Framed in Cherry Hills (Cozy Cat Caper Mystery Book 2) Read online

  Raoul stuck his hand out. “Raoul Leon.”

  Kat barely even felt the handshake, her arm going limp. “Leon?” Hadn’t Dan mentioned that Willow was stopped by a cop named Leon? He’d claimed Leon was a first name, but what if it wasn’t? What if Willow’s arresting officer was the man standing before her now?

  Raoul chuckled as he sat down opposite Andrew. “Last I checked.”

  Kat examined the dark-skinned, dark-haired Hispanic as surreptitiously as she could. With his muscular build and the way he carried himself, he certainly had the air of a cop.

  As if reading her mind, Andrew said, “Raoul just transferred to our force from Wenatchee PD a few months ago.”

  “Oh, you’re a police officer.” Kat hoped she sounded as if this was news to her.

  He grinned. “Last I checked, though here I spend more time hanging out in the weeds waiting for something to happen than doing what you would call challenging police work. In Wenatchee I got to work narcotics.”

  Andrew laughed. “You’ll be off traffic duty soon enough. It just so happened you transferred at a time when that was the only position available, but everybody at the station knows you’re overqualified.”

  Kat regarded Raoul. “You aren’t the Officer Leon who pulled over a Willow Wu Saturday morning, are you?”

  Raoul straightened, his chest puffing out a little. “That would be me.”

  Kat’s brain raced as she considered the implications of having the traffic cop who had stopped Willow in her section of the restaurant. “How exactly did that play out?” she asked, itching to hear his version of the events.

  “Wasn’t nothing to it, really. Lady had both her taillights out so I pulled her over. When she went for her registration, the coke fell out of the glove box.”

  “She had a bag of coke stashed right in the front of her glove compartment?” Kat asked.

  Raoul nodded. “I saw it with my own eyes.” He sounded proud to be recognized for his efforts to remove a hardened drug offender from the streets of Cherry Hills.

  Andrew, on the other hand, was eyeing Kat with unmasked suspicion. She wanted to write off his reaction to him being a police detective. Being suspicious of people and their motives was likely an occupational hazard.

  Unfortunately, he could also read Kat like a book.

  Kat angled her body sideways so she could better ignore Andrew. “Having worked narcotics on the Wenatchee force, you must have a good idea of where to hide drugs in a car, right?”

  Raoul lifted one huge shoulder. “I guess.”

  “Short of setting something right on top of the seats, is there a worse hiding spot than the glove compartment?” Kat asked.

  “The broad probably figured she’s above the law and would never get pulled over.”

  “Still, anybody with any common sense would know to hide their drugs somewhere less obvious,” Kat countered. “That bag would have been better concealed even if she’d just tossed it under her seat.”

  Raoul’s eyes darkened as he scrutinized her. “What are you insinuating, that I planted that bag?”

  Kat spread her palms. “Oh, no, I’m not suggesting anything like that.” Although, she had to admit it was an interesting theory, one she should give more consideration to. “I’m just trying to understand the circumstances.”

  “I told you the circumstances,” Raoul said, his voice clipped.

  “And they sound mighty strange to me.”

  “What’s your interest in this, Kat?” Andrew interjected.

  Although she would have preferred that he kept his mouth shut, she couldn’t very well ignore him now. “Willow and I have a friend in common who claims she’s innocent,” Kat said, deciding to be honest.

  “Innocent?” Raoul frowned, as if this possibility had never occurred to him before. Naturally, it wouldn’t, Kat figured. When a bag of cocaine fell out of a glove box, the logical conclusion was that it belonged to the car’s owner.

  “She thinks somebody set Willow up to be arrested,” Kat went on.

  Raoul bent closer. “It’s because she’s Asian, right?”

  Kat tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

  “Nobody ever believes those Asians do drugs, but, let me assure you, I’ve seen it all.”

  An uneasy feeling stirred in Kat’s stomach. She detected a bite to Raoul’s tone and had to wonder if he wanted Willow to be guilty because of her race.

  Raoul crossed his arms over his chest, his face hard. “Now, us Latinos, people will believe the worst about us without a second thought. They think we’re all about crossing the border illegally and living off the government, but, let me tell you, some of the hardest working people I know are Latino.”

  “Oh,” Kat floundered, unsure how to respond.

  “Nobody is implying anything of the sort,” Andrew said. “I believe Kat is just checking up on some concerns voiced by a friend, aren’t you, Kat?”

  She bobbed her head furiously. “Yes, that’s it. It just seems that in Willow’s case, specifically, everybody who knows her is surprised by this drug accusation.”

  Raoul’s jaw remained clenched for a long moment before his arms fell back down to his sides and his face softened. “Well, I don’t know what your friends are saying, but I know what I saw, and what I saw was a bag of coke in that broad’s car.”

  “Glad that’s settled.” Andrew made a big show of plucking a menu out from behind the napkin holder. “So, Raoul, what’re you getting? I’m thinking I need a big meal, since I’ll be working late tonight. I have so much paperwork I’m in danger of getting buried.”

  Raoul studied Kat for a moment longer before reaching for his own menu.

  Kat gulped down her desire to talk about Willow Wu some more. The last thing she needed was to give an angry ex-narcotics cop a reason to frame her for drug possession too.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Kat dwelled on her conversation with Raoul as she drove to Imogene’s house. Apparently she’d touched upon a hot topic with the officer when she’d suggested that Willow had been framed. She didn’t know if his defensive attitude was rooted in a lifetime of being unfairly stereotyped or if he was covering up something larger, but she couldn’t shake one recurring question.

  Had Raoul Leon framed Willow Wu?

  Dan hadn’t talked about Willow’s arresting officer as if either of the Wus knew him, so Kat had a hard time coming up with a motive for Raoul to plant that bag besides flat-out racism. Or, she thought, her brain buzzing, could Raoul’s position on the force have driven him to set up a drug bust in order to better his chances of moving up the ranks of the Cherry Hills Police Department? Maybe busting Willow for drug possession provided him with just the leverage he needed to be promoted off traffic duty.

  The suspicions swirled through Kat’s head as she pulled into Imogene’s driveway. Imogene had called earlier and asked Kat to stop by at her first available opportunity. She hadn’t sounded pleased, and Kat worried that something else had happened since they had parted company on Saturday.

  Imogene came dashing out of her house before Kat even climbed out of her car. “I’m glad you’re here,” she said, rushing over to grab Kat’s bicep as if she were afraid she might get away.

  Kat extracted her arm before following Imogene into the house. “You sounded pretty upset on the phone. Do you have news on Willow’s case?”

  Imogene slammed the front door shut hard enough for Kat to wince. “You’re not going to believe this.”

  “What happened?”

  “Willow has officially been charged.”

  “And?” Kat asked, bracing herself.

  Imogene’s nostrils flared. “And she’s not only facing charges for drug possession, but intent to sell too.”

  Kat’s heart stopped beating. It took her a moment before she felt capable of asking, “How do they figure that?”

  Imogene stomped through her living room and into her home office. “Because of the volume of cocaine recovered from her car.”
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  Kat had to hurry to keep up. “How much was there?”

  “I have no idea. But this means we’ll have to work doubly hard to find out who’s behind all this madness.” Imogene’s eyes flashed. “Do you know how much more awful this new charge is?”

  Kat shook her head, feeling numb.

  “She could end up in prison. She could be locked up for a decade.”

  Kat heard the worry in her friend’s voice and couldn’t prevent the shiver that traveled down her spine. She fell into more than sat down in one of the guest chairs. “Has Dan found her a lawyer yet?”

  Imogene slumped into her own chair behind the desk. “Yes, thank goodness. A man named Gladstone. I don’t know anything about him.”

  “He has a good reputation though?”

  Imogene shrugged. “Dan didn’t say. And regardless of how good he is, we can’t rely on him to get to the truth. All he’s concerned about is getting the charges against Willow dropped or reduced. We need to nab the snake who did this so he can’t go after her again later.”

  Kat considered that, having to admit her friend had a valid point.

  Imogene snapped forward in her seat, her elbows landing on the desk. “Do you know what these sorts of accusations are going to do to Willow’s reputation?”

  “But if she’s innocent . . .”

  Imogene puckered her lips. “This is still going to tarnish her image. People don’t take kindly to seeing their kid’s teacher in the news for drug dealing. And once you face accusations for something this serious, there will always be those who believe you’re guilty, even if you aren’t convicted.”

  A weight settled in Kat’s chest. She knew Imogene spoke the truth.

  “Our best bet to undo the damage is to identify the weasel who framed her. That way there’s no doubt about Willow’s innocence.” Imogene collapsed against the back of her chair. “I just wish I knew how to do that.”

  Kat’s day at Jessie’s Diner replayed in her head. Although she was tempted to brainstorm with Imogene over whether Vicky Easton might be angry enough or Raoul Leon ambitious enough to frame Willow, she feared Imogene’s desperation to clear her friend might make her too eager to accuse the wrong person. That wouldn’t be any better than Willow being falsely convicted.

  Clover wandered in. Spying Kat, he walked over for a back rub. Kat obliged, prompting the cat to jump on her lap.

  The two women sat in silence, the only noise in the room the sound of Clover purring. Kat found a certain comfort in listening to the steady thrum of his contentment and feeling his chest vibrate underneath her fingertips.

  After a long moment had passed, Imogene finally spoke. “How are Matty and Tom getting along?”

  Kat grinned. “They’re doing great. They already act as if they’ve been friends forever. When I left this morning they were curled up next to each other on the couch.”

  Imogene smiled. “That’s marvelous.”

  “I have to keep reminding myself that Tom is just a foster cat,” Kat admitted.

  Imogene’s eyes twinkled as she looked at the big white cat in Kat’s lap. “I have to remind myself of the same thing when it comes to Clover.”

  His ears pricking at the mention of his name, Clover launched himself off Kat’s thighs and leapt onto Imogene’s desk. He leaned close to his human’s face and sniffed at her nose.

  Imogene kissed the top of his head. “Don’t worry, big guy. You can stay here for as long as it takes to find you a good home.”

  Clover sat down as if to indicate he was perfectly happy where he was and didn’t have any intention of leaving.

  Imogene waggled her finger in his face. “Oh, now, don’t go tempting me.”

  Kat couldn’t help but smile as she watched the two interact. She wouldn’t be surprised if Imogene was so busy showering the animal with affection that she had forgotten about Kat’s presence altogether.

  Kat’s gaze drifted to where Clover’s fluffy white tail swept back and forth over the papers on the desk. Her eyes locked on to the words ‘Background Check’ printed in bold letters next to Clover’s rear end. She wondered if that was the form she had filled out in order to make her treasurer position on the Furry Friends Foster Families’ board official.

  Kat sucked in a breath, her mind turning in another direction as she considered the type of information that came up during a background check. Didn’t they alert to things such as prior misdemeanors, arrests, and other run-ins with the law?

  Other run-ins such as drug convictions?

  Adrenaline pumped through Kat’s system. She looked at Imogene, tempted to fill her in on what she was thinking. But she bit her tongue at the last minute, deciding it would be more prudent to approach someone with less emotional attachment in Willow’s future.

  Kat scrambled out of her seat, now anxious to get going. “I should take off.”

  Imogene stood up. “I’ll walk you out.”

  Clover looked miffed as they abandoned him, but Kat knew Imogene would give him plenty of attention after she left.

  Whether Imogene knew it yet or not, Kat suspected Clover had already found his permanent home.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Much to Kat’s relief, Andrew was still at work when she stopped by the police station. A junior officer escorted her from the lobby to the inner depths of the building.

  “This is it,” the officer said, motioning toward an open door.

  “Thanks.”

  Andrew glanced up from his computer as Kat stepped inside. “Hey there.”

  “Hi.” Kat looked around the tiny, gray room. “You have your own office.”

  He grinned, sending flutters erupting in Kat’s stomach. “One of the perks of making detective.”

  “I didn’t realize you were so high up the Cherry Hills PD totem pole.”

  “You should see the janitor’s closet. It’s got more square footage plus a sliver of a window for ventilation.”

  “Don’t knock it. At least you have a door.” Kat didn’t mention that the privacy would make it that much easier for her to talk to him about what she’d come here for. Although it was past standard working hours, the last thing she needed was for one of the more chatty officers to overhear them and start spreading Kat’s speculations around as fact.

  Andrew gestured toward the door. “You’re welcome to close it.”

  Kat obeyed, then occupied the lone visitor chair. The room was so small she couldn’t sit down without her knees grazing the front of the desk. She was careful not to move too quickly, fearful she might disturb one of the massive stacks of papers in front of her. Andrew hadn’t been joking earlier when he’d claimed to be in danger of getting buried.

  Andrew leaned back in his chair, his head bumping against the wall behind him. He didn’t seem to notice or care. Kat figured he was used to the limiting space.

  “What brings you by here today?” he prompted.

  Kat folded her hands in her lap. “Willow Wu’s arrest.”

  “What about it?”

  “The more I think about that cocaine bag falling out of her glove compartment, the less sense it makes.”

  “It does seem like an unlikely place to store drugs,” Andrew agreed. “But users aren’t always thinking clearly.”

  Kat regarded him. “Do you know her?”

  “Not personally, no.”

  “Well, after talking to some people who do, Willow hardly sounds like a druggie. If she does use, she’s most likely a casual user, which again raises questions as to why she had a bag of cocaine in her car large enough for her to be charged with intent to sell.”

  “She could be a dealer who doesn’t personally indulge,” Andrew suggested.

  “In that case, she would be really unlikely to transport drugs around in her glove compartment. A professional would have to know better than that.”

  “I understand your point.” Andrew bent forward and set his elbows on the desk. “But I’m not sure what you want me to do. The fact is that bag was
there.”

  Kat took a deep breath. “I think somebody else planted it.”

  Andrew pursed his lips. “Why would they do that?”

  “Revenge.”

  “Do you know of anybody with a grudge against Willow Wu?”

  “Vicky Easton,” Kat said. “Do you remember her from high school? She was a few years ahead of us and went by Vicky Jones back then.”

  “Sure, I remember Vicky. Tall, attractive, really into her looks.”

  Kat studied him, trying to get a feel for whether he’d disliked Vicky as much as she had, but she couldn’t read anything from his face. Maybe Vicky’s teenage hostility had been reserved for other girls.

  “What makes you suspect Vicky?” Andrew asked.

  “She came into Jessie’s Diner today.”

  “And she was high?” Andrew guessed.

  “No, at least I don’t think so.” Kat couldn’t imagine anyone high on drugs walking as smoothly in stiletto heels as Vicky had.

  Andrew’s mouth crooked. “But you think she had something to do with those drugs in Willow’s car?”

  “I’m not sure,” Kat admitted. “She just seems really angry at Willow.”

  “Angry?”

  Kat nodded. “From what I gather, she’s not happy that Willow decided to go with a catering company other than Easton’s Eats for the 4F benefit dinner. What if her resentment drove her to frame Willow? Willow visited the Eastons on Saturday morning, hours before her arrest. While she was inside the house talking to Sam, Vicky could have been in the driveway planting that cocaine and disabling the taillights of her car.”

  Andrew frowned. “We’re talking about Vicky Jones—the girl who in high school didn’t want to lift a pencil because it might break a nail—tampering with somebody’s car taillights?”

  “She might have been desperate.” Kat decided not to mention how Vicky had jumped on her son for his own dirty fingernails. That wouldn’t do much to support her theory.

  But even without that added bit of information, the skeptical expression on Andrew’s face suggested he wasn’t buying her version of events. “You think Willow’s business decision would be enough for Vicky to set her up for arrest? I’m sure people switch caterers all the time. It’s part of the business. Vicky should be used to it.”