Fat Cat Takes The Cake

He hung up before she could protest further. It might be easier, she told herself, to go there. Maybe she could think of a way to tell him she couldn’t see him anymore. She was so happy that Mike had shown up to help them celebrate on Saturday. When he’d walked into the Bar None through the rear door and gave her a peck on the lips, she knew that all the tension between them was gone and they were on solid footing now. She had laughed with Mike, and with Julie, Jay, Anna, and Bill, late into the night.

She’d been pleased when Mike told her that his cousin, Patrice, had decided to go to work for the police department, teaching them how to detect and foil pickpockets and thieves. They were paying her for giving the classes and even suggested that other police departments might want to hire her, if the initial session went well.

Before Mike left, he’d come upstairs to give her a proper good-night kiss after a few pets for Quincy, and she’d gone to bed in a haze of happiness and love. She was determined not to mess things up between them again.

On Monday, she drove to Eddie’s Health Bar and arrived angry that she was there. Why hadn’t she called Eddie back and told him she couldn’t make it? She had a million things to do today.

His shop wasn’t open yet, but he let her in as soon as he saw her at the door.

“Here’s what I want to do for a wedding gift to Anna and Bill,” he said.

With dismay, she saw he’d laid out a complete buffet on his sales counter. There were at least a dozen plates full of finger food.

“Go ahead, taste a few of my creations. I’m volunteering to cater the reception.” He was grinning, waiting for her to tell him how wonderful he was.

“Eddie.” She summoned up a reserve of patience. “The reception has been arranged for a long time. Someone else is doing it.”

“The more, the merrier, right? Go on, taste something.”

Everything on the counter was green or brown. There was no way.

“Eddie. I have to be honest. We can’t use your food. And—”

“I’m not charging anything. You can just add this—”

“—and I can’t see you anymore. I’m committed to Mike Ramos. I’m seeing him.”

“Ramos? The vet?”

“Please don’t call anymore. I can’t see you. I’ve realized we don’t have a thing in common. We need to quit seeing each other.” She hurried out before he could say anything else. Starting up her car, she saw him coming out the door. She clicked her locks and sped away.

There. She had done it. Why had it taken her so long?

THIRTY-NINE

After lunch alone in her apartment—alone except for her furry guy, Quincy—Chase became aware of the sun streaming through her balcony French doors.

“You know what we should do, don’t you?” She dangled the harness and leash and Quincy jumped up and came over.

“I think we’ve done it, old boy. I think we’ve conquered this leash thing.”

As they strolled in the bright, crisp air, she called Anna.

“You were right.”

“I usually am, but what about this time?”

“We finally have it mastered, the walking on a leash.”

Quincy stopped walking to study a noisy junco in the tree above them. The small bird with its soft gray back and white breast sent out a trill that made Chase check her cell phone. Quincy swished his tail and walked on, his ears pointed rearward at the sassy bird.

“And Quincy likes it?” Anna said.

“He seems to. He comes running when I get the harness out.”

“Be sure you fasten that thing, Charity. I don’t want him finding a dead body two days before my wedding.”

“I sure wish we could find the bridesmaid dresses.”

“Oh, didn’t Julie tell you?’

“I haven’t talked to her.”

“They came! Julie dropped them off on her lunch break a few minutes ago.”

Chase had forgotten they were being sent to Julie’s place instead of hers, since they received so many baking supplies already at her place.

Whew! “That sure is good news. Should I come over and try mine on?”

“Come over when Julie’s off work and I’ll see if they need altering.”

What a relief. Chase couldn’t think of a single other thing that needed doing before the wedding. The Bar None would close Wednesday and Thursday, Christmas Eve and Christmas, and Anna would be married Wednesday evening.

Feeling like she weighed less, Chase walked on, musing about life and death and murderers.

Was Ron North a thoroughly bad person or not? He had a borderline-dangerous habit of stalking women. Okay, it was dangerous, since it had driven Dillon Yardley to try to end her life to escape him. So she came down on the side of thoroughly bad for him.

Bart Fender must have been head over heels in love with Dillon, but that didn’t excuse his actions. He must have been driven by knowing that his love wasn’t enough to keep Dillon going. All of that was on top of his drug dealing. Bart’s future would be decided by a jury, but Chase wondered what Dillon’s would be.