Cream Puff Killer: Lexy Baker Cozy Mystery Series Book 13

by Dobbs, Leighann

  "Hmm." Lexy double-checked the ovens to make sure they were set at 375 degrees then whisked together eggs and water to make an egg wash to brush over the tops. As she went down the line, she smoothed the top of each puff with her finger before brushing the egg mixture on top to ensure an even rise. "Do you know anything about a new blonde working at the station? Perhaps helping Jack and John on a case?"

  Cassie froze for a second before continuing to pipe the last tray of pastry dough, and the nervous knots in Lexy's stomach only tightened. What was Cassie not telling her? Part of Lexy wanted to just come out and blurt what she'd seen, to confide in her best friend and hash out a plan to win her husband back. But the other part of her felt embarrassed and scared and ashamed of what was going on. And until she had concrete proof that Jack really did have something going on with the blonde, she didn't want to let the cracks show. She could be wrong.

  "Oh, gosh. They work with so many people, it's hard to keep track," Cassie said, her tone vague as she squirted out the last of the dough then took the empty mixing bowl and pastry bags to the sink. "Was that who you saw with Jack today? A blonde?"

  Lexy transferred the baking sheets to the ovens then set the timer for thirty minutes. They'd bake the puffs today then let them cool overnight before filling them with cream first thing in the morning to keep them fresh for the customers.

  Back in high school, there'd been a boy Lexy had dated who'd ran around on her with one of the cheerleaders behind Lexy's back. At the time, Cassie had been ready to throttle the guy. Yet her reaction now, when Lexy mentioned the blonde, was only mild interest at best, and it made Lexy doubt herself once more.

  Could she be blowing this whole thing with the blonde out of proportion?

  Cassie was her best friend. Surely she'd tell Lexy if something bad was going on between that blonde and Jack, right? This couldn't be the secret she'd whispered about to John right in front of Lexy the other day. Nobody would be that cruel, would they? She put her hands on her hips and tapped her toe on the hardwood floor.

  Unless John and Jack were in cahoots and had sworn Cassie to secrecy…

  No. Cassie was loyal to Lexy. She wouldn't keep this kind of secret even if her own husband wanted her to.

  In the end, she decided to let the matter drop for now, focusing instead on handling the after-school rush of moms picking up treats for their kids' sports teams and practices.

  About three o'clock, Lexy's phone buzzed in the pocket of her apron, and she pulled it out to see a message from Jack, and the lump in her throat formed anew. Suddenly, he had to work late again. Stuck at the station, interviewing suspects, he said. When only hours earlier, he'd promised to be home for dinner. He must've only said that because she'd put him on the spot in front of all the ladies. If he was going to call the blonde later as he'd said, then most likely he'd never planned to come home at all.

  The last thing she wanted was to sit home alone with Sprinkles, in their empty house, and wait for Jack to show up. She considered going back to Nans', but the last line of Jack's text was specific—stay home and don't get involved in any more of your grandmother's shenanigans.

  Fresh anger welled up inside her. How dare he tell her what she could and couldn't do when he was out gallivanting around with some strange blonde, doing who knew what?

  She'd go home, feed Sprinkles, and let her out to potty, then she'd pamper herself.

  Maybe a manicure and pedicure, perhaps a facial and a massage to go along with it.

  Yep. That sounded like a fine plan.

  But after they locked the doors at five thirty, Lexy felt tired clear to her bones. Maybe it was the busy day, or maybe it was all the extra anxiety of worrying about Jack and his mysterious blonde. She took off her apron and reached for her purse beneath the counter, only to have her phone buzz again.

  Perhaps Jack had reconsidered and was coming home on time after all. More eagerly than she wanted, Lexy pulled out her phone.

  No such luck.

  It was Nans. She and the ladies had a plan and were putting it in place to trap Herman Conti into a recorded confession. She wanted Lexy to be part of it. Even with all that had happened today, going against Jack's wishes still sat wrong with Lexy. But the hurt and anger brewing inside her soon overrode everything else.

  "I'm out of here," Cassie called from the back. "See you in the morning?"

  "I'll be here," Lexy murmured, distracted.

  "Are you sure you're all right?" Cassie asked, her expression concerned.

  "What?" Lexy looked up, forcing a smile. "Yes. I'm fine. Great. Have a good night."

  She closed up then got in her Bug and headed for home to let the dog out before she went to meet the ladies.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The Millhouse was an upscale restaurant in an old paper mill on the outskirts of Brook Ridge Falls. Lexy hadn't been there in ages, but the moment she stepped inside, the ambiance struck her again. Wide pine floors, stone walls, exposed beams in the high ceilings. She caught a whiff of steak, and her stomach growled almost loud enough to be heard over the hushed tones of the diners and the subtle clink of cutlery against porcelain. The space radiated warmth and luxury and the easy elegance of a time gone by. With its many hidden alcoves and booths tucked into corners, it was also quite romantic.

  She spotted Nans, Helen, and Ida at a table near the windows overlooking the pond beside the restaurant. Across the room sat Ruth and Herman. Part of Nans' plan had involved Ruth accepting his invitation to early-bird dinner. Now, the ladies spied on them from behind a potted plant near their table.

  As discreetly as possible, Lexy hurried over to the ladies' table and sat down, hoping to avoid being seen by Herman. She greeted everyone then peered through the leaves of the ficus to see Ruth and their suspect beyond.

  "Aw, they look sweet together," Lexy said. Even with everything they'd learned about Herman Conti's past, she still had a hard time picturing the old charmer as a hardened criminal. Then again, she'd had a hard time picturing her husband straying too. Seemed her radar where the opposite sex was concerned was way off. She opened her menu and tried to concentrate on the specials of the day instead of her marital issues.

  "We'll see how cute he is when he's drunk," Nans said, perusing her menu as well.

  "Drunk?" Lexy said, staring at her grandmother.

  "Yes, that's the plan, dear. Ruth is going to get him liquored up, loosening his tongue, and then we'll get him to confess." She tapped her phone, which was set in the middle of their table with the speaker turned on. "Helen was able to download an app that acts like a recorder to Ruth's phone. All I have to do is dial her number, and we're connected to their conversation."

  The waitress came and took their orders then brought their drinks—white wine for Lexy, tea for the ladies. Once the server left, Nans dialed Ruth's number then placed the phone back into the center of the table, and they all leaned forward to listen.

  "Let me get you another drink, Herman," Ruth said over the phone line.

  "Ohr, no, my durling. I'm gurd," Herman said, already slurring his words a bit. "I think some furd is in order. Don't wanna get sloshed on our first date." He chuckled a little longer and louder than appropriate.

  Ruth gave a decidedly annoyed sigh. "Why don't you try your steak then? How is it?"

  "Delicious," Herman said, chewing loudly. "How's yur pasta?"

  "Fine."

  Through the plants, Lexy spotted Ruth staring at the table, her expression frustrated. Seemed their plan wasn't going as smoothly as they'd expected. Finally, Ruth sat back and dabbed her mouth with a linen napkin. "You and my Nunzio weren't always enemies, were you?"

  "What?" Herman scowled. "N-No."

  "He mentioned you, you know," Ruth said.

  From beside Lexy, Nans grinned and nodded toward the phone. "Here we go."

  "He did?" Herman's voice sounded a bit shakier now. "I can't imagine why."

  "Perhaps it was because of his place at Cold Springs. I saw th
e picture of you two there on your wall earlier."

  Herman snorted. "One photo doesn't prove anything."

  "Yes." A shuffling noise issued as Ruth shifted in her seat, suggesting her cell phone was hidden in her pocket. "The victim they found under my car in the storage bay. His name was Sherman Wilson. He was from Cold Springs too, if I'm not mistaken. Did you know him too, Herman…?"

  Ruth's voice trailed off.

  "Wilson? Hmm," Herman said, his tone growing a tad agitated. "Nope, never heard of 'im."

  "Why are you getting upset?" Ruth asked. "Do you have something to hide?"

  "Hide? Me? Nah." Herman gave a nervous laugh. "What're you trying to say, my durrling?"

  "Nothing. It's just that my asking about your past seems to upset you, Herman. Maybe you'd feel better with a clear conscience. Believe me, I've heard everything. I dated Nunzio, after all. He used to tell me stories that would curl a dead man's toes. Listen, Herman." She reached across and patted his hand. "Your past may have involved a life of crime, but you can always repent. Confession is good for the soul."

  The small silence lasted what seemed like an eternity, and the ladies exchanged a look.

  Ida opened her mouth to speak, but Nans held her finger to her lips, shushing her.

  At last, Herman crumbled. "All right, it's true. I've hated hiding my secrets all these years. I'm an honest man at heart, and I do have a confession."

  A collective gasp issued from Lexy and the ladies.

  "I knew it," Ruth said over the phone line. "Tell me how you did it, Herman. Did you know Sherman Wilson would be at my storage bay, or was it a coincidence that the two of you arrived there at the same time to search for Nunzio's list in my car?"

  "Huh?" Herman said, sounding genuinely perplexed. "Nunzio's list? What're you talking about?"

  "Oh, come on now, Herman. Everyone knows about the blackmail list Nunzio kept. You didn't want anyone to know you were on it, so you killed Sherman Wilson to protect your secret. That's why you did it, right?"

  "I didn't do anything, and I certainly never killed anyone." Through the plant leaves, Lexy saw Herman toss his napkin angrily onto the table, his voice suddenly as sober as a funeral. "Nor would I ever blackmail anyone. That's not what I was going to confess, Ruth. I've never heard of this list you're talking about either." He leaned closer to Ruth and whispered, "What I was going to tell you about was the bank heist Nunzio and I pulled off fifty years ago."

  Before Lexy knew what was happening, Nans was out of her seat and heading around the potted plants to make a beeline for Ruth's table. Lexy and the ladies followed behind her.

  "Bank robbery?" Nans said as she approached their table. "You mean you didn't kill Sherman Wilson?"

  Several nearby patrons turned to stare, and Lexy moved in beside her grandmother. "You might want to keep your voice down, Nans."

  "Oh, posh," Nans scoffed. "These people should mind their own business anyway. Answer my question, Herman Conti."

  "Um, no." Herman seemed taken aback by the elderly female inquisition that had now surrounded his and Ruth's table. "I wasn't even in town when Wilson was killed. I swear."

  "You all might as well pull up chairs," Ruth said, scooting over. "No sense having the whole town overhear us. We're already splashed across the World Wide Web."

  The ladies each took a seat, then Herman continued.

  "Look, you're right, Ruth. Nunzio and I weren't always enemies. We actually grew up together as kids in Cold Springs. That's how we knew each other. But I didn't really associate with him much until we were both in our twenties. I'd been a demolitions expert in the army and had just gotten out. Nunzio needed money, as usual." Herman snorted then shook his head, lost in memories. "I remember him coming to me that day, saying he had this scheme to rob the local bank and he needed some explosives for his heist. Normally, I would've told him to get lost, but unfortunately, I needed funds too, so I took the job."

  He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Listen, I'm not proud of what I did, but I didn't actually break into the bank. All I did was supply Nunzio with the charges he needed to blow off the safe door. And the way he explained it, it wasn't even like we were stealing from an innocent person. Nunzio swore the only safety deposit box he targeted belonged to a crime boss. So, really, we were like Robin Hood. Robbing from the bad guy to give to the poor—us."

  "What exactly did Nunzio take from the safety deposit box?" Helen asked. "I couldn't find any record of what was stolen on the Internet. Seems no one ever reported the missing items."

  "Well, it isn't like a crime boss can file a claim for his stolen goods that were already stolen to begin with," Herman said, chuckling. "The bank did report the break-in and the damage to their safe, for insurance purposes, but everything else was all quickly swept under the rug. I'm guessing someone paid off the cops at the time."

  Ida narrowed her gaze on him. "How does this all tie into Sherman Wilson's murder?"

  "Not sure," Herman said. "Maybe it was one of the other guys who helped Nunzio break into the safety deposit box. I never knew who they were."

  "That would make sense," Lexy said. "And Jack told me Sherman had been in jail for a bank robbery. Maybe he was in on the original heist."

  "If that's the case, though, why would he risk getting caught skulking around Ruth's car and possibly returning to prison at his age?" Nans asked.

  "Like I said, I wasn't at the robbery itself, so I have no actual proof of what was in that safety deposit box," Herman said. "But, from what I was told way back when, the box was filled with all kinds of treasure—diamonds, gold, lots of rare coins worth millions. At the time, I remember Nunzio fenced the jewels and gold right away, to get the money quickly, but he hid the coins away for later, fearing someone might recognize them if they hit the market too soon. Every once in a while, rumors about the crime and the hidden stash of rare coins make their way around the underworld. The incident is now quite infamous in certain circles." Herman shook his head. "Rather like that whole D. B. Cooper mystery. No one ever found the money."

  The ladies all exchanged a look. And Lexy couldn't help wondering if maybe that was where all those old coins hidden in Ruth's car had come from.

  "And no one ever found this stash?" Ida asked.

  "Nope." Herman pulled out his wallet and handed two twenties and the check to their waitress as she passed by the table. "A few of the coins have surfaced over the years, but never the really rare ones. Lately, though, I've heard a couple new rumors that those coins have made an appearance here in Brooks Ridge Falls."

  "Nunzio was an antiques dealer, so he had ties with all sorts of sources." Ruth frowned. "Plus, I remember him belonging to a bunch of forums online. They used to talk for hours and hours about those rare coins."

  Herman took his change from the server then sipped his water. "Word on the street and in the forums is that the coins from that heist are finally reentering circulation. The search is still on for the most valuable one of the bunch, though. That one has yet to be found—a 1913 Liberty Head V nickel worth about four million dollars."

  "Four million dollars?" Nans sat back, her expression astonished. "For a nickel? Who knew a hunk of metal could be so valuable?"

  "I still don't see what this has to do with my condo," Ruth said. "Why would they search my place? And how would a thief trace those coins to my car? I'm the only one who knew about all that old change in that Olds."

  "Perhaps not the only one, my darling. See, that's where Nunzio's forums come in," Herman said, smiling. "I still keep tabs on those from time to time. Recently, I spotted a post from someone claiming to be an old prison-mate of Nunzio's associates from the heist. This person stated this prison-mate had leaked the location of that rare coin and said it was stashed inside an old car that had belonged to Nunzio just prior to his death."

  "Oh my," Ruth gasped, placing her hand over her heart. "My poor Olds."

  "Yes, my darling. That's why I've been so worried about you." Herman
reached over and took Ruth's other hand. "Believe me. It wasn't me who killed Sherman Wilson or went looking for that coin. Why would I? I certainly don't need that coin. I've got plenty of money on my own. Besides, some things are more important than wealth."

  Lexy melted a bit at the sweetness of Herman's statement. It was obvious he was smitten with Ruth. She sighed. She and Jack had been in love with each other like that too, once upon a time. For her, that love was stronger than ever. For Jack? That remained to be seen in Lexy's mind. First she'd have to deal with that mysterious blonde, then she and her husband needed to have a long heart-to-heart talk about their relationship and their future…

  "So it seems we've been barking up the wrong tree," Helen said. "Looks like this Sherman Wilson's murder has nothing to do with Nunzio's list and everything to do with a rare coin."

  "Yes," Nans said. "Now all we need to do is figure out who else knew about this coin, and we'll have our killer."

  Chapter Fifteen

  "To heck with finding the killer," Ida said as they rushed back into Ruth's apartment a short time later. The layout was the same as Nans' condo, but in reverse. Next to the lavishness of Herman's house before, Ruth's current abode looked downright austere—beige furniture, beige walls, beige carpet and tile. A few framed photos were scattered around the place, mainly of Ruth and her late husband, George, together and one or two of Ruth and Nunzio.

  But even though the furnishings were plain, the place smelled divine. Ruth had vases overflowing with lilacs, and the air was happy with the fresh floral scent. There was a tall etched crystal vase on the table, dripping with lavender blossoms, a bulbous squatty round vase on the kitchen counter, stuffed with trailing white flowers, and there were smaller vases lining the pass-through counter, each with dark-purple blooms sprouting from the top.

  "I want to find that four-million-dollar coin Herman told us about," Ida said, making a beeline for the round oak table in the center of the dining room area. "Where are they?"