Fat Cat At Large (A Fat Cat Mystery) by Janet Cantrell

wanted to know the whole story. She wanted some leverage to prevent another scene like this one.
    Chase perched on a stool at the kitchen island with a glass of iced tea while Anna pulled a bowl of dough, partially mixed, from the refrigerator. “Anna, did you date Gabe?”
    Anna’s back, which was turned to Chase, stiffened slightly. “Why would you think that?” She gave the dough she was kneading a vicious whack.
    “You just now said to Doris—”
    Vi rushed through the back door. Both Anna and Chase turned to stare. “Sorry. I had to take care of something.” She ran through the kitchen, into the front room.
    Anna said it first. “What on earth is the matter with Violet?”
    “I don’t know. She’s usually so well groomed.”
    “Her hair’s a mess.”
    “And it’s not easy to mess up that short bob,” Chase said.
    “I’ve never seen her with her shirttails out. Sometime this afternoon, I’ll try to take her aside and see what’s bothering her.”
    “Let me,” said Chase, not trusting Anna’s instincts today. She was afraid Anna would terminate Violet. She couldn’t read the look Anna gave her as the older woman stuck a metal bowl on the mixer and lowered the beaters with a clang.
    “If you insist,” muttered Anna.
    Chase heard the office phone and went to answer it, shooing Quincy from the door. A glance at the caller ID told her it was the Minnesota Department of Health. She steeled herself to hear the results of the inspection and answered the call. Her spirits fell as the woman told her there was a problem. But when she said it was minor, Chase relaxed a bit. The sign cautioning employees to wash their hands was missing from the restroom, the woman said.
    Chase hung up and went to check. Sure enough, it had fallen off the wall and slipped behind the wastebasket. She put it back up, using more tape this time, then went to see what needed doing in the shop.
    The atmosphere was chilly in the kitchen, though the air was actually warm, full of the smell of baking cookie dough. Anna was making Almond Cherry Bars. They almost always made Chase’s mouth water, but today her tongue felt dry. Something was bugging Anna, something beyond the issue with Doris.
    “Who was on the phone?” asked Anna, not looking up from her task.
    “Health department. One teensy violation and I just fixed it.” She told her about the sign and Anna suggested they use tacks or nails.
    “Good idea,” said Chase. “They didn’t say when they’d reinspect.”
    “Speaking of health and cleaning up,” said Anna, “our delivery seems to have shorted us on paper towels. Could you please do me a favor and run out and get some?”
    Why was Anna being so formal? Getting paper towels wouldn’t be doing
her
a favor. They both needed the shop to have supplies. Chase shrugged and went out the front door. She crossed the street and walked down the block toward House of Hanson. Right before she entered through the recessed red door, she caught a reflection in the door’s glass that made her stop cold.
    Dare she turn around? The man across the street had come from the direction of the video shop and was walking toward the apartments in the next block. The man was tall and blond. He looked too much like Shaun Everly. The man entered the door to an apartment building. She refused to think that Shaun was here, in Minneapolis. She gave a shudder and entered the tiny grocery to pick up some paper towels.
    Shaun Everly was the reason she’d left Chicago. She never wanted to see him again. Ever.

SIX
    A s Chase trudged up the steps to her apartment at the end of the day, her cell phone trilled. The caller ID said “MN Police,” so she figured she’d better answer it. She clicked the button, juggling Quincy while she unlocked and opened her door.
    “Miss Oliver?” It was the cute detective, Niles Olson. Her heart quickened. If he wanted a date, she’d go, she decided right then. His voice was lovely over the phone.
    “Yes?”