Leighann Dobbs - Lexy Baker 10 - Mummified Meringues

by Leighann Dobbs

  “A ghost?”

  Ruth made a face. “It’s almost as if he didn’t exist before nineteen-fifty-five. The first thing I can find about him online is a listing at the address on your street. He didn’t buy that house though, he rented.”

  Lexy stared at Ruth. “Even so, he must have had a bank, especially back in the fifties where there weren’t any online payments or many credit cards. People needed to write checks back then, didn’t they? How did he cash his paycheck without having a bank account?”

  “He didn’t get a paycheck.”

  “What? He must have worked somewhere?”

  “Can’t find any record of a job.”

  “Well, that is strange. How did he get money?”

  “Apparently, he scammed it out of people,” Ida said.

  “I wouldn’t think that would be enough to make a living.” Lexy tapped her finger on the table. “So all we know is he hung around the neighborhood being a nuisance and he went to the pub.”

  “Where he was also a nuisance,” Helen pointed out.

  “And scammed people out of money,” Ruth added. “Did your contact at the bar have any other information?”

  “He said one of my neighbors, Paddy Sullivan, had an ongoing problem with Earl.”

  “Paddy Sullivan? Doesn’t he live a few houses down from Jack?” Ida asked.

  Lexy nodded. “Sam said Earl used to make passes at Paddy’s wife and it made Paddy pretty mad. He mentioned something about them fighting over it in the bar.”

  Ida’s left brow ticked up. “Jealousy is one of the prime motives for murder.”

  “I know,” Lexy said. “But I can’t believe nice old Mr. Sullivan would kill someone. Fighting’s one thing … murder is another.”

  “Very true.” Ruth pulled up a document on the iPad. “Now, let’s go over the suspects and clues.”

  “Well, there’s Violet,” Ida said. “My money’s on her. She was asking about him in the bar and she lived in that neighborhood.”

  “Then there’s the neighbor you just mentioned,” Helen said. “Paddy Sullivan.”

  “And my other neighbor, Floyd Nichols,” Lexy added. “He was seen fighting with Earl and I already know he lied to me.”

  “Let’s not forget about the McDonalds,” Helen cautioned. “After all, the body was found in their basement. We should check that they really were in Europe.”

  “And then there’s the stranger that people keep referring to,” Lexy said. “Maybe we should see if there are any newspaper articles or police reports about him.”

  “Good idea. I’ll note that as an action item.” Ruth’s gnarled fingers flew along the surface of the iPad.

  “And we still need to talk to this Bobby Nesbaum. He had access to the basement and was refinishing it, so he’s got to be involved somehow,” Ida said.

  “This is all so confusing,” Helen sighed. “I feel like a big piece is missing.”

  “The thing that is missing,” Ida said, “is motive. We need to figure out why someone killed him. Then it should be easy to figure out who the killer is.”

  Lexy’s phone chirped, notifying her of a text, and she looked at the screen. “It’s Jack. He says he has some new clues and wants to meet with us later at the bakery.”

  “Good, that’s just what we needed,” Ruth said.

  “Yeah, I could go for some scones and maybe a brownie,” Ida added.

  “No, I mean the new clues.” Ruth swatted Ida in the arm and they all laughed.

  “I could use the clues and the pastry,” Helen said. “And hopefully, Mona will show up. She lived in the neighborhood and knows all the people involved. I’m sure she can shed some light on this case.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Lexy squeezed a blob of pink, creamy meringue out of the piping bag onto the parchment-lined tray, guiding it carefully so that the result was shaped like a rose.

  “Those look great.” Cassie stood at her elbow watching her.

  “I just hope they taste as good as they look. Everyone seems to think the recipe needs more sugar, but I’ve added a whole teaspoon to this batch.” Lexy set the bag aside and picked up the tray.

  “I’ll put that in the oven for you,” Cassie said, taking the tray from her. “Don’t forget to fill out your entry form for the contest tomorrow.”

  “That’s right!” Lexy ran her fingers through her hair. With everything else going on, she’d almost forgotten about the registration. Which reminded her, she needed to visit Violet Switzer. A quick glance at her watch told her that wouldn’t happen today—it was almost time for Jack and the Ladies’ Detective Club to meet her here.

  As if reading her mind, the bells on the front door tinkled and she peeked out to see Ruth, Ida and Helen stroll in, their eyes locked on the pastry case like snipers on a target.

  “Hey, ladies, where’s Nans?” Lexy couldn’t hide the disappointment in her voice.

  Ruth shrugged. “She said she’d be by later on.”

  Lexy sighed. “Boy, she sure is taken with this new guy. Has she talked about him to any of you?”

  “No,” Helen said. “But let her do that in her own time.”

  “Good advice.” Ida rubbed her hands together. “Now, let’s get down to business. I’ll have an almond scone and a chocolate cream cheese brownie.”

  Lexy grabbed a large round plate and put Ida’s selections on it, then proceeded to pile on the choices from the other ladies, which included lemon squares, scones, brownies and a big piece of German chocolate cake.

  Lexy put the plate on one of the cafe tables while the ladies helped themselves to tea at the self-serve station. Then they sat down, spread their napkins out and wrapped half of the pastries inside, then slipped them into their giant, patent-leather purses.

  Lexy made herself a dark roast and sat down at the table just as Jack came through the door.

  “Good, you guys are already here.” He bent and pressed a kiss on the top of Lexy’s head then made his way over to the self-serve station for a coffee before pulling a chair up to the table.

  “So, tell us this big clue.” Ida assessed him with her keen blue eyes.

  Jack narrowed his honey-brown ones at her. “You go first.”

  Ida pinched a corner off her scone and popped it in her mouth as she told Jack how they couldn’t come up with anything on Earl prior to nineteen-fifty-five and how Nessbaum seemed clean.

  “Of course that could just mean this Nessbaum character hasn’t been caught yet,” Helen added. “He could still be involved.”

  Jack nodded and leaned back in his chair. “Right. I found out something interesting about Earl, too. It seems no one missed him after he died. There were no inquiries at the police station—no missing persons reports. Nothing.”

  Ida narrowed her eyes. “That seems impossible. I mean, surely he had some family.”

  “From the sounds of it, he was a nasty person,” Ruth said. “His family probably disowned him and that’s why he moved out here.”

  “Maybe he even changed his name because he got in trouble back home,” Helen suggested.

  “And another thing,” Jack continued, “he rented that house, and the landlord said she’d get a check like clockwork and then all of a sudden it stopped coming. That’s when she went out to the house to collect the rent from him and she realized no one had been there in months, but all his stuff was still there.”

  “That makes sense—he was dead so he couldn’t have packed up his things.” Ida reached over to Ruth’s plate and broke off a piece of brownie.

  “The funny thing is,” Jack continued, “she said there were all kinds of holes all over the yard near the fence. She said you couldn’t notice them until you inspected closely, which she was very thorough in doing because she wanted to document the damage in case there was any question about her keeping the security deposit.”

  “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 wom
an 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.