Fat Cat Takes The Cake

“What is he?” she asked. “Some kind of . . . wienie dog mix?” Chase breathed in the smell of strong antiseptic. For some reason, she loved it.

“Hard to say. More likely one part corgi.”

“With the coloring and fur of a Saint Bernard?” Julie asked.

“Seems that way, doesn’t it? Ruff was a stray that was picked up and brought to the shelter. His owners adopted him from there. He’s the friendliest little guy you’ll ever meet when he’s awake.” He stroked the dog’s black, tan, and white fur.

Ruff’s long, plumed tail stirred and his tongue lolled out of his happy mouth. He couldn’t stand up because of the splint on his left rear leg. Also because he was probably still too groggy.

“Good work, doc,” Julie said. “He looks like he came through his surgery fine.”

“He’ll be okay once it heals. He’s still young enough to mend quickly.” He turned to the women. “Have a good time without me.”

“We will,” Julie said with a grin.

After they were in Chase’s car, Julie said, “Cat got your tongue back there?”

Chase sighed. “I don’t know what to say to him.”

“I kind of thought he might ask you to lunch or dinner or something.”

“I did, too.” She would have accepted in a heartbeat. She wasn’t opposed to women asking men out, but, for some reason, she wanted Mike to ask her.

“Maybe he assumes you’re still seeing Eddie. You should clear that up, shouldn’t you?”

Yes, she should.

THIRTY-TWO

After driving Julie to the real estate office that was staying open late for her, they drove to their dinner destination. Chase dropped Julie off in front of the pizza parlor and went to find a parking place, since the small parking lot was full. She began to worry if they would get seated inside an hour—there were so many cars. After she finally found a place around the corner on a side street, she got ready to brave the elements. She pulled her knit hat down over her hair and tucked her scarf more securely around her neck. Before she could open the door, however, her phone pinged.

Hoping it was the e-mail from Eddie that would prove—to her—that he was the killer, she fished it out of her purse and opened the message. The subject was “Healing Vinegar” and the text contained the recipe for the horrid concoction he had given her. The address the message came from was bhelthy. Be healthy? She cringed at the misspelling, then she threw the phone into her purse, discouraged that Eddie wasn’t hunkyb.

She trotted through the snowfall, increasing by the minute, the sting of her disappointment worse than the nip of the cold on her face. Before she got to the front door, she had a thought. Eddie could still be hunkyb. She herself had two e-mail addresses. She had one that she gave to merchants to get them off her back, but she rarely looked at it. She had another main address she actually used.

If he did use hunkyb, though, he wasn’t using it with her and she wasn’t going to be able to use that as evidence against him. She had all the information she was going to get. Now, how would she relay this to Detective Olson? Tanner didn’t want anyone knowing he had hacked Ron North’s account. Could she tell the detective what was found without telling him who found it? She would have to think of a better way.

Before she went inside the warm restaurant, she called Eddie.

“Where are you, Chase? What’s all that noise?”

“I guess it’s the wind. I’m outside.”

“Do you need some help?”

“No, I was wondering if you’d like to meet for a drink later tonight.”

“You got some place in mind?”

They settled on Amble Inn, a place she’d been to with Mike once. It wasn’t far from Julie’s law office, where they’d left her car. Julie lived in that neighborhood, too, so she would drop her off and meet Eddie. And try to get something from him, anything. Some indication that he was being blackmailed by Ron, or that he was ever called Hunky or Hulk.

She would be very careful.

She and Julie were both surprised when Bart Fender came to the table to take their orders.

“You work here?” Julie asked.

“School coaches don’t make as much money as lawyers.” He smiled when he said it and Chase and Julie both smiled back. The order pad was small in his big paws. “Some of us have to work two or three jobs.”

“Well, it’s a nice place to work, isn’t it?” Chase said, trying to soothe the fury that always seemed to simmer barely below Bart’s surface.

“I don’t know about that. But it’s close to the hospital. I can visit Dillon before and after work pretty easy.”

A pang of guilt stung Chase. For days, she hadn’t thought of poor Dillon, lying in a coma, unaware of the battle that raged between Bart and her parents about turning off her life support.

“She’s still there, then?” Julie said.

Chase wanted to kick her. She didn’t think they should talk about this and rile Bart up. He’d been so upset when they’d seen him there.

“For now. What do you want to drink?” His smile had disappeared.

After he left, Chase whispered to Julie, “Don’t talk about Dillon, okay? It upsets him.”