Mummified Meringues (14 page)

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Authors: Leighann Dobbs

Tags: #Mystery: Cozy - Bakery - Amateur Sleuths

BOOK: Mummified Meringues
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“Holes? For what?” Lexy asked.

Jack shook his head. “I have no idea. She said they were the size of Mason jars. But no neighbors noticed because there was no dirt mounded up—someone had dug them up and put the dirt back. You had to be standing right on top of them to notice.”

“Did she notify the police?” Ruth asked.

“Yep. I read the report. They went out, but didn’t find anything amiss. There’s nothing about the holes in the report. I guess they didn’t notice them, or maybe the landlady made them up so she could keep the deposit.”

Ida’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “Do you think he buried the money from the insurance scam in those holes?”

Jack shrugged. “Maybe, but if he did, then someone else dug them up.”

“The killer!” Helen said over the rim of her teacup.

“Possibly,” Jack said. “And there’s one more thing. The landlady said there was more damage than the security deposit covered, so she went to the bank the rental checks were drawn on to see if she could contact the person writing those checks. The bank manager said that account had been closed and no forwarding address had been left. When she checked the company name on the check, no such company existed.”

“This case is getting very strange,” Ida said.

“And it’s about to get even more so.” Ruth pointed out the window.
 

Lexy turned to look out the window. Her stomach twisted when she saw what Ruth was pointing at. Watson Davies was making a beeline for Lexy’s bakery, and she looked as mad as a cat in a tub full of water.
 

***

“I knew I would find you all together in here!” Davies stood in front of them, her hands on her hips, looking from one to the other.

“Have you come to arrest one of us?” Ida asked.

“Arrest you? No, I came to join forces with you.” She grabbed a chair, jostled Ruth out of the way and pulled the chair up to the table in between Ruth and Helen.

“Now, there’s a first,” Ida said.

“Not really. I’ve worked with Mona quite a bit on other cases.” Davies looked around the table.” Where
is
Mona, anyway?

The ladies and Lexy exchanged a look.
 

“She had other business to tend to,” Ida said primly.

“Really? It’s not like her to miss out on a pow-wow about a case. That
is
what you are doing, right?” Davies chewed her bottom lip, then continued without waiting for them to answer. “This isn’t good, not good at all.”

“Why don’t you tell us what’s going on,” Jack prompted.

Davies sighed and slumped back in her seat. “The Feds have taken over the mummy case.”

Jacks brows shot up. “The Feds? What would they want with this case?”

Davies shrugged. “Near as I can figure, they’re interested in the insurance scam.”

“You know about that?” Lexy asked incredulously. She couldn’t believe any of the neighbors had opened up to Davies about it … unless she’d talked to Johnston—he seemed eager to tell anyone about it.

Davies raised a perfectly plucked brow at her. “Of course I do. I
am
a detective, you know. A
real
detective.”

“Well, miss smarty pants,” Helen said. “Then you should be able to figure out why the Feds are here.”

“It’s got to be the insurance … I know Earl turned up in town under an assumed name. He was probably scamming people in other states and the Feds were tracking him.”

Jack made a face. “But that was over fifty years ago. You think they’re still interested?”

Davies spread her hands. “They must be. I’m not sure what they are up to, but I know one thing. I’m not going to let them show me up on this one. I intend to find the killer before they do and show them the BRPD is just as good as they are.”
 

“I can’t argue with that.” Jack tipped his coffee mug toward her. “You want a coffee?”

Davies nodded. Jack went over to the self-serve station and Davies leaned forward, her elbows on the table. “So, I want to join forces. I’ll tell you what I know if you tell me what you know.”

The ladies looked at each other, then gave each other the secret nod. Then they looked at Jack, who had returned with the coffee.

“Okay, go ahead.” Jack waved his hand to indicate his approval and they spent the next twenty minutes bringing Davies up to speed on what they knew, including the receipt Sprinkles had snatched from the basement.
 

“That’s pretty much what I know, too,” Davies said once Ida was done. “I didn’t know about the receipt. We can’t be sure where the dog grabbed that from, but I will go to the pub and see what I can find out. I talked to Nesbaum already. He doesn’t know anything. He claims he was refinishing the McDonalds’ basement and they called him halfway through and asked him to stop.”

“Why would they do that?”

Davies shrugged. “Either he’s lying or the McDonalds were involved. I did verify that the McDonalds
were
in Europe that summer, though, so I don’t see how
they
could have been the ones to put the body in there.”

“Someone else must have done it,” Ruth said.

“The stranger,” Lexy suggested.

“What if this stranger killed Earl and called Nesbaum pretending to be the McDonalds, then hid the body in the basement and finished it off himself?”

“It seems like the
stranger
would have had to have known an awful lot about what was going on in the neighborhood, then,” Jack said. “And how could he have done that without anyone noticing? Surely, one of the neighbors would have seen something going on. The McDonalds must have had someone looking after their place.”

Lexy looked down at her half-empty coffee cup, her stomach swooping. Nans always knew what was going on in the neighborhood—wouldn’t she have noticed?

“We need to find out more about this stranger,” Davies said. “And there’s one other thing. The Feds think a woman was involved.”

“Why?” Ida asked.

“They found lavender sachets in with the mummy.”

“That’s right,” Lexy said. “I remember seeing them. At first I thought they were potatoes.”

Davies gave her a strange look.

“Why would anyone put sachets in there?” Helen asked.

“We figure it was to hide the smell,” Davies replied. “A lot of women used them back in the fifties. They put them in their drawers to make their clothes smell nice. Lexy, did your grandmother use lavender sachets?”

Lexy’s heart squeezed.
Did
Nans use them? The smell from the mummy room, or at least one of the smells, had been vaguely familiar. Had she recognized the scent of lavender because she remembered Nans clothes smelling like that when she was a little girl?
 

“I don’t think so,” Lexy said. Was Davies implying that she thought Nans was involved? Lexy made a mental note to check Nans’ drawers next time she was at the apartment just to be sure. “Anyway, the people I talked to said the stranger was a man.”

“Yeah, I know.” Davies said. “A tall man with bushy blond hair.”

“Tall with blond hair?” Lexy screwed up her face and looked at the ceiling trying to remember exactly what Floyd Nichols had told her. “No, I’m pretty sure Floyd Nichols told me he was short with a dark beard.”

Davies shook her head. “The McDonalds told me he was tall and blond.”

“But they weren’t home. They just heard about the stranger from other people,” Lexy pointed out. “Maybe they got the description wrong … not to mention they seem to be a little … unreliable.”

“You’ve got a point,” Davies said. “We’ll ask Mona. She was around back then, and with her keen eye for detail, she’ll be able to describe him. Not only that, but I bet she can help us straighten this mess out. She’s pretty sharp about this stuff. Where did you say she is?”

“Busy,” Ida said. “But there’s one thing that puzzles me.”

“What?”

“Everyone agrees the stranger was a man, right?”

“Right.”

“Well, then, if that’s the case, he probably didn’t load that room up with the sachets, which begs the question … who was the woman who helped him?”

Chapter Sixteen

Lexy closed the bakery shortly after the meeting. Cassie had baked the meringue cookies to perfection and they sat perfectly lined up on the baking sheet, cooling in the oven. She popped one of the pink confections into her mouth, letting it melt on her tongue.
 

Did they need more sugar?
 

She’d eaten so many of them over the past few days, it was impossible to tell. She placed two dozen of them carefully in a white bakery box and headed home … well, not exactly home. She had made a little bit of a detour to the Sullivans’ house, just two houses down from Jack’s.

Mary Sullivan answered the door. Intelligent green eyes set wide in a heart-shaped face smiled at Lexy, and Lexy realized Mary was still a beauty even in her late seventies. No wonder Earl had put the moves on her.

“What a surprise. It’s nice to see you, Lexy.” Despite her words, Mary didn’t seem all that surprised.

Lexy held up the box of cookies. “I brought you some cookies from my bakery. It’s my new recipe for the Brook Ridge Dessert contest.”

“Oh, how nice.” Mary took the box from her and gestured for her to come in. “Paddy, look who’s here.”

Paddy Sullivan appeared in the kitchen doorway, his bald head showing patches of gray on the side. His face was etched with wrinkles, but his eyes were still bright and intelligent. He smiled at Lexy.
 

“Hi, Lexy. It’s nice of you to stop over.” He stepped aside, then pulled out a kitchen chair for Lexy and she sat at the pine plank kitchen table, her lips turning up at the corners in appreciation of the gentlemanly gesture.
 

“I was just telling Mona we don’t see enough of you,” Mary said as she bustled around the country-style kitchen, getting a plate and arranging the cookies on it.

“Oh, did you see her recently?”

Mary and Paddy exchanged a look.
 

“Well, not recently.” Mary slid the plate onto the table. “I think we saw her at the senior book sale last month. Right, Paddy?”

“Yes, I think that’s the last time we saw her,” Paddy said, his focus on transferring the cookies to the smaller plate Mary had put in front of him.

“This was a lovely gesture to bring us your cookies. Do you need feedback on your recipe?” Mary asked.

 
“I’d love some,” Lexy replied. “But actually, I have a question.”

“Oh.” Mary shot up out of her chair and headed to the stove, then half turned to look at Lexy. “Tea?”

“Yes, thanks.”

“So, tell us about this dessert contest.” Paddy took a bite of cookie.

“It’s the yearly contest, but that’s not why I came.”

Paddy stopped chewing and looked directly at Lexy, his brows ticking up a fraction of an inch.

“You probably know about the discovery in Jack’s basement,” Lexy continued.

Mary blanched as she set a dainty porcelain cup with a teabag on a string in front of Lexy. “Yes, terrible to think that was right under our noses”

“Sure is.” Paddy reached absently for another cookie, his eyes never leaving Lexy’s face.

“You know it was Earl Schute, right?” Lexy asked.

“We heard.”
 

“I know he lived in the neighborhood for a short time. How well did you know him?”

“Hardly at all.” Paddy’s reply was abrupt. “He lived down on the other street.”

“We didn’t associate with him,” Mary added.

“No? Sam down at the pub said you had a run-in with him more than once.”

Lexy pretended to watch the steam curl out of her cup as the Sullivan’s exchanged a startled look.

Mary put her dainty, porcelain-white hand over Paddy’s larger, work-scarred one. “I guess we should tell her.”

Lexy perked up … now she was getting somewhere!

Paddy nodded. “It’s true, we did have a run-in. You see, Earl took a liking to my Mary and I just couldn’t have him pressing his amorous intentions on her, so I had to show him what-not.”

“My hero.” Mary smiled up at Paddy and he returned the look. Lexy could practically feel true love radiating from them and her heart pinched—she sure hoped she wouldn’t have to send the lovebirds to jail for murder.

“Just what, exactly, do you mean by ‘what not?’ Lexy asked.

“I told him in no uncertain terms to leave her alone.” Paddy’s face took on a sheepish look. “And maybe I got a little physical, too.”

“How physical?” Lexy asked.

“Well, I didn’t kill him if that’s what you’re asking.” Paddy avoided Lexy’s eyes by digging for another cookie. “He deserved what he got, though.”

Mary nodded solemnly in agreement and Lexy decided not to press them. She figured it wouldn’t get her anywhere to accuse Paddy, especially not without solid evidence.

“Is it true the McDonalds were on vacation that summer?”

“You mean the summer Earl died?” Paddy asked.
 

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