No Scone Unturned

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No Scone Unturned Page 6

by Dobbs, Leighann


  “It’s addressed to Brent Chambers, 121 Forest Ave., Oakdale, Kentucky,” Ida said.

  “Brent? Why does that name sound familiar?” Ruth asked.

  “I think that’s the name of her son. Isn’t that what Kingsley said?” Nans asked.

  “Yes, it was. I remember distinctly,” Lexy answered.

  “So, it looks like she was sending a letter to the son.” Helen’s eyes got misty. “I hope she’s trying to reconcile with him. I can’t imagine what it would be like to be estranged from my son.”

  “Well, that’s nice,” Ida said. “But it doesn’t help us with the investigation. And if we don’t get a move on to get my drone back, I’m going to be the one that’s estranged from my grandson.”

  “This might give us another lead,” Nans said.

  “But he lives all the way in Kentucky. And he hasn’t been in touch with his mother. I doubt he knows anything that’s going on.” Ida looked disgusted.

  A movement at the end of the street caught Lexy’s eye, and she glanced down to see the mail truck. Nans must’ve seen it too, because she said in a hushed voice, “Put that back in the mailbox, Ida. The mailman is coming.”

  “Yeah, it’s a federal offense to tamper with the mail,” Helen said.

  “I wasn’t tampering. I was just looking.” Ida held the letter out to the mailman. “Susan wanted to make sure this got mailed.”

  The mailman accepted it with a nod then passed a pile of mail to Ida, which she stuffed into the box as the others started back to the car.

  “At least we know Susan was home earlier today. Otherwise her mailbox would’ve been full,” Nans said.

  “And we know she wants to reach out to the son,” Ruth added.

  “But the question is, does that have something to do with her sister’s murder?” Helen asked.

  “Time will tell.” Nans turned to Ida. “For now, I say we take a drive over to the Pendleton place and see if we can dig up the drone. I don’t think Rupert knows about it, so it’s gotta still be out there in the yard with the incriminating video. If we can find the video, then we’ll be home free.”

  “And if we can’t?” Ruth asked.

  “Then it looks like we have a lot more research to do.”

  9

  The darkening sky dampened Lexy’s spirits as she drove the short distance to the Pendleton house. Tomorrow was the Kingsleys’ brunch, and she didn’t want it to be cancelled because of bad weather.

  “I hope we’re not in for a rainy spell.” She anxiously eyed the dark clouds moving in overhead.

  Ruth whipped out her iPad. “The weather application says rain tonight, but tomorrow should be okay. We should be all set for the Kingsley event that we’re catering.”

  Lexy narrowed her eyes at the rearview mirror. “We?”

  “Why yes. It seemed to me that Caspian Kingsley was very much looking forward to us assisting you. Isn’t that right, girls?”

  “Yes. In fact, I would say we are probably what sold your services to him.”

  Lexy chuckled as she pulled up to the curb a few houses down from the Pendletons’. “Gee, really? And I thought I had secured the job over the phone all on my own days before. Well, good thing I have you guys by my side.”

  “Darn tootin’.” Nans hopped out of the car, pulling the seat forward to let the other ladies out of the back.

  Ida was already digging in her purse. She pulled out the controller and hurried up to the sidewalk, calling over her shoulder. “We’re in luck. It looks like no one’s home. We can do a thorough search. I just hope those attack dogs aren’t out.”

  She stopped at the southeast corner of the property, pushing a few buttons on the controller. She pulled the joysticks this way and that, her eyes scanning the yard the whole time. “Do you ladies see any activity? It could be buried under something, maybe some old leaves. Do you see any moving?”

  Lexy scanned along with them, but she didn’t see any movement.

  “Let’s try over here.” Nans walked over to the front facing the house. “We don’t know where the dogs would’ve hidden it, but there’s a stone bench over there and the remnants of what looks like a rock garden. Those seem like likely places, don’t they, Lexy?”

  “Sprinkles likes to hide her toys under things, and those would work,” Lexy said.

  They stayed on the sidewalk. The range of the controller was more than adequate from the sidewalk, so they didn’t have to step onto the Pendleton property. But much as Ida tried, they did not see any sign of the drone.

  “Maybe it’s run out of batteries?” Ruth said.

  “How much life did it have left in it?” Helen asked.

  Ida pressed her lips together. “I don’t know. Jason never said. ’Course, he didn’t know I was gonna be flying it.”

  Ida cast about desperately, and Lexy could tell she was really getting worried about what might happen if she had to tell Jason she’d lost the drone. The neighbors on one side had a chain-link fence delineating their property from the Pendletons’. Old shrubs, a woodpile, and part of a stone wall ran next to it.

  Lexy pointed to it. “This looks like a good place for the dogs to hide something.”

  Ida ran over, skulking along the edge of the fence, her fingers gripping the controllers, twisting this way and that, angling her head to see if there was any movement.

  “If it’s wedged between any of these rocks, though, it won’t be able to move much,” Helen said. “Maybe we should start looking under them.”

  Lexy glanced around at the yard and the house. She didn’t see anyone moving around. If Rupert wasn’t home, than what was the harm in looking under a few rocks? “Okay, but I think we better be quick. Rupert might come home, and besides I need to get to the bakery.”

  “I’ll be quick.” Nans bent down and started flipping over rocks. “We wouldn’t want you to run short on pastries.”

  “Certainly not!” Ida said.

  “Especially since you eat most of them,” Helen added good-naturedly.

  Lexy joined them, flipping over rocks and stones and looking under old rotted logs. But all they found were spiders and slugs. They were almost ready to give up when…

  “Woof!”

  “Snarl!”

  “Growl!”

  “It’s the killer dogs!” Ida dropped the controller and held her hands up, palms out. The dogs stopped in front of them, barking and snapping.

  Lexy had to admit they did look a little ferocious, but she doubted the tiny balls of fur would hurt them.

  “They’re probably just protecting their territory by instinct. I’m sure they’re harmless.” She bent down and held her hand out for them to sniff. “Here doggie, doggie.”

  They stopped their snarling and looked at Lexy curiously, tilting their heads from side to side. The black one ventured over, sniffing at her fingers. The apricot one followed, letting Lexy pat it behind the ears. She turned back to look up at the ladies, who were standing with their backs against the fence. “See? They’re harmless.”

  “What are you doing trespassing in my yard?!”

  Lexy jerked her head back around to see Rupert storming out from the back of the house.

  “Dang. I don’t think he’s as harmless as his dogs,” Ruth said.

  Rupert stormed up to them, his face contorted in anger.

  “Heya!” He snapped his fingers, and the dogs reluctantly turned from Lexy and ran to his side. “Aren’t you the same busybodies that were here the other day?”

  Nans straightened indignantly. “We’re not busybodies. We are fans.”

  Rupert’s eyes snapped to Ida, who was bending down to pick up her controller. “What’s that thing she’s got? Isn’t she the senile one?”

  “That’s right.” Nans leaned forward and whispered, “I wouldn’t rile her up. Don’t ask what that thing is that she has. You’ll be sorry.”

  Rupert frowned at Ida then glanced uncertainly back at the house. “Well, you ladies are trespassing. I told yo
u before, we don’t like fans to just show up. Do I have to call the police?”

  “No. No police. We just saw your dogs, and since we are dog lovers, we wanted to come over and pet them,” Lexy said.

  “Oh, come on, Lexy, tell the truth,” Ruth said. The rest of them shot her quizzical looks.

  “You know as well as I do,” Ruth continued, “that we were here to get a glimpse of Olive Pendleton.”

  “Oh, right,” Nans said, following Ruth’s lead. “That’s right. You’re her husband, right? Is she inside?” Nans made a point of trying to look around Rupert’s shoulder.

  Rupert eyed them suspiciously. “No. She’s not inside.”

  “Well, it is kind of funny that she’s never around when we come here,” Helen said. “Almost as if you are hiding something.”

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but my wife is in Europe.” Rupert pulled his phone out of his back pocket, thumbed through a few screens, then turned it toward them. “See? She took this picture just yesterday. You can see her standing there plain as day with her sister, holding up the Paris paper with her picture on it. She has a new book release next week, and her books are very popular in France, so they did a little article and featured her in the paper.”

  They all craned their necks toward the phone. Lexy’s brows pinched together in puzzlement as she stared at the picture. It was Olive Pendleton, with another woman who looked a lot like her, holding up a paper. They were the same height and had the same hair color and style, but their facial features were different. Where one had delicate features, the other was chiseled in stone. Sisters. The Eiffel Tower loomed in the background.

  Lexy’s heart tumbled when she saw the date on the paper. It was yesterday’s date. If what she was seeing was correct, Olive Pendleton was in France and very much alive.

  10

  “Those photos could be photoshopped,” Ruth said later that day as they sat around Nans' dining room table.

  “I know photos can be photoshopped, but do you really think those were?” Nans picked a brownie off the crystal platter in the center of the table. “Rupert doesn’t seem savvy enough.”

  “How would he even do that?” Helen asked. “They looked like genuine pictures of France, and there was the newspaper…oh, but if he was in on it with the sister, maybe she took the picture and photoshopped Olive into it.”

  “But the sister isn’t in Europe, because she put that letter in her mailbox,” Ida pointed out.

  “Hmm…” Nans pressed her lips together then snapped her fingers. “Wait! Today is Monday. Susan could have put that letter in on Saturday. The mailman doesn’t come on weekends anymore.”

  “Plenty of time for her to take an overnight flight to Europe and be in Paris in time to get the paper,” Lexy said.

  “Right.” Nans turned to Ruth. “Ruth, you know the most about this sort of thing. Did it look altered to you?”

  “I didn’t get close enough to say for sure, unfortunately.” Ruth picked a lemon square off the tray. “But if I had to guess, I’d say it was altered.”

  “It had to have been. Olive couldn’t possibly be in France. We saw her die,” Lexy said.

  Ida picked up a sugar cube with the bird-claw tongs, hovered over her coffee, and then dropped it in with a splash. “Maybe that wasn’t Olive.”

  Lexy glanced at the whiteboard. “But you have all that evidence. It all points to Olive being killed.”

  “Only because that was the original assumption. We made the evidence to prove that Rupert would want to kill Olive, but maybe we were wrong all along,” Nans said.

  “No. No.” Ruth shook her head. “That picture is all part of Rupert’s plan. He wants the world to think Olive is still alive, and what better way than to have an actual picture of her? And her being in France would explain why she doesn’t show up for the book signing scheduled next week for her new book.”

  “Good point. That would be a clever plan,” Lexy said.

  “At any rate, someone is still dead, and my bet is that Rupert killed them.” Nans stood in front of the whiteboard. “Let’s discuss our new clues.”

  “Something really bothers me. Those cash deposits—they might indicate a different motive for the murder,” Ruth said.

  “You mean blackmail?” Ida asked.

  “Yes. What if Olive was blackmailing someone, and that’s why she was killed?” Ruth suggested.

  “But Rupert killed Olive. She wouldn’t be blackmailing him, would she?” Helen asked.

  Ruth shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. But how do we know for sure that Rupert is the killer?”

  Lexy leaned back in her chair. Ruth had a point. They’d assumed Rupert was the killer because Rupert and Olive lived in the house. Could the killer be someone else?

  “If it’s not Rupert, then why would he photoshop the pictures to pretend Olive was alive?” Ida asked.

  Ruth pressed her lips together and nodded at Ida. “Good point. Maybe they aren’t photoshopped.”

  Helen threw her hands up in the air. “So, where does that leave us then?”

  “A big fat nowhere,” Nans said. “The only thing we’re sure of is that someone died and someone else is hiding the body.”

  Ruth got up and paced the room. “Okay, let’s see what we have so far. Someone was killed by someone else inside the Pendleton home. So that means the killer is either one of the Pendletons or someone who has access to the house.”

  “The sister had access to the house,” Ida said.

  “And the assistant. Kingsley said he saw her there quite often,” Lexy said.

  “He said he saw another woman. He thought it might be her assistant or a maid,” Ruth said.

  “It makes sense an assistant would be there. Probably went there every day or on most days. Connie Davis. Google her, Ruth, and see what you can find,” Nans said.

  “I’m on it,” Ruth replied.

  “Now the other things we have.” Nans took over for Ruth, pacing the room. “Those mysterious cashier’s checks. That could indicate blackmail. Or perhaps they were buying property or making a big purchase.”

  Ruth looked up from her iPad. “I didn’t find any record of them buying property.”

  “It’s too bad there’s no way for us to tap into their bank accounts and see how they are moving money around.” Nans glanced at Ruth out of the corner of her eye. “Is there, Ruth?”

  “Not legally…”

  “Illegally?”

  “I might know someone,” Ruth said. “But I think we should track down the other clues first before we stoop to that.”

  “Right. Jack might not like that.” Nans shot Lexy a look, and she nodded.

  “Whatever it is, I’m pretty sure the sister must be mixed up in it,” Helen said. “Because either she is in on photoshopping the pictures, or she’s in Europe with Olive. And we know Olive was home the day of the murder because Rupert said she was at the house napping. He didn’t say she was in Europe. Unless, of course, he was lying then, too.”

  “Well, at least this part is the truth.” Ruth tapped the screen of her iPad. “There really was an article about Olive in the Paris paper yesterday. But I can’t find any record of her flying out there. My friend Janet gave me travel agent access, and I didn’t see her in the database.”

  “Could she be flying under another name?” Nans asked. “I know celebrities sometimes use a different name in the public database to keep the paparazzi at bay. Their real name is listed officially, of course, but that’s only on the internal records. Some of them even have people stand in for them at minor social events.”

  “I hardly think Olive Pendleton rates as a celebrity,” Helen said.

  “You’d be surprised.” Nans shrugged. “Novelists can be very popular.”

  “If Olive wasn’t the one on that plane, then that only supports my theory of the pictures being photoshopped,” Ruth said.

  “Which means the sister is in on it,” Helen added.

  “Which supports my theory o
f an affair,” Ida said.

  “Looks like we only know one thing for sure. Someone was murdered. It could be love or money. An affair or blackmail,” Nans said. “Either way, it looks like Rupert Pendleton is hiding something.”

  11

  The next morning, Lexy was glad to take a break from investigating and focus on affairs at her bakery. Her assistant and best friend since high school, Cassie, was helping her finalize the menu for the Kingsley brunch the next day. They didn’t have a lot of customer action, so they hung out in the kitchen, mixing and baking their usual cookies, cupcakes, bars, and pies while discussing the Kingsleys’ menu and taking turns running out front to service the customers that came in.

  “I already have several different quiches planned,” Lexy said as she poured a tablespoon of vanilla extract into the batch of sugar cookies she was mixing. “But I think we should make up some finger sandwiches, too. I have a great cranberry chicken salad recipe.”

  “That sounds delish.” Cassie was bent over at the waist, her eyes level with the table, her pink-tipped, spiked blonde hair bobbing up and down like a bird’s crest as she applied turquoise fondant hearts to the side of a cake. Lexy had hired Cassie when she’d first opened the bakery because she knew she could trust her. Since then, Cassie had become quite adept at cake decorating and was proving to be an excellent baker herself.

  “So, what is going on with the Pendleton case?” Cassie asked. Lexy had told Cassie all about the murder they’d witnessed with Ida’s drone and had been keeping her up to date with the subsequent events. In return, Cassie, who was married to Jack’s partner John Darling, promised to pass along anything she heard from John.

  “Oh! Did I forget to tell you? Yesterday, Rupert showed us pictures on his iPhone of Olive in France!”

  Cassie’s head jerked up from her task. “You mean she’s not dead?”

  “No, we still think she’s dead. Ruth said that he could have photoshopped them to make it look like she is alive and in Europe.”

  “That’s true. My brother does a lot with Photoshop, and he makes all kinds of crazy memes and other weird photos.” Cassie bent back down to her task. “So you think the husband did that to perpetuate this plan of pretending she’s still alive. What do you think he’s done with the body, though? John said it’s pretty hard to hide a body for any length of time.”

 

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