"No more tea for me." Lexy put her hand over her cup. "You have beautiful antiques here."
Herman's face brightened. "Thank you. Been collecting for years. Have a look around."
Lexy made her way into the dining room beside the kitchen. The room was painted a lovely muted blue, which complemented the gold-and-cobalt oriental rug that sat under the oak oval claw-foot table. On one wall was an oak china cabinet to match, the sides boasting curved glass doors that looked to be the original wavy glass. Inside, a display of crystal vases sparkled.
The wall opposite the china cabinet was covered in old photographs displayed in lavish gilt frames. Studying the pictures, Lexy found herself enchanted by the views of her beloved Brook Ridge Falls in earlier times. Most of the faces she didn't recognize, but a few looked familiar.
She squinted and leaned in closer to inspect the photo in front of her. It showed some kind of club in the background and a group of men in suits near the front. They all looked to be in their midtwenties and were all smiling and laughing, their arms around each other's shoulders. "These shots are really interesting."
"Yes, they bring back a lot of memories…" Ruth peered at the same photo as Lexy, frowning. She spun away fast, obviously flustered, and made a show of checking her watch. "Oh, look at the time! I forgot all about my hair appointment today, and I need to leave immediately or miss it entirely."
Confused, Lexy followed Ruth into the kitchen, where Ruth grabbed Ida by the elbow and explained to Nans and Herman about the hair appointment.
"I'm so sorry." Ruth patted at the top of her head. "But I simply cannot miss the appointment."
"But you can't leave yet. You just got here," Herman said, his tone disappointed. "I didn't even have a chance to invite you to the early-bird dinner at The Millhouse, Ruth."
"I'm sorry," Ruth said, packing up a scone and stuffing it in her purse. "I'll have to get back to you on that, Herman."
Ruth swept them all toward the front door. As they bid hasty good-byes to Herman, Ruth broke from the crowd and made a beeline for the car.
"What in the world was that all about?" Nans asked as she and Lexy got into the front seats.
"Not sure. We were looking at old photos in the dining room, and Ruth suddenly panicked and—"
"I did not panic," Ruth said from the backseat, where she was already sitting with her hands clenched. "I was shocked. That's all. That photo we were looking at, Lexy." She glanced back toward Herman's house. "I recognized the location. It was Nunzio's old headquarters in Cold Springs. And Herman was there, with that group of men. I'm afraid he is involved with organized crime."
"Seriously?" Ida gaped as she wedged her way into the middle of the back seat.
"I don't know," Lexy said, starting up the car. "He seems like such a sweet old man."
"Hmm. I'm sure Al Capone would've seemed sweet too, had he lived to a ripe old age," Nans said, snorting.
"It was kind of odd the way he mentioned Ruth's vehicle today," Helen said. "Perhaps he wasn't so concerned about courting Ruth all this time and was looking for something else instead. Do you think it might have been Herman who was poking around inside the Olds?"
"Could be," Ruth said. "He knew I was out yesterday morning."
"Maybe he is the killer?" Ida suggested.
"More research. That's what we need." Nans twisted around to look at the backseat. "Helen?"
Lexy glanced in the rearview to see Helen pulling an iPad out of her oversized patent-leather purse.
"I'm on it," Helen said.
The car was filled with the sound of clacking keys. "Looks like we have a hit. An old newspaper article," Ruth said. "Says here that he and Nunzio were linked to a liquor store robbery back when they were teenagers. Of course, that was sixty-five years ago, but it shows he was into crime with Nunzio. He could be one of the guys on Nunzio's list."
"And if he knew Ruth was out yesterday, that gave him opportunity to search her Olds," Helen said.
"Does anyone know where he was when Wilson was killed?" Nans asked.
They all shook their heads.
"Did he know you stored the Olds at Stan's, Ruth?" Ida asked.
"I'm not sure," Ruth said.
"He might have had motive, he certainly has means because, even though he's old, it wouldn't be too hard to kill someone by jamming a drill into their pacemaker, and he might have had opportunity." Ida's eyes sparkled. "Looks like we better tell Jack."
Chapter Twelve
The Brook Ridge Falls police station was in a low brick building. It wasn't anything fancy, with an industrial tile lobby and plastic chairs. Inside, the air conditioning whooshed, computer keys clacked, and a bored-looking teenager slouched in one of the chairs.
"Hi, I'm here to see my husband, Jack," Lexy said to the receptionist. The gal had been working at the station as long as Lexy could remember and looked more like a librarian than a desk clerk, with her horn-rimmed glasses and schoolmarm expression. Lexy flashed her brightest smile, hoping to gain the woman's favor. "Is he available?"
"Let me check," the receptionist said, picking up her phone. Lexy glanced around at the scattered paperwork atop the woman's desk as she waited. Several traffic citations and a damage-to-public-property report but nothing about the Sherman Wilson case, unfortunately. The receptionist hung up and sighed. "I'm sorry. Jack's with someone right now. May I give him a message?"
"No, thanks. I'll wait." Lexy returned to where the ladies were sitting against the far wall of the lobby, looking like some kind of geriatric crime-fighting brigade, with their massive patent-leather bags lined up across their laps and their postures prim. It had been a while since she'd visited Jack at work. The station still looked the same—same yellowing linoleum floor, same fluorescent bulbs buzzing overhead, same hum of activity from the back room, where all the action took place. Feeling antsy, Lexy glanced back at the restroom near the gate into the back area, an idea occurring. She smiled down at Nans. "I'm going to use the restroom. Be right back."
"Sure," Nans said, looking over to see where it was located then back to Lexy, her gaze knowing. "Fine, dear. Perhaps I'll go with you."
"Actually, I was hoping you could watch my things."
"Oh. Of course, dear."
Lexy handed her purse to Nans then headed for the bathroom, double-checking to make sure the receptionist was otherwise occupied. Then, as she passed the gate leading to the back offices, she made a quick detour down the hall and peeked around the corner into Jack's office.
Her smile fell fast, and her heart sank. He was busy, all right—with an attractive blonde. Given the way she was leaning over Jack's arm and all but shoving her cleavage in his face, the pair looked quite chummy at the moment. Cheeks hot and mind racing, she hurried back down the hall to the bathroom. He's having an affair. Jack's having an affair. That's his big secret.
That was what Cassie and John had tried to keep hidden from her.
At first, she felt numb. This couldn't be happening. Not to her. Not to Jack. Not to their marriage. They'd been so happy, so in love. He'd brought her flowers and wine just the other night, for goodness' sake.
Then the numbness gave way to anger and then to tears.
She sat in the stall, alone, and cried silently for several minutes.
Finally, all cried out, resignation set in.
If Jack was cheating on her, what was she going to do about it? Roll over and let the other woman steal the love of her life? Not likely. She wasn't Nans' granddaughter for nothing.
She'd fight. That was what she'd do. Fight to keep Jack and fight to keep their marriage alive. But first, she needed to scope out her opponent. See what she was up against. Yep.
Lexy Baker refused to go down without a fight.
By the time she came out again, she felt a bit more in control of her emotions, if not her thoughts. Maybe she was overreacting. Jack and the blonde weren't actually doing anything to suggest an affair, and she could hardly expect him to deal with only male
colleagues or criminals. She shouldn't jump to conclusions. But just in case, she was going to keep a close eye out.
Before she got herself all worked up again, Lexy walked over to where the ladies were sitting in the lobby and slumped down into an empty seat.
"Everything all right, dear?" Nans asked, her tone concerned as she passed Lexy's purse back to her.
"Yes, I—"
Her response was cut off by Jack walking into the lobby, the blonde by his side. They were both smiling and laughing, just as he and Lexy used to do together. He didn't look away from his companion, so chances were good he had no idea his wife was watching him. Just in case, she scooted down in her chair and picked up one of the dog-eared magazines from the table beside her to hold in front of her face. Which, honestly, was stupid, considering the rest of the ladies were sitting right beside her in plain sight.
"I'll call you later tonight," Jack said to the blonde as he held the door for her. He was whistling—actually whistling, as if life was grand—when he turned around and stopped short. "Mona? Is that you? What are you ladies doing here?" Lexy winced as his finger slowly tipped her magazine down so she could meet his gaze. "With my wife?"
Slowly, she straightened in her seat and tried to pretend everything was fine. "Hi, Jack."
He crossed his arms and narrowed his gaze. "What's going on?"
She wanted to ask him the same question about the blonde who'd just left, but refrained. What would she say, anyway? Is this your new girlfriend? My replacement? No, she must be overreacting, because Jack wouldn't be standing there all calm, cool, and collected if he'd just ushered his girlfriend out. Would he?
She pushed to her feet and slung her bag over her shoulder, forcing a confident smile she didn't quite feel. "We may know who killed Sherman Wilson."
Jack exhaled slowly, his tense shoulders relaxing slightly as he waved the ladies back into the main area of the station. "Come on back to my office, where we can talk privately."
As usual, it was a tight squeeze fitting all of them inside the small room, but Jack managed to somehow get the door closed then took a seat behind his desk. "Okay. What do you ladies have for me?"
"The gentleman's name is Herman Conti. He's an old friend of Ruth and Nunzio Bartolli's, and he seems like the most likely suspect at this point," Nans said. "We've Googled him and have discovered he's got a criminal background and motive."
"What motive?" Jack looked incredulous. "And since when do you know how to surf the Internet, Mona?"
"Oh, it wasn't me, Jack. It was Helen."
Helen waved from the corner.
Nans continued. "Mr. Conti's motive, we believe, is to keep his nefarious past hidden."
"I don't know." Jack scrubbed a hand over his face then fixed Lexy with a pointed stare. "Didn't we discuss not investigating any more of these murders on your own?"
Indignation prickled Lexy's cheeks with heat. "Last night, you gave me your blessing to see the ladies again today. What did you think we were going to do, Jack? Play bridge all day? Besides, Nans needed help."
Like you were helping yourself to that blonde. She bit back those words, barely.
"She's right. It's my fault," Nans said. "I asked Lexy to drive us over to Herman's today. She was only being a good granddaughter. But it was there that we saw proof of Mr. Conti's connection to the crime."
"Really?" Jack gave his wife some serious side-eye. "And what might that be?"
"A photo," Lexy said, crossing her arms. "It showed Nunzio and Herman Conti together, hanging out when they were younger."
"And don't forget the Internet search," Helen said. "Turns out the two of them robbed a bank together years ago. Both served time for it too."
"Take a look for yourself." Ruth pulled the iPad out of her huge handbag and turned on the screen then handed it to Jack. "And Herman knew I wouldn't be home yesterday morning when my condo was broken into because he'd asked me to brunch, but I turned him down because I was busy."
Jack shook his head and snorted. "Let me get this straight. You ladies want me to arrest this guy because he committed a crime over sixty years ago and asked Ruth out for brunch?"
"Well, when you put it that way, it does sound a little far-fetched, but we're certain it's him," Helen said, squaring her shoulders. "And you should've seen how squirrelly he got when we brought up the murder to him earlier. Plus, he kept asking about Ruth's car. When we walked by it this afternoon, the door panels on the backseat had been moved. I wouldn't be surprised at all if he'd broken into her Olds to search it."
"Or maybe"—Jack tapped the screen a few times then chuckled—"he was rattled because you ladies have suddenly become social media stars." He handed the iPad back to Ruth. "Pictures of you all tearing apart the Oldsmobile in that storage bay are all over the Internet. People have dubbed you guys the Silver Sensations."
"Really?" the ladies said in unison.
Ida grabbed the iPad from Jack and scrolled through the photos. Lexy leaned over her shoulder in time to see several unflattering photos of the ladies—Nans with her hind end sticking out of the trunk, Ruth and Helen arguing over a coin, the toes of Ida's orthopedic shoes pointing out from beneath the fender of the Olds.
"Darn," Ida said. "That's not my best angle."
"None of these are flattering." Nans shook her head. "Who could've taken them?"
"Probably Rena Gulch. She's had it in for us since day one." Helen gave a dismissive wave.
"Oh, this is just terrible." Ruth sighed. "Look at those awful images. Whoever took them made sure to angle the shots to make us look fat."
Nans pointed to one, her expression aghast. "Is my butt really that big?"
Jack gave a long-suffering sigh then stood and opened his office door. "Ladies, I hate to cut this short, but I need to get back to work. Is there anything else I can help you with?"
"Are you at least going to bring Herman in to question him?" Lexy asked, bristling under his dismissal. How dare he treat them like a bunch of silly busybodies? She was still his wife. She deserved more respect.
"I doubt it, honey." Jack ushered them all back out to the hallway. "I'd need a lot more than what you've given me to bring him in."
He reached for her arm and leaned in to kiss her goodbye, but Lexy shook him off. The trouble between them right now would take more than a couple endearments and kisses to fix. "What do you need then?"
"Proof. A confession." Jack frowned at her. "Is something wrong, honey?"
"No." Yes. She looked away, not wanting him to see the doubt in her eye. "We'll get out of your hair, for now. Will you be home for dinner tonight?" Or will you be seeing the blonde?
"I'll be home at my regular time, honey. See you then."
Nans glanced between the two of them then shook her head. "You should listen to me more often, Jack. I'm usually right. But if you say you need more evidence to bring Herman Conti in, then we'll just get him to confess to the murder. And I know exactly how to do it."
Chapter Thirteen
Lexy dropped the ladies off at their retirement community to weave their plans then headed back to The Cup and Cake. She still needed to balance the receipts from the day before and help Cassie finish making the goodies for the next day. She stopped at a red light then winced as the Bug sputtered and bucked hard once more. The mechanic had warned her it wouldn't last long even with his latest intervention, but her baby had sentimental value, and she didn't want to believe it. She'd had the Bug since she'd first opened the bakery. It was the vehicle she'd driven the day she'd first met Jack and the same one she'd used to cart Nans and the ladies around for all their sleuthing. Heck, it was almost an honorary member of the Ladies Detective Club.
By the time Lexy reached the shop and got her purse stowed and her receipts settled, Cassie was done with the croissants and éclairs and was starting the dough for the cream puffs. Today, Lexy chose a frilly pink apron with tiny strawberries and hearts embroidered on it then headed back into the kitchen to help Cassie.
"Hey," Lexy said, washing her hands in the sink. "How's it going here?"
"Still slow. But I've used the downtime wisely. Got most of the stuff for tomorrow done except for these," Cassie said, spooning the pâte à choux dough into a pastry bag for piping onto the baking sheet. "How'd things go with Nans?"
"Fine." Lexy frowned as she dried her hands then slipped on a pair of gloves.
"Really?" Cassie glanced up at her. "You don't look like everything is fine."
"I'm fine. Really. Everything's great. Now, let me get to work so I can help you." Lexy prepared her own bag of dough then squirted it out onto another parchment-lined baking sheet in perfect little rounds. Baking always took her to her Zen place, and she'd never been more grateful for that than she was today. Her head was starting to ache from all the stress, right along with her heart.
"All righty then," Cassie said, focusing on her tray of dough instead. "Did they like the scones?"
"Yep. Ida ate two as usual." Lexy squinted at her tray, willing her shaking hands to steady so she wouldn't mess up her perfect circles.
"What else did you do? Anything exciting?"
"The ladies and I stopped to see Jack at the station." The words felt like sharp glass in her throat, and Lexy swallowed hard.
"Yeah?" Cassie's hand slipped, squirting dough in an uneven squiggle across her baking sheet. She mumbled a curse and grabbed a piece of paper towel to carefully wipe up the tiny mess. Lexy didn't miss the hint of guilt that crept across her best friend's face. From what Lexy had heard of her phone call with John the other day, Cassie had known about Jack keeping secrets from Lexy. But did she know about the blonde too? Lexy intended to find out.
"What did he have to say?" Cassie asked, the tightness in her voice at direct odds with her sunny smile.
Lexy narrowed her gaze on Cassie. "Not much. He was busy, so we only got to see him for a few minutes. He was busy with someone when we first got there."
"Huh." Cassie finished her tray then began a second one, working faster than Lexy had ever seen her. "Well, busy is good, I guess."
Cream Puff Killer: Lexy Baker Cozy Mystery Series Book 13 Page 7