Fat Cat Takes The Cake

Chase guessed what they were hung up on. Somehow, they knew the scarf was Julie’s. Of course, anyone who had been at the reunion might have been able to tell them that. She didn’t tell Julie that she had recognized her scarf, but she would have to admit that to the detective.

•   •   •

Monday morning, Chase got her chance to talk to the police. Detective Olson woke her up early, wanting her to come to the station to give a formal statement. She had hoped to sleep in, since the shop was closed on Mondays and Tuesdays. She had fallen asleep, planning on telling the police how the scarf got to be with Ron North. The murderer had used it because it was there, she assumed.

She would have to say that it was Julie’s. It seemed the police already knew, but if they hadn’t found out yet, they would discover it sooner or later. She knew Julie hadn’t killed the man, but she didn’t want any suspicion to fall on her. If they knew how it got there, that should clear Julie. She hoped.

She showered and dressed in a hurry, tossed food in Quincy’s bowl and freshened his water. Taking a peek at the litter box, she decided it could wait until she got back from the police station.

It was another pristine winter day. A bit warmer than Sunday. There was a tang in the air that heralded much colder weather soon. Chase hoped it wouldn’t be too soon.

A parking place opened up as she pulled into the lot in front of the imposing Second Precinct building. Careful to push the right fob button to lock her car with her gloves on, she puffed out a steamy breath of anticipation and nervousness.

She enjoyed the sun’s warmth on her shoulders as she walked across the lot to the Eastside Guardian statue. She loved wearing her winter sweaters, but would rather enjoy the rare string of sunny days for longer. December in Minnesota could be a gloomy, cloudy affair. She gave the statue child’s head a rub for good luck. The child gazed up, trustingly, to the policeman statue holding her bronze hand in his. Another officer in an old-fashioned dress uniform stood on the plinth beside them.

Chase hadn’t decided yet exactly how she would word things to Detective Olson. Since awakening, she’d gone back and forth with herself about what she would say. She had to make sure he knew Julie couldn’t have killed Ron. The words to “Follow Your Heart” floated through her head. Anna had never taken her to a performance of Urinetown, disliking the name of the musical intensely, but Chase had heard the lyrics plenty of places.

She told herself she had better decide soon. Squaring her shoulders, she yanked open the large wooden door and went to meet her fate.

After she gave her statement, telling about Quincy getting away and Dr. Ramos crawling in to retrieve him, and then about her recognizing the victim, she signed the printout the detective handed her. She had repeated what she had said yesterday and hadn’t mentioned the scarf yet. But she would. Soon.

“I need to show you some things now,” he said. He opened a folder that held large color photos.

The first picture Detective Olson showed her was of the scarf. Her heart sank.

“Do you recognize this?” He shoved the photo toward her across his desk. His desk sat in the middle of several rows of them in the large room. The policeman beside them clacked his computer keys, typing with two fingers and bobbling his head between his monitor and his keyboard. Chase wondered if he would have a headache later.

“Yes.” She swallowed. “I saw it by the body.”

“Have you ever seen it before?” He raised his eyebrows and looked at her sideways.

“Yes.” It was time to fess up. “It belongs to Julie Larson. Ron took it from her at the reunion.”

“He took her scarf?” Now he looked like he didn’t believe her. “Why would he do that?”

Oh dear. She had to be careful to not implicate Julie. There had been a mini-scene and surely some of the people there had seen it. “He was talking to her and . . . took hold of it.”

“That’s odd. Were they arguing?”

“Not really arguing.” She reached up to twist a lock of her hair, then clasped her hands in her lap. No nervous gestures, she told herself. “They were talking.”

“What about?”

“He was getting drunk. He tried to pour some bourbon into her punch.” That would have improved the nasty too-sweet stuff, but she didn’t say that. “Julie told Ron she didn’t want any bourbon. He started pouring it in her cup anyway. She jerked her cup away and he spilled some from his own flask.”

“I see.” Olson leaned back in his chair, implying that he saw more than what Chase was saying.

Chase thought she was making a mess of this. “Ron was bothering a lot of people at the reunion. He’s an annoying person.”

“Did he bother you?”

“Not really.”

“Just Julie.”

“He used to have a thing for her. In high school.”

Niles Olson’s blue eyes sparked as he leaned forward again and rested his forearms on his desk. “A thing. What kind of thing?”