“Good idea. I can meet the parents, if they’re there.”
“Are you going to call first?”
“No, I think I’ll drop by. If all three are there, maybe I can get a feel for the family dynamics. If not, I’ll talk to whoever is home.”
“I don’t suppose you can convince the Uhlgrens to go easy on their daughter.” At that point, the first of a steady stream of customers interrupted the conversation.
Chase thought it would be a miracle if she could sway the minds of two people she had never before met concerning a family matter that was probably none of her business. But she knew she should try.
When she was working in Chicago, one of her fellow waitresses got pregnant. The young woman’s mother was very hard on her but didn’t kick her out of the family home. After the baby was born, the mother fell in love with her precious granddaughter. Chase felt that’s the way it ought to work when there was no father to share the burden with the new mother, like with Inger’s intended getting killed in war and not coming back. Families should support each other. What would she do without hers? If her own parents hadn’t made a will naming Anna as her guardian, she would surely have been made a ward of the state when they died. She shuddered to think of what some of those poor kids went through, being sent to homes where they weren’t really wanted and weren’t understood. There were some excellent foster parents, she was sure. You only ever heard about the ones who were . . . not excellent. But what if she had ended up with, well, anyone but Anna?
Overcome with the gratitude welling up inside her, Chase reached over and gave Anna a quick hug. Anna smiled in surprise and they both kept working.
When Chase went to get Quincy at the end of the day, Mike, in the small outer room, was deep in conversation on his cell phone, his face expressionless. It sounded serious, so she gave him a finger wave and went to the examining room. Quincy rose, stretched his front legs, curling his pink tongue as far out of his mouth as he could, then straightened each back leg.
“You’ve been a lazybones today, haven’t you?” Chase said. “Sleeping your life away. I can hardly blame you. It’s pretty boring in here.” She unlatched the cage and lifted Quincy into his carrier.
“Boring in here,” said a raspy voice behind her.
She whirled around. No one was there. Ah, but Elsa’s parrot was in a cage on a shelf.
“Hi there,” Chase said, walking over to the shelf.
“Hi there,” mimicked the bird.
“Are you Lady Jane Grey?”
“Lady Jane Grey, Lady Jane Grey, Lady Jane Grey.” The parrot flapped her soft gray wings, ducking her head and wiggling her red tail feathers.
“I guess you’ll be going home with Anna.” Chase caught herself and froze for a moment, then laughed. Was she having a conversation with a bird? She told the animal, “Bye bye.”
“Bye bye,” Grey replied.
Chase giggled at herself and left the room.
Mike was still talking, frowning and shaking his head slightly. She didn’t think he noticed her leaving. She would find out what was going on eventually, she hoped.
* * *
As she drove, she decided to call Bill Shandy first, as soon as she got home, then go to Inger’s family’s place and see what she could find out there. She was sure of one thing. Inger should not move back in with Anna. Anna was full up.
Bill answered on the first ring. “I thought you’d call about now, when the fair let out.”
Chase settled into her cinnamon-hued stuffed chair with a cup of steaming-hot tea.
“What was that all about at the fair?” he asked. “You were obviously trying to tell me something.”
“Bill, I’m worried about Anna.” She sipped, savoring the hint of jasmine in her drink.
“You think she’s overdoing it, letting Elsa and her sister stay with her? She’s doing fine, really.”
Chase laughed. “No, not worried about that. I don’t think that woman will ever run out of energy.” She grew serious. “I’m worried that she’s consorting with a murder suspect.” Quincy leapt softly into Chase’s lap.
“Hm. I guess you could be right.”
“What if Elsa is the one who killed Larry Oake? The spouse is always the most likely culprit, according to the mysteries I read.” Quincy butted the hand that held her mug, but Chase managed to keep the tea from spilling into her lap.
“Frankly, I don’t see her as a murderess. You think she killed him?”
“I have no clue, but if she did, I hate the idea of Anna hanging around with her. Why don’t you think she’s guilty?”
“Her own parrot. Anyone who’s nice to pets is a good person in my book. Lady Jane Grey is well taken care of and in very good health.”
Chase had to laugh. “I guess that makes sense, coming from a pet shop owner.”
“Besides,” Bill added, “even if she did kill her husband, she’s probably not a danger to anyone else. Anna’s not involved in their family matters. There had to have been a trigger, something the killer was passionate about. Otherwise Oake wouldn’t have been killed right there. It was a risky thing. The killer could easily have been caught if someone walked in at the wrong time.” Maybe Bill read mysteries, too.
“I sure hope you’re right.”
Chase didn’t feel that much better about what Anna was doing after she hung up. Bill hadn’t convinced her that Elsa didn’t kill her husband. Just that the killer was a daring person, able to take risks. Distracted, she plopped her cup on the side table and stood up. Quincy, who had been curled into a ball and comfy in her lap, protested the loss of his resting place with an annoyed mrow. He then stalked to his bowl and licked the remnants of his din din.
“Sorry, Quince. I forgot you were there.” She rubbed his head as she passed, on her way downstairs to look up Inger’s address.
* * *
When she got to the address in Hopkins, she found a white clapboard ranch house with a driveway and a neat front yard. One large maple tree stood sentinel smack-dab in the middle, and trimmed bushes nestled close to the house. Chase left her car at the curb and climbed the three steps to the small front porch.
A red-faced man answered her second ring. He frowned at Chase.
“I’m here to speak to Inger,” she said. “I’m Chase Oli—”
“Inger isn’t here.” His voice was gruff and his frown menacing.
A small woman with wispy, graying hair appeared behind him. “Roger, let her in. She might know something.”
He gave Chase an annoyed look but opened the door wide.
Chase stepped into a wood-floored living room heated by a large brick fireplace. The space was furnished with matching yellow-and-orange chairs and a couch, and softened with brown area rugs. The woman motioned Chase to the couch, and the couple sat facing her in the chairs. The room smelled of lemony furniture polish.
“What do you know about Inger?” demanded the man.
“Roger, let me.” The woman’s voice was soft, but commanding. “How do you know our daughter? You said your name is Chase?”
“Yes, Chase Oliver. I’m her employer?” Had Inger never told her parents the name of her boss? “You do know she works for me, don’t you?”
They both gave her blank looks.
“At the Bar None.”
“You own the Bar None?” Roger sounded incredulous. “You look too young to be a business owner.”
Chase was going to ignore his rudeness. “Inger called me earlier today and now I can’t get in touch with her. She doesn’t answer her phone and I’m worried about her.” Knowing that you people kicked her out once, she added mentally. Chase had tried to call Inger again before she set out, but it rang to her voice mail. She didn’t leave a message, not having any idea what to say.
“We’re worried, too,” the woman said, twisting the edge of her cardigan
into a knot. “She’s disappeared. We have no idea where she is.”
“Have you tried her friends?”
The couple exchanged looks. The woman answered. Apparently, Roger was going to let her handle this, as she had requested. “We don’t know any of her friends. Inger is a very private person.”
“She’s shy,” added her father. “Doesn’t run around much.”
“She spent all her time with Zack, until . . .”
“Until he was killed overseas.” Roger finished her sentence as his wife became too choked up to speak.
“No friends? None at all?” Chase wondered what that would be like. Poor Inger.
“Maybe.” The woman looked doubtful. “But we don’t know any of them.”
“How long ago did she leave?”
They both shrugged. They apparently didn’t keep track of their daughter any better than they communicated with her.
On her drive back to Dinkytown, she dialed Inger’s number twice more but got no answer either time. Chase shed a few tears for poor, lonely Inger.
FOURTEEN
Distracted by worries about Inger, and wondering how on earth to go about finding her, Chase trudged up the stairs to her apartment. It was getting late. She hoped Inger had found shelter somewhere, in her condition.
The door opened wide and no one stuck a foot in it so that the cat wouldn’t get out. He scampered through the opening and down the stairs, ignoring his name being called behind him. The tabby reached the bottom of the stairs, zipped through the door to the Bar None kitchen, and made a beeline for the front salesroom. When he got there, he slowed. He padded silently to the figure huddled in the corner, behind the sales counter, sobbing. He rubbed against her legs, which were bent against her body. She was clutching her shins tightly but let go and reached one hand out to stroke the cat’s soft back.
“There you are!” Chase flicked on the light switch when she heard Quincy’s loud purr. Then she saw Inger. “There you both are.” Her voice quavered with her sudden relief.
Chase dropped to the floor beside Inger. The young woman raised her head, and Chase saw that her gray eyes were red-rimmed, her face awash in tears. Chase couldn’t help letting some slide down her own cheeks. She stroked Inger’s curly, tangled hair and Inger leaned against her.
They sat on the floor behind the counter like that for at least fifteen minutes.
Someone rapped on the front window. Chase jumped up but couldn’t see outside. The lights inside threw her own reflection back at her and obscured whoever was knocking against the glass. She flicked off the light, gave herself a few seconds to adjust, then walked to the front.
The person outside was lit from behind, but Chase could tell it was Julie. She unlocked the door and let her in, being careful to keep Quincy, who had followed her, corralled.
“I saw the light and thought I’d better check to make sure everything is okay. You’re not supposed to be open now.” Julie bent to rub Quincy’s head. “Jay and I had dinner, then talked and talked. Do you mind if I come up?”
Chase hesitated and threw a glance behind her. Inger was still on the floor, out of sight.
“Is something wrong?” Julie started to look alarmed.
“No, no, nothing’s wrong with me. Our employee, Inger, is having some problems.”
“I’ll be all right, Ms. Oliver.” Inger rose, sniffing daintily, and appeared behind the counter. She clutched the edge of it with white knuckles.
“Let’s all go upstairs and get something warm to drink,” Chase said, rushing to stand beside Inger in case she fell. She looked so wobbly on her feet.
“Oh dear.” Julie, who had no idea what was happening, came to the counter and pushed Inger’s blonde curls out of her wan face. A few strands stuck to her damp cheeks and Julie swiped at those, too.
When they reached the apartment, Inger staggered to a stool in the kitchen. “You’ll need something to eat, I suspect,” Chase said. “Have you had anything since breakfast?”
“I didn’t really have anything then.”
Chase whipped up a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and put it on a plate with some carrot sticks. From the way Inger wolfed everything down, Chase wondered if she had eaten yesterday. She put another sandwich together.
Julie had been heating up some cider while Chase made the sandwiches. She nudged Chase in the side. “Inger, you don’t look too steady on the stool,” she said, nodding toward the living room. Chase took the hint and helped Inger off her precarious seat.
After they were all three seated in the living room with mugs of hot apple cider, Quincy stood on the floor, looking from lap to lap. His tail twitched twice, then he jumped into Inger’s. It heartened Chase to see her smile down on the little guy.
“Inger is having some family problems,” Chase told Julie, not knowing if she should air them in front of Julie. She looked at Inger, who nodded.
“It’s okay. You can tell her,” Inger mumbled, taking quick sips of the cider, and keeping her eyes on Quincy.
“I . . . I’m not sure what’s going on myself, Inger. When I couldn’t call you today, I went to your house. Your parents said you were missing.”
“Why should I tell them where I go and what I do? They don’t care.”
Chase had a feeling she was right. It still made her heart ache to hear Inger say it. “Did you have a quarrel?”
“Kind of. I’m trying to pick names for my baby. So, over the last few days, I’ve been looking at names online and collected a few that I like. At breakfast today I tried to ask my parents which ones they like. They don’t even care. Not one little bit.”
Inger snuffled and Chase ran to the kitchen to get her a tissue. Inger swiped at her nose and looked Chase in the eyes. “They just ate their stupid oatmeal and went off to work. They always have oatmeal. I hate oatmeal. I can’t live with them. I hate them.” Chase saw the deep, raw emotion in her eyes. How could her parents treat her that way?
“They’re still mad at me for getting pregnant. They don’t say it in so many words. But they do other hateful things.”
Quincy, who wasn’t getting petted at the moment, looked up at Inger. She smiled down and resumed stroking. “You’re so cute, Quincy. I wish I had a cat.”
“Chase, can I talk to you for a moment?” Julie motioned Chase into the kitchen. She pulled her to the corner and whispered, “She can’t stay with those horrible people. Can you keep her here?”
“Until her baby comes? That’s a long time.”
“I know, but I think she needs some therapy, and Quincy is giving it to her.”
Chase looked into her living room. Inger’s head was bent over the cat again, and she could hear his purr from where she stood. “I suppose I could give it a try. I do agree that the atmosphere in her house is terrible.”
“Did they seem worried about her?”
“Well, yes, they did. But they don’t know any of her friends and didn’t even know my name. I think they barely know where she’s working.”
Julie rubbed her chin. “I’ll tell you what. I’m staying at Anna’s while those murder suspects are there—”
“Only one is a suspect.”
“True. But that’s one too many. Anyway, my condo is empty. She could stay there if this doesn’t work out.”
“This is all temporary. You’re not moving in with Anna, are you?”
“No, not forever. Let’s do this for now. Let her stay here for a bit. I think the poor girl could use Quincy’s pet therapy.”
Chase nodded. Who knew what would happen over the next few days? She could leave Quincy in the apartment and not have to keep him in the cage at the fair. This would work very well until after Sunday, when the fair ended.
Then Inger could stay at Julie’s, or maybe they would find another place for her. She might even find her own place. Inger was so depressed, and
Chase thought that if she roused from that, she would be able to function better.
That night, Chase gave Inger her own bed and slept on the couch. She loved her leather couch, but in the morning decided she loved it for sitting and for lounging only, not for sleeping. The blankets kept slipping around on the slick leather. She woke up once with her face plastered against the cushion. Her hair was sweaty and sticky and she had drooled on the seat. Maybe she should have gotten a suede couch. The covers might have stayed in place then.
In the morning, she stumbled through making coffee. Inger emerged from the bedroom as it finished brewing. She looked sick.
“Oh dear, is that coffee?” She ran into the bathroom to throw up.
When Inger returned to the kitchen, Chase asked her what she’d like for breakfast.
“Do you have tea and toast?”
“Yes, indeed.” Chase stuck two pieces of bread into the toaster. I have Earl Grey and Irish Breakfast.” She rummaged in the cupboard for more jasmine tea, but she must have finished it up last night.
“No green tea?”
Chase held down her irritation and her thoughts: Don’t you think I would have mentioned it if I had it? “I have Earl Grey and Irish Breakfast tea,” she repeated. “Do you eat whole wheat toast?”
“Not usually. But it’s okay. I can eat it today. I’ll take the Irish Breakfast.”
Chase put the breakfast together hastily and left as soon as she could. Before she could discover that Inger didn’t like the brand of margarine she used. The last thing she had expected was that Inger would be a difficult houseguest. She had to admit, she herself was extra crabby from sleeping on the uncomfortable couch.
This was Thursday. The fair would be over Sunday. She could put up with Inger for four days. After that, other arrangements would have to be made. She hoped the Wisconsin women with their bird would be gone from Anna’s and that Julie would be back in her own place by then.
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