“That would be wonderful.” Victor turned and made his way to the self-serve station. “I can get my own tea.”
Lexy put the scone on a small plate and took it over to the table where Victor sat with a steaming cup of tea in front of him. She slid into the chair across from him, eagerly watching the expression on his face as he took his first bite.
“This is delicious,” he said chewing thoughtfully. “I particularly like the crumbly cinnamon and sugar top. You don’t normally get that on a scone … I think you have a winner here.”
Thanks.” Lexy beamed proudly as the bells over the door jingled to announce Nans, Ruth, Ida and Helen.
The four ladies greeted Lexy and Victor before marching purposely to one of the tables and slinging their purses over the backs of the chairs. Ruth gingerly placed several rolled up papers she’d carried in under her arm on the center of the table.
“What have you got there?” Victor asked.
“These are the blueprints for the old sewer system.” Ruth unrolled one of them, spreading it on the table and holding down the ends with her hands while Nans, Ida and Helen rummaged in their purses for something to weight it down.
“You don’t say?” Victor pushed his glasses up on his nose and leaned over for a better look at the print. “Where’d you get those?”
“Down at the town hall,” Nans said producing a small stapler from her purse and plunking it down on one corner of the blueprint.
“Oh, I thought you had to wait ages to get those old prints run off down there.” Victor returned his attention to his scone.
“Normally you do,” Ida said placing the small rock she’d taken out of her purse on another corner of the print. “But it turns out someone had just recently gotten a copy of these, so Meredith had them right on her desk, waiting to put them away.”
“’Course it helps to know someone down there.” Helen threw down her purse and grabbed a stoneware mug from the self-serve coffee station, then placed it on the third corner of the blueprint.
“What do you plan to do with them?” Victor asked.
Ruth plunked her smartphone down on the last corner. “We’re investigating the murder.”
“Murder?” Victor’s gray brows met his hairline.
“You know. The skull they found out there.” Nans tilted her head toward the end of the street where the sewer work was still ongoing.
“I didn’t realize there was an official murder investigation going on about that.” Victor narrowed his eyes at Nans.
“Well, there isn’t … I mean not officially. The police don’t seem interested in investigating. They said the murder was too long ago. But Ruth, Helen, Ida and I run our own detective agency, so we’ve taken it upon ourselves to find out the truth.” Nans reached into her purse and pulled out a business card, which she handed to Victor.
Victor looked down at the card. “‘Brook Ridge Falls Ladies Detective Club.’ That’s impressive … and sounds like fun. Have you solved any good cases?”
Nans nodded. “We work with the police all the time and have helped them solve lots of cases. But, of course I can’t be more specific due to confidentiality and all that.”
“Of course, I understand,” Victor said, “but what makes you so sure the person who belonged to the skull met with a suspicious death?”
Nans glanced at the others. “Well, we’re not entirely sure, but we have it on good authority the skull had a bullet hole in it.”
Victor gasped. “A bullet hole? Well, that sure does sound like foul play … or maybe suicide.”
“Either way, we need to investigate,” Helen said. “He could have family members that have been wondering about him all these years.”
“Of course.” Victor slid his chair over next to Helen and bent his head over the blueprints. “So you’re looking for a way into the old sewer system then?”
Ruth nodded. “We’re hoping we can find some clues as to what happened back then.”
“But how will you get in? I hear all the entrances are being sealed off with this new sewer project,” Victor said.
“They are,” Ida answered. “But we’ve learned there are some underground entrances and we plan to find out exactly where they are.”
“Do you have any idea who the victim is?” Victor glanced at Helen out of the corner of his eye.
“None at all,” Helen said. “We only know he’s been down there for decades … maybe sixty or seventy years even.”
“Well, this sounds kind of dangerous,” Victor said.
“And exciting,” Nans added.
“It does sound rather exciting. An old buck like me could use some excitement. But you ladies could get hurt.” Victor put his hand on Helen’s arm. “Maybe I should accompany you.”
“Maybe …” Helen, Nans, Ruth and Ida exchanged uncertain glances. Lexy could tell they were torn between being polite and not wanting to let Victor in on their plans.
“I’m not sure,” Nans said. “Lexy’s the only one we ever let help us with our investigations.”
“Perhaps we should take a look at these plans first,” Victor suggested.
“Yes, let's.” Helen re-anchored the corner that had come loose from under the mug and the five gray heads bent over the blueprint.
“This is the downtown section.” Nans pointed to something on the upper left. “That’s where the manhole cover for the main entrance is.”
“Perfect, we’ll just go in through there,” Helen said.
“You can’t,” Lexy cut in and everyone turned to look at her. “Jack said it could only be opened with some special tool. It’s too heavy for you and besides, it’s right in the middle of downtown. What are you going to do? Stop the traffic so you can climb in the sewer hole?”
“We’ll just have to find some other way,” Nans said picking up one of the other rolls and spreading it on the table.
The five of them studied it for several minutes without finding an easy entrance to the sewer.
“There’s nothing on this one, let’s check the next one,” Ruth said.
Victor looked at his watch. “Darn, I better get back to the store. I’m meeting a customer who wants to consign some vintage jewelry. You ladies will let me know if you need my assistance later on, won’t you?”
The four ladies murmured a “Yes” and Victor stood, then nodded at each of them. Lexy thought she saw him wink at Helen, but she couldn’t be sure.
He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and turned to Lexy. “What do I owe you?”
“Oh, don’t worry about that. It’s on the house,” Lexy said as she walked him to the door. “We neighbors have to stick together.”
“Ain’t that the truth?.” Victor glanced knowingly across the street then headed out.
“I thought he’d never leave.” Nans sighed.
“Yeah, imagine him trying to hone in on our investigation,” Helen said.
“I think he’s kind of sweet on you, Helen,” Ida teased.
Helen’s cheeks turned pink. “What? Don’t be silly … he’s way too old for me.”
Nans, Ruth and Ida raised their brows at her.
Helen looked at Lexy and smoothly changed the subject. “Did you ask Jack if the police found out anything about the murder when they were down in the sewer?”
“No, they didn’t find anything and he made it sound like they aren’t going to pursue it anymore,” Lexy said.
“I figured that,” Nans answered. “So it’s up to us.”
“Right.” Lexy chewed her bottom lip. She wasn’t sure how involved she wanted to get in this whole sewer business. Victor was right, it did seem dangerous. And the murder was decades old, so who really cared? But she didn’t want to disappoint Nans and she knew the older woman would go ahead no matter what. Lexy knew she couldn’t talk Nans out of it. Her only hope was that Nans would get too busy with the historical society project to have time to investigate.
“I did find something in Jack’s basement you guys might be in
terested in,” Lexy said.
“Really?” Nans raised a brow at Lexy.
“Yeah, he had a stack of newspapers from 1948 down there. I saved them out for you guys.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful … does it have articles from the bank robbery?” Ida asked.
“I don’t know. I didn’t read any of them.”
“Let’s see them.” Ruth looked around the shop. “Where are they?”
“Sorry, I left them at Jack’s,” Lexy said. “But I promise to pick them up tonight and bring them to work tomorrow, so if you guys are going to stop by, I’ll have them.”
“We’ll make a point of it, won’t we, girls?” Ida asked.
“Of course,” Nans answered and then turned to Lexy. “Now let’s get back to these sewer plans, I don’t see any entrances we can use on either of these.”
The ladies rolled out the rest of the sheets and poured over them. Finally, Nans said, “I don’t think we have the whole town here.”
Lexy frowned down at the papers. “It sure looks like it.”
“No,” Nans insisted. “Look. Here is Adams Street, then Berkley, then Maple, but it ends at Cedar. This section of town here is missing.”
“Hmmm … You’re right,” Ida said.
“Wait. Let’s lay them out end to end.” Lexy grabbed the papers to do just that when the bell over the door jingled and Lexy turned to see a middle-aged man enter the bakery.
A customer!
She dropped the papers, a smile springing to her lips as she made her way behind the bakery case from which, hopefully, the customer would be making some purchases.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
“Why yes, I’d like one of these scones, if I may.” The man pointed to the glass pedestal and Lexy grabbed a square of waxed paper and selected the largest scone.
“Is that to eat here?” Lexy asked.
“Yes.”
“We have coffee and tea over at the self-serve station if you’d like,” she offered.
The man looked over as he pulled out his wallet. “I’ll take a large coffee too.”
Lexy rang up the purchase and the man ambled over to pour himself a coffee while Nans, Ruth, Ida, and Helen moved the papers that were spilling over onto the other tables.
The man took a seat and the ladies bent back over the blueprints talking in hushed tones. Lexy busied herself cleaning off the self-serve station.
“Aghh … pfft.”
Lexy whirled around to see the man grabbing at his tongue while making choking and gurgling noises.
“Are you okay? What happened?” Lexy rushed to his side.
“Okay? Pfftt …” The man glared at Lexy as he continued to grab at his tongue. “I should say not!”
Nans, Ruth, Ida and Helen had stopped talking and were staring at the man.
Lexy raised her brows at him. “I don’t understand, what’s the matter?”
“I’ll tell you what the matter is,” he said stabbing his finger at the half-eaten pastry. “There’s a big clump of hair in my scone!”
Chapter Nine
“What?” Lexy stared at the scone. “I can assure you there are no hairs in my pastries!”
“You can see it right there,” the man sputtered as he slammed closed the notebook he had open on the table beside him.
Lexy bent down to look closer at the scone and gasped. There was some hair there … a small clump of short light-colored hairs.
“What’s this? These weren’t here before,” Lexy said.
Nans, Ruth, Ida and Helen craned their necks to see the hairs.
“Oh dear, that does look like hair,” Ida said.
“But how would it get there?” Lexy asked. “I have a very clean kitchen.”
“That’s right, she’s never had any kind of problem with contamination before,” Nans added.
Lexy narrowed her eyes at the man who hastily jammed his arms in the sleeves of his coat. “Wait a minute, how do I know you didn’t plant that in there?”
The man’s faced turned red. “Plant it? Madam, don’t you know who I am?”
Lexy glanced at Nans and the ladies who all shook their heads. “No.”
“I’m Edgar Royce,” the man stated.
Nans gasped.
“The food critic?” Lexy’s brows shot upwards. That would be terribly bad luck to have one of the most influential food critics find a hair in her scone—the very recipe she was planning to enter in the bicentennial contest.
The man nodded. “And you can rest assured I will not be giving you a favorable review. In fact, I should probably call the health inspector on you.”
Lexy’s stomach twisted. That was the last thing she needed on top of everything else. The timing of this was unfortunate … too unfortunate not to be suspicious.
“Wait a minute,” she said as the man brushed past her on his way to the door. “What made you decide to come here today?”
“I got a call. Someone raving about your pastries and saying I should try the scones since it was some famous family recipe or something,” he said. “I thought it would make an appealing article as I was told your great-grandmother won contests with that same recipe. I can only assume she omitted the hair.”
“Do you know who called?” Lexy followed him to the door. “A man or a woman?”
“Lady, I have no idea. I just got the message from my editor.” He stepped around her toward the door. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be on my way.”
“Of course,” Lexy said. “At least let me give you your money back. I’m so sorry this happened.”
“Never mind about the money. If you want my advice, I think you better go over your kitchen with a fine tooth comb and make sure you have sanitary baking practices,” he barked before turning on his heel and storming out the door.
“Well, I never!” Ruth said. “What was that all about?”
“It appears as if someone is setting me up.” Lexy slid her eyes toward The Brew and Bake. “And I think I have a pretty good idea who it is.”
***
The cold air stung Lexy’s face as she flung open the door to The Cup and Cake. She didn’t notice it though, despite the fact she hadn’t put on a coat. Her anger kept her warm.
She stormed across the street, past the television crew loading their equipment into the van, and straight into The Brew and Bake.
“Just what are you up to?” she demanded.
Caraleigh looked at her in surprise. “Excuse me? Are you referring to the television segment?”
“No. I’m referring to Edgar Royce.”
Caraleigh answered her with a blank stare. The customers who had been in the shop, probably trying to get their fifteen minutes of fame on television, edged their way to the door.
“Don’t play dumb with me.” Lexy stepped closer to the blonde baker. “You know who he is—the food critic.”
Caraleigh fisted her hands on her hips. “I have no idea what you are talking about and I don’t appreciate your tone.”
Lexy got right in Caraleigh’s face. “Don’t give me that. I know you sabotaged my scones and then sent him in to give me a bad review.”
“Like you should talk. What about the article in the Sentinel bashing my pastries? Wasn’t it written by one of your friends sitting in your bakery right now?”
Caraleigh shot her arm out to point across the street. Lexy’s gaze followed noticing Nans, Ruth, Ida and Helen, their faces pressed against the glass window of The Cup and Cake looking back at them.
“She did an independent test comparing them!” Lexy said.
Caraleigh’s face started to turn an unhealthy shade of pink. “Independent my ass. First you accuse me of being a thief, and now this? You better watch it or you might find yourself on the business end of a lawsuit.”
Anger bubbled up inside Lexy. She jabbed her finger in Caraleigh’s face. “You sue me? Ha! That’s a laugh. I’m the one that should sue you!”
“Okay, break it up.”
L
exy whipped her head around to see Watson Davies quickly making her way toward them.
“What is it with you two?” Davies pushed the two of them apart glaring at each of them in turn.
“She’s trying to ruin my business,” Lexy complained to Davies.
“No! She’s trying to ruin mine!” Caraleigh said.
“You sound like two year olds,” Davies replied.
Caraleigh’s brows dipped. “What are you doing here, anyway?”
“I was actually on my way to The Cup and Cake to talk to Lexy about the break-in and I saw the two of you fighting over here.”
“So, you checked out her alibi?” Lexy thrust her chin toward Caraleigh. “Are you going to arrest her?”
“No. Her alibi checked out just like she said.”
Lexy’s stomach sank. “What? Well, surely you’re not going to believe her brother. He probably lied for her. I mean it must have been her—who else would break in?”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” Davies took Lexy’s elbow and tugged her toward the door. “It would be better if we talked over in your store, though.”
“See … I told you I didn’t do it!” Caraleigh yelled after them. “Hey, I want my ring back and I might want to press ch—”
Davies closed the door, cutting off Caraleigh’s rant. She kept her vise-like grip on Lexy’s elbow, propelling her across the street and into The Cup and Cake.
Nans, Ruth, Ida and Helen, who had watched them intently as they crossed the street, sat facing the door with questioning looks.
“Well, did she do it? Nans asked.
“She denied it, but it must have been her,” Lexy replied.
“What are you guys talking about?” Davies forehead creased at Lexy.
“A food critic found hair in Lexy’s scones … so naturally, we assumed that other woman planted it.” Nans gestured to the scone on the table, one small bite taken out of the corner.
Davies looked at the plate. “It does have hair on it. But how would she plant it? Was she over here?”
Nans pressed her lips together. “I didn’t see her. Was she here Lexy?”
8 Scones, Skulls & Scams Page 5
