Fat Cat Takes The Cake

She followed Quincy to the couch and dialed Detective Olson’s number, but quit halfway through when another coughing fit overcame her. As she sucked yet another cough drop, she had second thoughts. What would she tell the detective? She had no evidence to support her conclusion. There were no clues. It was all supposition. If he searched her trunk he might find blood. Could she convince him to do that?

Maybe Monique would come into the shop again and she could ask her some questions. She tucked one foot underneath herself on the leather couch. Quincy sat in her lap and they both dozed.

Chase’s head grew bigger and bigger. It started spinning, slowly at first. Then faster and faster. It whirled around, still gaining weight, sickening her stomach, spinning, spinning, spinning . . . until it exploded. She grunted as her skull flew apart and suspects came flying out. Snelson and Hail tumbled to the floor. Dickie Byrd flew out and stuck to the ceiling. Then Monique, yanking at her hair, spun through the air, staying suspended for an impossible amount of time. Chase grunted again.

Her lap was cold. Quincy had taken off when she had started stirring in her dream. She clutched her scalp, but it was intact. Her head hadn’t exploded. She was going crazy with this cold and all these suspects who didn’t kill Ron North. Quickly, before the details could evaporate, she reviewed everyone she had seen come flying out of her stuffy head, which did feel super heavy still. Snelson, Hail, and the two Byrds. No, no one new. Those were all the culprits. That was rotten luck, she thought. Why couldn’t her subconscious have worked out the answer? Maybe it had. Monique was the last one out and she hadn’t landed anywhere. The dream had been so vivid, Chase checked the ceiling, expecting Dickie Byrd to be stuck up there. She felt doom was barely beyond her sight, maybe down the hallway.

Her door opened. Anna let herself in with her key and arrived with more soup!

“I’m so glad to see you,” Chase said. She breathed easier.

“You sound all stuffed up.” Anna busied herself heating the soup. “I’ll stay and have some with you, if you don’t mind. We closed up a little early and I sent Inger and Mallory home. Did you know that Inger is moving into her apartment on Monday?”

“That’s great. It will be so nice for her to finally get out of that house for good. Her parents are no treat.”

“No kidding. Have you gotten some rest?”

“Yes, I woke up just before you got here.”

“I’m glad I didn’t wake you.”

“You have to go to the police station with me. I had a weird dream.”

Anna raised her eyebrows. “You had a dream, so I have to talk to the police with you? Are you running a fever?”

“No, I mean . . . those two aren’t related. Well, only a little bit.” She still felt slightly dizzy.

Anna put bowls and soup spoons on Chase’s kitchen table.

Chase tried to explain her dream, but muddled it up. The terrible impending-doom feeling she had awakened with was receding, thank goodness.

“So, Monique Byrd stayed in the air instead of on the ceiling—”

“Or the ground.”

“—so she killed Ron North.” Anna had a right to be skeptical when it was put like that.

“Really, though, I think my subconscious might have figured this out. She’s the only person left with motive, the only one who hasn’t been ruled out with an alibi.”

“Tell me her motive again.” Anna ladled her golden soup into the bowls and Chase inhaled the healing aroma.

“Ron was stalking her, so she killed him,” Chase said.

“That’s about all they have on Julie!”

“They also have the fact that Ron was about to expose the real estate swindle and he thought she was part of it.”

“But that’s just it. She’s not,” Anna said. “Julie has said her lawyer will point that out.”

“What about all the cases where there’s only one suspect, so that one gets the guilty verdict?”

“I don’t know if there are all that many.”

“There are some. And one is too many if it’s Julie.”

“I agree with that, but what can we do?” She gave a heavy sigh. “What are you going to say to the detective when you go to the station? After you infect him with your cold?”

Maybe she should. If he were sick, he might back off trying to get Julie charged. “I would like to point out that he should make sure Monique has an alibi. Then, when he finds that she doesn’t, he should be smart enough to consider her as his new prime suspect.”

“Eat your soup and get some rest. Call him tonight, or see what you think tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow is Thursday! The hearing is—”

Anna’s phone rang. She listened with a worried look on her face.

New information, thought Chase. They found something else that makes Julie look guilty. She knew it.

TWENTY-SEVEN

“I have to go,” Anna said. “That was the florist. They can’t get the light blue orchids I wanted and they’d like me to pick out some calla lilies to replace them.”

Chase was relieved it was about the wedding.

Anna’s wedding was mostly lavender and blue, with some bright lime-green accents. She and Julie had ordered matching lavender dresses, but they hadn’t come in yet.