Chapter 13

Chapter

Thirteen

F riday morning, Cat arose early and after grabbing coffee, went to her office to work. Instead, she found herself looking up the social media accounts of Kim Slate. Her uncle had framed her correctly. Her Facebook feed was filled with pictures of her house in Aspen Hills and her son. According to the site, she and Kim had been friends for a while. She’d probably friended her when she’d worked at the college. Back when Cat was the creative wife of the more distinguished economics professor. She’d been accepted at the college’s parties more as a novelty. Especially after she’d confessed that she’d sold her first paranormal academy story. If she’d wanted to be respected, Michael had warned her, she needed to write a literary novel. Not genre fiction.

As she scrolled through the posts, she saw several shots with the fundraising departments. Mostly at events that they’d sponsored to raise money for the college. And in most of the posts, there was a picture that included her and Allen. Were they standing a bit too close? Were they watching each other in candid shots? How had they kept their affair a secret when they clearly were attracted to each other? Had Kim not seen the evidence when she posted these?

She continued to flip through the posts, seeing the same type of pictures from every event, until she found an event, two years ago where the signs weren’t there. She found three different events before that where the two weren’t soulfully gazing into each other's eyes. So she went back to the closest event that she could see the attraction. Eighteen months ago.

Cat wrote the date and event on a piece of paper. Then she went forward to now. The last event she’d posted didn’t have a picture of Allen. And the one before, he was standing in the group shot with Lucy, his wife.

Allen and Kim had broken up sometime between that first picture together when the sexual tension snapped between them, even on film and now. But when? Cat slowly scrolled Kim’s feed until she found the last picture of them together. Six months ago.

She texted Dante a question but before he could respond, a knock sounded on her door. Her first one-on-one was here. Time to stop snooping and to start working. “Come in,” Cat called as she closed out the Facebook tab and grabbed another notebook and the file on top of her pile. Patrick Bradley was here to talk all things writing and deserved Cat’s full attention.

By the time she’d finished the morning’s meetings, she only had ten minutes to get downstairs for Seth’s ride into town with the group. She’d walk home after her coffee with Grace. She was sure that as soon as Grace realized that Cat wasn’t dating Dante, this would be the last offer of coffee. But she could be wrong.

Either way, she put on makeup and hurried downstairs to meet up with the group.

After she got into the van, riding shotgun, Seth turned to her and smiled. “You look nice.”

“I’m meeting Grace Evans for coffee while the writers are at the bookstore.” She glanced back but they all seemed involved in a discussion about first versus third point of view.

“Do you need a ride back?”

She shook her head. “I’ll walk. Maybe stop by and see Uncle Pete.”

“Do you have a theory?” Seth backed the van out of the driveway and headed to town.

Cat thought about his question and waved at Mrs. Rice as they passed by her house. Her neighbor didn’t like her, but she loved Seth and Shauna. Especially Shauna because they tested recipes together. Seth cleared her sidewalks and cleared downed trees from her property. Cat had divorced Michael. And Mrs. Rice had loved Michael too.

“Cat? Do you have a theory?” Seth repeated, quieter this time.

She shook her head and as she turned toward him in her seat, she saw Maggie watching her. “Not a theory,” she admitted. “Just more questions.”

When she got the writers settled, she said she’d see them at the house and headed for the door. A hand caught her coat and she turned to find Maggie watching her. “What do you need?”

Maggie glanced back at the other writers. Then she whispered, “Are you going to see Dante?”

Cat frowned and tried to process the question. “No, I’m having coffee with Grace Evans. Why? Do you need to talk to Dante?”

“No, I mean, I was just wondering,” Maggie stammered, then she met Cat’s gaze. “Are you cheating on Dante with Seth? Or Seth with Dante? It’s hard to figure out.”

“And none of your business, frankly. But I’ll tell you the truth,” Cat paused and saw that the group was watching them talk. Tammy was finishing with a customer. “I’m in a relationship with Seth. We’re probably getting married soon. Or at least I hope we will. Dante’s my friend. That’s all. No relationship besides friendship.”

Cat watched as Maggie processed the information. Cat was going back on her promise to Dante to pretend they were going together, but so far, that lie hadn’t helped them figure out who had killed Allen or even who stole the money. “I’ve got to go. Grace’s waiting.”

“I’m glad. Martin said to stay out of it, but Seth’s a nice guy. He did some work for us on the house. I just didn’t want you to hurt him. Not like Allen and Kim.”

Cat froze, then focused on Maggie. “What do you know about Allen and Kim?”

“They were having an affair, but he broke it off and told her he still loved Lucy. That he’d made a mistake. Kim was blindsided.”

Just then Tammy called out, “We’re ready to get started. Cat, did you need something?”

“No, sorry, I’m leaving,” As Cat opened the door, she turned back, “Thanks for telling me.”

As she walked to the coffee shop, The Coffee Bean, she thought about Kim and Allen. Was it that easy? Kim set Allen up because he didn’t love her? And when that didn’t work because someone else had seen the frame job and turned it to focus on Dante, had she killed Allen for his treatment of her?

And if all of this was true, how on earth was she going to prove it? Her uncle loved her but he wasn’t going to be able to take some damaging Facebook posts and turn it into a murder motive. There had to be something more than he could use.

But maybe this would at least get him looking for evidence. Maybe Grace knew more and would be willing to talk to him. She should just tell her what she thought she knew and see if Grace had any more evidence.

She pulled open the door to the coffee shop and quickly stepped out of the cold. She stomped her feet to get the snow and ice off her boots. Then she glanced around the almost empty shop while she unwound her scarf. No Grace.

Cat checked her watch. She wasn’t early she was late. It was fifteen after. She texted Grace but no response came back.

“Can I help you?” a girl asked from the hostess stand.

“I’m supposed to be meeting someone. Grace Evans? Have you seen her?” Cat peppered questions at the hostess.

The girl shook her hair. “Not this morning, although she’s a regular. I’ll seat you. Maybe she’s just running late.”

Cat nodded and followed the hostess. Then she ordered a large peppermint mocha. She leaned back and watched her phone.

Dante answered her while she waited. Do you want the exact dates or just an idea?

She texted back. Just an idea.

She held her breath as she watched the three dots dance. Finally, she had a longer-than-usual text from Dante. But the most important part was the first line. About six months ago now. Why?

Cat waited another thirty minutes, finishing her drink and getting more and more concerned about Grace’s well-being. Before she left, she texted her one more time but still no answer. Either Grace had forgotten about their coffee date or she’d gotten busy. She headed to her uncle’s house and as she walked, she called Lucy Johnson’s cell.

The phone rang five times before Lucy picked up.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Lucy, it’s Cat Latimer. I was just checking to see if you were okay. I stopped by yesterday with my boyfriend, Seth, after the funeral?”

“I remember. Do you think I’m an idiot?”

The tone of Lucy’s voice surprised Cat but she pushed on. “Well, I just wanted to know if there was anything I could do for you today. I don’t have a lot of time but next week I’ll have more time available.”

“No, I’m fine. Everything is fine here. Except, of course, my husband is dead. You had that problem a few years ago, right?”

Cat paused at the street crossing, waiting for the light to change. “Yes, my ex-husband Michael died a few years ago. Did you know him?”

“No, I was just making small talk. Anyway, I need to go. Thank you for calling.”

Cat started to say something else but she realized that Lucy had ended the call. She tucked her phone into her coat pocket and crossed the street to the police station.

He was at the front counter, leaning over and talking with the dispatcher/receptionist. This was the third one this year and from the frustrated look on her face, Cat wondered if there would be a fourth soon. “You look busy.”

“I’m not. I’m just helping out,” he stood and waved her back to his office. The look of relief on the girl’s face was priceless. Cat might have to explain delegation to her uncle. “So what brought you out on a cold Friday?”

“I was supposed to have coffee with Grace Evans but she stood me up,” Cat sank into one of his visitor chairs. “Why don’t you hire Shirley to move down here and do dispatching? I’m sure she’d be excellent.”

He blinked at her several times. “She’s retired.”

“From being an officer. Maybe she’d like an office job to keep her busy.” Cat shrugged. “Whatever, I just don’t think your most recent hire is going to stay if you don’t give her some room to breathe.”

“I give her room. She just keeps messing up. She hung up on the mayor this morning, so I told her I’d watch her for an hour to see if I could help.”

“She’s probably freaking out that you’re watching her. I know I would be.” Cat leaned toward the desk, trying to see his paperwork. “Anything new on Allen’s murder?”

“No, and stop trying to snoop.” He grabbed the files from his desk and stuffed them into his side drawer. “Why were you meeting with Grace Evans? She doesn’t seem your type.”

“What? Too uptown?” Cat felt the same way, but she wondered what her uncle thought.

“She flies to New York to shop three times a year. Her husband is always complaining at the college board meeting about how much she spends on shoes.” He rubbed his earlobe. “Then he complains that the protective boots the security guards wear shouldn’t be paid for by the college.”

“Like he’s paying the bill,” Cat didn’t want to walk home yet, but she’d run out of questions. “Dante says the money started disappearing about six months ago. The same time that Kim and Allen’s affair ended. Don’t you think that’s interesting?”

“What’s your point? Are you thinking Allen started stealing because Kim broke up with him?”

“Or maybe Kim started stealing because Allen broke up with her.” Cat didn’t have proof of either scenario, but it was interesting.

“I hadn’t considered that angle, but then why would someone frame Dante?” Uncle Pete chewed on a pen as he talked.

“Maybe someone from the family caught wind of the money disappearing and thought it would be a good way to get him out?”

“There’s a lot of maybe’s in your scenarios. Usually, you come with a better theory besides a broken affair.”

“Chief? There’s a man on the line saying his wife is missing. I told him I’d sent out a car, but he wants to talk to you.” The dispatcher stood at the doorway. “I didn’t want to transfer him in case you didn’t pick up and I lost the call.”

“That’s fine, Ariel. What’s his name?” Uncle Pete looked down at the flashing light on his phone. “Sorry Cat, I need to take this.”

“Ronnie Evans. He says his wife’s name is Grace?” She backed out of the door and then called back. “He’s on line five.”

Cat met her uncle’s gaze. “Grace?”

“What time where you supposed to meet?” Uncle Pete asked, “And where?”

She gave him the information and he pointed to the door. “I’ll let you know what I find.”

Cat bundled up her coat and nodded at Ariel. She wondered how long the girl would stay. She seemed frightened to do anything with the phone system. She said a prayer for Grace’s safety and headed out into the cold so she’d be on time for her afternoon one-on-one with the writers.

That evening after dinner, she called her uncle. “Any word?”

“Don’t you have a retreat to deal with?” He grumbled as she heard paper moving on his desk.

“Yes, and I’m going into a meeting right after I hang up, but I’m worried about Grace. Has she turned up?” Cat had tucked herself into the den so no one would overhear her conversation. There had already been a murder in Aspen Hills, if the writers found out someone had disappeared, her retreat would start living up to the murder retreat hype she sometimes found online from past guests.

“No. When did you make this appointment for coffee? You’re in her day planner for today.”

“She called yesterday after seeing me at the funeral. She wanted to talk about Lucy. And probably see if I was still dating Dante.”

The pause on the other side of the line made her chuckle. “You know, the fake dating idea where I hosted the party? That turned out to be a horrible idea and instead of me figuring out who was stealing from the school, someone got killed.”

“Allen’s death wasn’t your fault, Cat.” He sighed and Cat could imagine him running his hand through his thinning hair. He was tired, she could hear it in his voice. “This is getting out of hand. I’m talking to the council tomorrow including Dante and making sure the family is truly staying out of Aspen Hills. Oh, one more thing.”

“What’s that,” Cat glanced at her watch. She had a few minutes before the final evening session started.

“You said something about talking about Lucy. Is that why her name’s in the planner with a note to order food?”

“That makes sense,” Cat nodded as she returned a book from the desk to the bookshelf. It was one of her craft books she’d moved down here after starting the retreat. The guests were welcome to use the den and its library as they needed. “I told her she wasn’t eating well and it was messing with her thoughts and actions.”

“Okay, so another dead end. I swear, this investigation keeps stalling out. But at least I have cleared your fake boyfriend. He’s been alibied out for all the transfer times. Unless he’s able to do it in front of other people or pre-schedule, which the school’s accountant says is impossible. So it wasn’t Dante stealing money. Someone just wanted us to think that it was him.”

“Which is why you’re talking to the council. Do you think someone will just admit they were framing him?”

“No, but they may grumble about his always getting away with something. Or be too overly happy that Dante was cleared. Sometimes, it’s the little things that make me curious in an interview.” He chuckled. “Like when I caught you and Seth heading out of town that night for the Denver concert with beer in the cooler.”

“I didn’t buy it,” Cat smiled at the memory.

“Neither did Seth, but the look on his face when I stopped you just inside town told me the whole story. Something was happening that night. The cooler just proved it. I need to thank him for the beer one day. I put it in my fridge and had one when I got off shift. It was high-end stuff. His contact knew what he was buying.”

“I think it was his cousin. Seth felt horrible about it as we drove to Denver. He kept apologizing to me for making me look bad in front of you.”

“He’s a good man, you need to remember that.”

“And with that trip down memory lane, I need to get to my writers’ session. Call me if you hear from Grace. I’m worried.”

Cat tucked the phone into her pocket and headed toward the living room. As she passed by Seth’s apartment door, she wondered if the trip down memory lane was her uncle’s way of pointing out that she and Seth had history and she needed to take the next step with him. She knew he hadn’t liked the idea of her helping Dante.

What was it with the men in her life that made them think she didn’t have a brain? Like helping Dante with one party would just sweep her off her feet and she’d run off and marry the mob prince without thinking about Seth.

Micheal . Uncle Pete thinks that is what happened between her and Michael. The difference was that she and Seth had ended things before she even went out with Michael. Seth had moved to Washington to live his life, she was still here, in grad school. Besides, they were good right now.

At least she thought so.

Seth came out of the door and almost ran into her. “Hey, I thought I’d come to your writing sprint tonight. I’ve been thinking about making a second walking trail course for the guests. Maybe one they can do on their own.”

“That’s a great idea. We’re doing a summary session, then I think Debra’s doing a reading of her pages. I think there’s an extra copy if you want to stay for the whole thing. Then sprints will start about seven.”

He grinned at her, the crook in his lips making her smile. “In for a penny, I guess. I’m getting some cookies first.”

She watched him head to the dining room and not for the first time, wondered how her life had turned out this wonderful.

Now all she had to do was figure out who took the school’s money, who killed Allen, and, find Grace Evans. Life was never perfect.