Cream Puff Killer: Lexy Baker Cozy Mystery Series Book 13

by Dobbs, Leighann

  "Really?" Lexy turned around at the sink and rested her hip against the edge of the counter, scowling. "What about the blood on it, though?"

  Jack raised an inquisitive brow at her.

  "What?" She lowered her gaze. "I saw the techs carrying the evidence bag to the van that day is all. I'm curious."

  "Hmm." His snort suggested he didn't buy that excuse for a second. Still, he thankfully let it drop. "Looks like it was just from the blood pooled on the floor from the victim, near where the drill was lying. The team's still testing it for that, though."

  "Right." Lexy forced a smile and continued rinsing the plates in the sink before putting them in the dishwasher, grateful to be facing away from her husband's too-perceptive gaze. "What about fingerprints?"

  "There weren't many, outside of Ruth's and Nunzio's. Based on the lint fibers found on the car's door handle, it appears our killer wore cotton gloves."

  The tension in Lexy's shoulders lessened. The only other person she'd seen wearing gloves this far into summer was Ruth that day in the taxi. But hers were leather, not cotton.

  As if reading her mind, Jack asked, "Didn't I see Ruth wearing a pair of white gloves that day at the crime scene?"

  "What?" She fumbled a plate while sliding it into the dishwasher, barely managing to catch it before it crashed to the floor. Surely the police wouldn't suspect poor Ruth of killing that man. "No. I mean, yes. She was wearing gloves. Driving gloves. But they were leather, not cotton."

  "Driving gloves sometimes have cotton fibers inside. Oh, the techs also found scattered flakes of puff pastry around the scene. Like the kind you use in your cream puffs."

  The muscles between Lexy's shoulder blades knotted once more. What exactly was Jack trying to get at? Did he think the Ladies Detective Club had something to do with the killing of Sherman Wilson? Did he think Lexy did too? She glanced at him over her shoulder. The thought both annoyed and terrified her. Surely Jack knew her better than that, knew her grandmother better than that. He loved her. They loved each other. Right? "Any puff pastry you found at the scene probably came from that box of cream puffs I gave the ladies to eat while we waited for you and your team to arrive. You know how they love my baked goods. In fact, Ida had at least two that day. I saw her brush the crumbs off her top myself."

  Jack's stoic façade faltered slightly under her irritated tone. A small smile quirked one side of his mouth. "All right, all right. I wasn't trying to suggest anything about Nans and the ladies. Just answering your question was all, honey. Oh, and there was one other odd thing they discovered. Near the front bumper of the car. An old buffalo nickel charm. There was a hole drilled through the top and a tiny metal hoop, like the kind you'd find on a charm bracelet. Looked like a real antique coin too."

  "Huh." Lexy finished loading the dishwasher then turned to wipe down the table. "I'll save you some detective work then and let you know that Ruth has a charm bracelet like that. She just had it made, actually, using coins she found inside the Olds. She was wearing it the morning we went to pick up her car, and the clasp broke. When she went to pick it up off the ground is when she discovered Sherman Wilson's body and—" Lexy stopped at Jack's narrowed stare. "What?"

  "You don't find it odd that her bracelet just happened to break at the exact place where a dead body was stashed?"

  Indignation flared inside Lexy. What was he trying to say? He had some nerve implying Ruth's bracelet getting caught wasn't just an accident, especially with the way he'd been acting all weird lately. Without thinking, she blurted out, "Nice of you to let me know my car was ready earlier."

  Jack wrinkled his nose. "What are you talking about, honey?"

  "Obviously, you were too busy finding ways to implicate my grandmother and her friends to call or text me yourself."

  "Wait a minute." Jack held his hands up in defense. "You're mad because I had John relay the message through Cassie? I was just trying to be efficient is all. Since Cassie already had him on the line, I thought it would save time to just have her tell you. And since it was close to quitting time at the bakery, I figured you could catch a ride to the body shop with her."

  Arms crossed, Lexy frowned. When he put it that way, it sounded downright logical. Which only served to irk her more. She tried never to be a drama queen, but right now, she felt confused and vulnerable and completely discombobulated, and she didn't like it one bit.

  She grasped the end of her long mink-brown ponytail, which hung over her shoulder, toying with it absently. Jack remained silent, his expression cautious as he watched her as if she were a ticking time bomb ready to explode.

  Even Sprinkles seemed to pick up on the tension curdling in the air between them. She whimpered and ran to her dog bed in the corner.

  To defuse the situation, Lexy forced herself to take a deep breath then refocused on her friend's defense. "You can't honestly think Ruth had anything to do with that man's murder, Jack. You know her. She wouldn't hurt a flea. None of the ladies would."

  "I suppose not," Jack said after a beat. "And it does seem hard to picture a woman of Ruth's age able to open that storage bay door without assistance."

  Lexy refrained from saying that she'd seen Ruth do that very thing with ease. That certainly wouldn't help Ruth at all at this point. Instead, she dried her hands on a nearby dishtowel and chuckled, the sound nervous and stilted even to her own ears. "True. And then there's the fact she has no motive either."

  "That we know about," Jack said cryptically.

  "Seriously?" Lexy said, exasperated. "Why in the world would Ruth kill that man then volunteer to return first thing in the morning with a bunch of witnesses?"

  "No one would expect it," Jack said. "Most killers would avoid the place. Sounds pretty clever to me. And those ladies are nothing if not clever."

  Not giving up so easily, Lexy continued to plead Ruth's case. "You said the lock was cut. Ruth wouldn't have to do that. She had the key."

  "Maybe Wilson cut the lock before she got there."

  "Honestly, Jack. You need to stop. Ruth's our friend, not a suspect in your case."

  He snorted and stood, stretching before walking over and sliding his arms around Lexy's waist, pulling her stiff form against him. "Well, she has been known to cavort with criminals, after all. Nunzio Bartolli wasn't exactly a choirboy."

  "No." She sighed, her husband's warmth melting her resistance, despite her wishes to the contrary. Unable to resist, she slid her palms up his chest and met his gaze, not missing the twinkle in his eye. He was teasing her, darn him. They'd been married long enough to know which buttons to push on the other for maximum effect. Both a blessing and a curse.

  Jack broke into a full-blown grin, and his good humor was infectious. Soon, Lexy found herself smiling back at him, her suspicions and hurt from earlier buried beneath an avalanche of affection. She gave a small shrug. "I guess you're right."

  "I'm sorry. Could you repeat that please?"

  "What?"

  "The 'you're right' part. I hear it so rarely these days."

  She gave him a look, and Jack laughed and pulled Lexy into a tight hug. "Sorry, honey. I couldn't resist getting you going a bit. And I'm sorry about not calling you myself earlier today about your car. It was an honest, if stupid, mistake. I didn't think anything of it and never meant to upset you. Please forgive me?"

  She buried her nose in his neck, loving the musky, woodsy scent of his aftershave. When she was in Jack's arms, she'd forgive him nearly anything. He's hiding something. She shoved the traitorous thought deep and clung tighter to her husband. Jack was here. Jack had apologized. Jack loved her, and she loved him. Everything was fine. "You're forgiven."

  "Thank you, honey. Oh, and tell Ruth when you see her tomorrow that she needs an oil change." Jack kissed the top of her head then pulled back slightly to meet her gaze. "Okay?"

  "Okay. But what makes you think I'm going to see her tomorrow?" she said, smiling.

  Jack gave her a quick kiss on the lips then pulled away.
"Because I know you, and I know the ladies. Just promise me you'll be careful and that you'll call me if you get into any sticky situations, all right?"

  Lexy trailed after him toward the living room, the warmth of familiarity swelling inside her. It wasn't exactly a blessing on her snooping, but she'd take it. The niggle of doubt inside her reared its ugly head one last time. Maybe he's giving you freedom so you won't poke into his business. But as they snuggled on the sofa in the living room, she felt safe and protected in his arms, and for tonight, at least, all was right with their little world.

  Chapter Eleven

  The next day, Lexy was happy to drive herself to work in her VW. No more bumming rides. She had her car back, and they'd even detailed the inside and put one of those new-car-smell air fresheners in. It wasn't as good as the real new-car smell, but it had been so long since Lexy actually had a new car she barely noticed the difference.

  She ignored the slight bucking at the stoplight and the whirring sound coming from the engine as she pulled into the alley behind the bakery. They'd replaced a lot of things in the car, so strange sounds were probably normal, right?

  The morning was a little slow, and Lexy handled the usual rush of morning-commute customers who wanted to grab a coffee and pastry before work with ease. She stocked up the self-serve coffee area and mixed up some cake batter and baked three pans of cake for a triple-decker birthday cake someone had ordered. When things slowed down, she took off her yellow gingham apron and hung it on the rack.

  "I'm heading over to Nans' for a bit," Lexy said to Cassie. "Will you be okay here by yourself for a few hours?"

  "Yes, I'll be fine," Cassie said. "We haven't had any customers in an hour. I'll probably go in the back and begin working on the list of items to make for tomorrow. I can pop out front if someone comes in."

  "Okay." Lexy finished tying a bow in the pink-and-white-striped twine binding the box of fresh almond scones she'd packed. Given his penchant for them the other day, she thought they were Herman Conti's favorite, and she didn't want to disappoint, especially today, when they hoped to grill him for information. "I'll see you later then."

  "See ya." Cassie waved as Lexy headed out into the bright afternoon sunshine. The warm air, full of the scent of freshly mown grass, felt refreshing on her skin. She stopped at her car to unlock the doors and smiled at the low burble of the waterfall nearby. Last night had gone a long way toward easing her fears about her marriage and Jack. After their tiff after dinner, they'd seemed much more in sync again. Enough so that he'd even given his half-hearted assent to her meeting with the ladies, which was good because, from what Nans had said at her condo yesterday, they had no intention of not investigating the murder of Sherman Wilson.

  She climbed behind the wheel of the Bug and started the engine. It still wheezed and sputtered a bit, but it was better than before, and the traffic was light this midafternoon. Within five minutes, she was knocking on Nans' door.

  "Finally, you're here," her grandmother said, answering. "Ida's been waiting for the pastry."

  Lexy followed Nans into the condo, finding Ruth, Ida, and Helen seated at Nans' mahogany table. Each lady had a dainty porcelain cup nestled in its matching saucer on the table in front of them.

  "Oh, she's here!" Ida darted up from her seat and ran to Lexy, lifting the corner of the pastry box from the side to peek in without disturbing the twine tying it shut.

  "Those are for Herman," Ruth admonished her, smacking her hand away. "At least wait until we are at his house."

  "Well, he can't eat the whole box." Ida dispensed with politeness completely then and opened the box, grabbing the largest of the scones. "See? There's plenty here for everyone. Even your precious Herman."

  As Ida scarfed down the scone and the others took their teacups into the kitchen, Nans said, "We're almost ready to go, dear, but we need to discuss how we are going to get Herman to talk."

  "I think our best bet is for Ruth to charm him," Helen said as she carefully dried a dainty teacup with tiny cornflower blue flowers around the rim.

  "Yeah," Ida agreed. "Maybe you should go alone, Ruth. That way you can put the moves on him. He'll be more eager to spill his guts if you persuade him the right way." Ida waggled her brows. "If you know what I mean."

  "That might not be a good idea," Nans cautioned. "Herman knew Nunzio, and Nunzio even warned Ruth about him. What if that warning had nothing to do with jealousy? What if Herman is one of Nunzio's "associates"? Herman could be on the list. He could even be the killer."

  "That's ridiculous," Ruth said. "Herman and Nunzio hated each other. They wouldn't have been associates."

  "I don't know, Nans," Lexy agreed. "Herman seems awfully nice."

  "Of course he is. I'm sure Nunzio was just jealous," Helen said. "Herman Conti couldn't hurt a flea. But I think we should all go and talk to him. We wouldn't want Ruth to have all the fun, and besides, it's better if all of us hear what he has to say. Each one of us might have a different take on it."

  "Okay, then what are we waiting for?" Ida brushed past them on her way to the door. "Lexy, you can fill us in on anything you learned from Jack on the way out."

  As Nans locked up, Lexy brought them up to speed on what Jack told her the night before. "Oh, and they have the charm for your bracelet, Ruth."

  Ruth's hand flew to her naked wrist, her brow furrowed. "My bracelet?"

  "Maybe it came off when the clasp broke," Ida suggested. "That's how you found the body, remember?"

  "Of course I remember," Ruth said, her expression odd. "One doesn't forget such an awful sight, Ida."

  Lexy followed the ladies through the hall, into the elevator, and out to the parking lot. They hustled over to Lexy's VW Bug, walking right past Ruth's car.

  "You got the Olds from the storage place already? Maybe we should take that instead." She pointed at the large blue vehicle. "There'd be a lot more room."

  "Can't," Helen said. "The door panels are still off inside."

  "We didn't have time to put it all back together, and Stan said we had to get it out of the storage bay, so we drove it like it was," Ruth said. "It wasn't a comfortable ride."

  "Oh." Lexy turned to peer into the car. The ladies were right. The interior of the Olds was a mess after all the ladies digging through it plus the police investigation. It would take some serious detailing to get it back into shape again.

  "That's strange," Nans said, scowling. "I would've sworn we'd laid those door panels on the backseat, but now they're on the floor."

  "Do you think someone was in there, rifling around?" Lexy asked as they all piled into her VW. The Bug wasn't really built to accommodate all those people, but the ladies were used to creatively squeezing themselves into all sorts of tight places, and they somehow managed to fit Ruth, Ida and Helen into the backseat with Nans riding shotgun. Lexy buckled her seatbelt and started the engine, her cheeks heating when the VW backfired loudly as they headed out of the parking lot.

  Ruth scooted in her seat a bit, jostling Ida, who gave her an annoyed stare. "Doesn't matter anyway. If someone else was looking for something in the Olds, they won't find anything."

  "Ouch," Helen said, shooting Ida a scowl. "You kicked me."

  "Sorry." Ida shrugged and grinned. "It's tight back here."

  "Take a left," Ruth commanded. "Next right, then all the way to the end."

  Lexy followed her directions, and soon they were parked before a majestic-looking old Victorian-style home.

  Herman answered the door, his eyes lighting up when they fell on Ruth then darkening when he saw that she had company. "I didn't realize you were all coming."

  "I needed Lexy to drive me, and then the others just tagged along." Ruth breezed into the foyer, and Lexy and the other ladies followed.

  "Oh, that's right. Your car is out of commission," Herman said as he closed the door. "Err… I mean it must still be impounded by the police."

  "I got it back. But it's not exactly drivable." Ruth took the bakery box fr
om Lexy. "We brought some scones. Should we go in the kitchen?"

  "Certainly." Herman half bowed and indicated for them to proceed down a hallway with golden oak wood that smelled like lemons and into an airy kitchen that boasted Paris-blue cabinets, slate flooring, and a long pine trestle table. If nothing else, Herman had good taste. And a lot of money, considering the expensive furniture and antiques, not to mention the Waterford crystal platter he was transferring the scones onto.

  They sat down at the table, and Lexy dipped her tea bag into the steaming water in her cup. She picked a scone up off the tray and nibbled while Herman complimented each of the ladies in turn. Ruth's outfit, Nans' hair, Helen's shoes, Ida's complexion. He was quite the ladies' man.

  "The police don't seem to be making much headway on the murder investigation," Nans said out of the blue.

  Herman's cup rattled as he placed it a little too forcefully in the saucer. "That's a shame. Nasty business. I hate to think of a killer running loose." He turned to Ruth. "Would you like another scone?"

  Ruth's brows mashed together as she looked at her plate, where she still had three-quarters of her scone left. "No thanks."

  "Anyone for more tea?" Herman got up to heat more water.

  Lexy stretched. She didn't want more tea, and this conversation seemed to be going nowhere. Herman hadn't taken the bait about the murder, and now Nans and Ruth were giving each other raised-eyebrow looks and head jerks as they silently tried to tell each other to continue questioning.

  "So were you good friends with Nunzio Bartolli?" Nans blurted out. "Ruth dated him, you know."

  Herman's brow furrowed. The teakettle whistled, and he turned around, shutting off the burner and grabbing the kettle. "I knew him peripherally. I wouldn't say we were friends."

  Herman came back to the table with the teapot and started pouring.