Peanut Butter Fudge Bars and a twenty-dollar bill.

“Richard?” The woman sounded like Chase should know who that was.


Richard
. You talked to him yesterday.”

Richard. Right. Dickie Byrd. This was the mistress. “Oh yes, you're . . . Richard's friend.”

“I'm his squeeze. He's been spending nights with me since his witch of a wife threw him out last Saturday.”

Chase took the money and counted out the change, scooping the coins first. “Last Saturday?” She felt like an echo machine. “Wasn't that just a few days ago?”

“If you call a week and a half a few days.”

“So . . . Richard Byrd's wife kicked him out the Saturday of the reunion?” Bad night for marriages.

“Yep, that's the shindig that he was gonna take me to, then chickened out at the last minute and took her.”

“You mean Monique, right?”

“I call her Moaning Mona, but that's the same person. He still doesn't know what she did with all his clothes. Why couldn't she dump 'em in the front yard like other wives do?”

This woman obviously had had some experience at breaking up marriages. She wondered if Monique and Mrs. Snelson attended the same class on getting rid of husbands, including their clothing. She wouldn't suggest he look in the dump.

“Here you go.” Chase handed her the change. “Would you like another kind for yourself?” She felt something warm and fuzzy rub on her leg. She glanced down.

Quincy! She had forgotten to put him in the office. Maybe her head wasn't as clear as she thought it was.

It was lucky for the cat that no one had remembered to close him into the office. Enjoying the full range of the Bar None shop, he kept out of sight and meandered through the kitchen, finding delectable crumbs along the way. When
his main human went out to the salesroom, he slipped through the swinging doors behind her. Ever curious, he found a paper that had fallen to the floor and began to play with it, batting at it and extricating it from under the counter where it had lodged.

“What are you doing out here?” Chase said it more for effect than to ask a question. She knew full well that she hadn't secured him in the office when she came downstairs. Spending the morning dozing had thrown her out of her routine. She bent to scoop him up and a paper clung to his claw.

“Oh, there's Richard's poster. Aren't you supposed to have that in your window?”

“This
is
your Richard, isn't it?” Chase knew it was, but had to tack this down. If he had spent the night of the reunion with this woman, he couldn't have killed Ron North. Chase had been relying on him as a suspect.

“Of course.”

“What time did he get in the night of the reunion?” Quincy squirmed in her arms after she unhooked the poster from him. She needed to get him out of the salesroom, but she also needed to be certain whether or not Dickie could have killed Ron.

“It was before midnight. Maybe around eleven thirty or so. He left the party and went home. Then he came to my place because he was locked out.”

He probably wouldn't have had time enough to kill and
transport Ron. Chase wasn't even sure he could have lifted him into a car trunk. Dickie wasn't very strong. Chase gave up trying to indict Dickie Byrd, said thank you to his mistress, and went to lock Quincy in the office.

Were there any other suspects left besides her best friend?

BOOK: Fat Cat Takes the Cake
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