“So you’re out of suspects?” Jack raised a brow at Lexy, then grabbed the platter and headed out to the grill.
“No, we have one other.” Lexy got up and started setting out plates and a salad on the small table they had setup for eating on.
“Who is this other suspect?” Jack prompted as he dished steaks onto their plates.
Lexy glanced out the window to make sure no one else was around. “Another chef—one who was threatening Dugasse about his chili recipe.”
Jack’s eyebrows shot up. “I didn’t know he was getting threats. That sounds like something to investigate. I hope Payne is aware of that.”
“I’m sure he is.” Lexy put a small chunk of steak in her mouth and it practically melted on her tongue. She rolled her eyes back in her head. “Nummy … this is sooo good.”
Sprinkles put her paw on Lexy’s foot and stared at her as if to say “don’t forget to give me some.” Lexy’s heart surged and she threw her a small piece.
“Anyway,” Lexy said. “Dugasse’s son said this Marchesi guy—that’s the other chef—tried to buy the chili recipe and when Dugasse refused he got mad.”
“Wait … Dugasse has a son?”
Lexy nodded. “Yeah, I guess it was kind of a secret …” She let her voice trail off not wanting to get into the details of how she found out about the son.
“Speaking of the chili recipe … are we going to the big Chili Battle tomorrow night?” Jack asked.
“Of course. It should be interesting, considering what happened to Dugasse.” Lexy purposely forgot to tell him about Dugasse’s son entering the contest with the recipe.
“That’s for sure. And I heard there were going to be fireworks after. How about we bring a big blanket and spread it out on the hill? We can gorge ourselves on chili and then lay back and watch the fireworks.”
“Sounds good.” Lexy’s stomach flipped wondering how she’d manage to eat chili with Jack and stalk Marchesi at the same time.
Jack finished off the last of his steak and salad, then took a long pull on his beer.
“The thing is, I’m not really sure how to go about getting clues that prove Marchesi is the killer,” Lexy said, wiping her plate clean and stacking it on top of Jack’s.
Jack leaned back and took another sip of beer. “I would try to establish a timeline … where was Marchesi when the murder happened? Do you think he did it himself or did he have an accomplice?”
Lexy pursed her lips. “I don’t know, I hadn’t thought about it.”
“One technique we like to use is to simply follow and observe … we do it with suspects or people that seem to know too much about the case. Usually something shakes out. Criminals like that are dumb and all it takes is watching them a bit to find a clue.”
Lexy settled back in her chair. She’d have to have Ruth find out where Marchesi was staying and then maybe one of them could follow him around while Lexy was working tomorrow morning.
“But you need to be careful if you follow this guy around … he could be a killer. You’d be smart to leave that part to Payne.” Jack’s eyes drilled into hers as if he was reading her thoughts.
“Oh, of course,” she said, then stood up and walked to the fridge, thinking to distract him from giving her the usual lecture about messing in police business with his favorite coconut cream pie.
She opened the door, enjoying the blast of cool air. “I have your favorite pie for dessert,” she said, looking at him over the top of the door.
Jack got up and walked over to her, pulling her out from behind the door and closing it. He slid his arm around her waist, dragging her to him. He dipped his head, his lips brushing lightly against hers.
“Actually, I had something else in mind for dessert.”
Chapter Eighteen
Lexy was halfway through frosting a batch of miniature cupcakes when Nans, Ruth, Ida and Helen showed up in the kitchen the next morning. She glanced nervously out the window, half expecting to see a shiny new Harley in the parking lot.
“How was biker bingo? Did you guys win anything?”
“Ida won a hundred dollars, Helen got a gift certificate for a pedicure and Ruth and I got skunked.” Nans shook her head.
Lexy made a face. “A gift certificate for a pedicure? Who would have thought bikers would want that as a prize?”
Nans shrugged. “I guess one of the bikers has a salon and he donated it.”
“So you didn’t win the Harley?” Lexy eyed Ruth.
“No.” Ruth laughed. “I guess I’ll have to make do with my Oldsmobile.”
“Probably safer,” Lexy offered.
“For everyone,” Helen added and Nans and Ida snickered.
“But we did get the V.I.P. passes,” Ruth said to Lexy. “We’re supposed to meet Snake, Rat and the gang at the field around five.”
“Okay.” Lexy checked her watch. “I’m tied up here this morning but I was thinking it might be smart to follow Marchesi around today. If he is the killer and he’s still after the recipe, he might do something suspicious.”
“Good idea. I’m sure he must be in town by now for the contest,” Ida said.
“Did you ever look into that?” Nans asked Ruth.
“Not yet. Shouldn’t be too hard though.” Ruth leaned in and said in a low voice, “I have a great program that hacks the hotel guest databases.”
“Easy peasy. We’ll just find out where he is then stake out his hotel and put a tail on him if he leaves.” Lexy thought Nans looked quite pleased that she’d been able to fit lots of police jargon in that sentence.
“Okay, but don’t confront him. He could be dangerous,” Lexy said, then wondered if she’d been listening to Jack too much.
A splash of vibrant color at the front of the kitchen caught her eye and her heart sunk when she saw Detective Payne in a bright pink shirt and pink, white and blue plaid shorts making his way down the aisle toward her.
“What is it?” Nans turned to see what was causing the look of distaste on Lexy’s face. “Oh. Well, time for us to go.”
Nans, Ruth, Ida and Helen turned abruptly and scooted off in the other direction before Lexy even had time to say good-bye.
Payne smiled at the cupcakes, then frowned at Lexy. “Miss Baker, I hear you’ve been making the rounds.”
“The rounds?” Lexy tried on her best wide-eyed innocent look. “I have no idea what you mean.”
Payne narrowed his eyes at her then grabbed a little cupcake and shoved the whole thing in his mouth. He brought the spiral notebook and pencil out of his pocket.
“I think you know we have a new suspect,” he said, studying her reaction. A glob of blue frosting rested on the corner of his mouth.
Lexy raised an eyebrow. She didn’t point out the frosting.
“It seems Dugasse had a son,” Payne announced.
“I knew that,” Lexy said. “But the son didn’t kill him.”
“Oh really? And how do you know that?”
Lexy pressed her lips together. She was already in enough trouble with Payne and didn’t want to tell him she’d scouted out the biker camp on her own or that she’d found the bracelet at the head of the trail.
“Rumors around the kitchen.” She waved her hand around the room.
Payne looked at the ceiling and tapped the eraser end of his pencil on his lips. The glob of frosting quivered but stayed in place.
“Seems like you know an awful lot about this murder … for someone who isn’t really involved.”
Lexy’s stomach sank. Whenever she talked to Payne she seemed to get herself in more trouble. All the more reason to investigate this herself, she thought.
Payne picked another cupcake off the tray and shoved it in his mouth. This one with chocolate frosting. “I trust you’ll be going to the Chili Battle?”
Lexy nodded. What an odd thing for him to ask.
“Good, then all my favorite suspects will be in the same area at once.”
And with that he turned and walked
off leaving Lexy to wonder what he meant.
###
The fairgrounds at Lakeshore Resort where the Chili Battle was being held was a giant field with barns at one end. Today, a big section was roped off and Lexy could see canopies being setup in rows. Two men in khaki shirts guarded the entrance.
Nans pulled the V.I.P. passes out of her giant purse and handed them out so each of them could show their ticket and be let inside. Since the event wasn’t open for the general public, there wasn’t a lot of people, but those that were there seemed to be quite busy.
It was sectioned off into booths each about ten by twenty and with a post that held boxy electrical outlets. The contestants were setting up their tents and tables and getting their cookware in order. Lexy remembered that Rat had said they weren’t allowed to start cooking until noon tomorrow. She figured most of the contestants wanted to make sure they had everything in good order tonight so they could get right into cooking first thing the next day.
“So you didn’t find out anything today when you followed Marchesi?” Lexy said once they were far enough away from anyone who might overhear.
“No,” Nans said. “It was boring. Helen fell asleep in the back seat.”
“He stayed in the hotel and went out once to the grocery store. Bought a lot of beans,” Ida added.
“But you got a good look at him, right? So you’ll recognize him if you see him here.”
“Oh we got a good look,” Nans said, craning her neck to scan the area. “But I don’t see him here.”
“How about we go logically down the rows and check out each booth?” Ruth asked.
“Okay, we’ll start at this end.” Lexy pointed to a booth in the corner. “Then go up and down the rows.”
They started toward the end and Lexy felt a tingle at the base of her neck. Was someone watching her? She turned around but didn’t see anyone. Probably just nerves about what might happen if they have a run-in with Marchesi, she thought.
They walked the rows methodically. Lexy noticed a lot of the contestants had special canopies with their names. Probably not unusual considering the amount of money at stake. She wondered if some of them were professional contestants or just people that liked to make chili.
Nans stopped in front of a booth that had a tropical looking canopy with “Chilin’ Chili” written on it in scrolly letters. The canopy was turquoise and pink and the contestants inside had matching aprons. Even their crock pots were turquoise.
“This looks like a fun booth,” Nans said.
One of the aproned contestants smiled over at Nans. “It is. We even give out small margarita samples.” She nodded to the stack of cups.
A second lady glanced up. “Be sure to come back tomorrow for the tasting … and vote for us!”
Nans winked at Lexy as they continued down the row. “I know the first place I’ll be heading to tomorrow night.”
They passed more interesting booths. “Hot to Taught” was manned by teachers and “It’s a Gas” claimed to have the hottest—and gassiest—chili in the contest.
As they walked the rows, Lexy couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. She kept looking behind her, but didn’t see anyone.
They found Rat, Snake and the others in a booth in the third row. Nans rushed right over and Lexy watched the four older women exchange high-fives with the six bikers.
Lexy noticed their tent was a plain white color with Dugasse written in script on an awning that hung on the front. The guys wore plain black aprons and Rat shuffled around inside, placing items in one spot, then moving them a few seconds later.
“What’s that for?” Ruth asked pointing to a large grill they had setup in the corner.
“We’re going to warm the cornbread up on it so it will be lightly grilled.” Rat smiled proudly. “It’s going to be the best cornbread in the contest.”
“Over here we have the crockpots … this is where we’ll start the beans in the secret sauce right at noon.” Snake pointed to a table with rows of mismatched crockpots on it. Lexy wondered if the boys had attended every yard sale in a ten mile radius to amass the odd collection.
“And over here we’ll cook up the meat.” Weasel walked over to a stove plate that sat on another table.
“Then we mix it all together with vegetables and put it back in the crockpot to simmer for a few hours,” Rat said.
“Sounds like you guys have it all worked out.” Nans looked around the booth, then lowered her voice. “Have you seen Marchesi?”
“No, we were afraid he might come by and bother us, but nothing so far. I’m not sure he even knows who we are.” Rat shrugged.
“But if he tries anything, he’ll be sorry,” Snake said, pointing to a stack of baseball bats in the corner.
“I heard his booth was in the very last row,” Rat said.
“We should go check it out. He doesn’t know who we are so maybe we can interrogate him and get him to slip up,” Ida said.
Lexy mashed her brows together. “Interrogate him? That might not be such a good idea.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean in an obvious way, dear,” Ida said. “You know us old ladies have a way of interrogating people without them realizing it.”
Lexy gave a half nod. She had to admit, being an octogenarian did have its advantages, one of which was that people paid little attention to what you asked and tended to spill their guts before they even realized what they were saying.
Nans clapped her hands together and started toward the aisle. “Shall we?”
Ruth, Ida, Helen and Lexy said a quick good-bye to the bikers and followed her out. She made her way down to the end of the row and skipped over the next one heading straight for the last row of booths. Lexy followed along, ignoring the feeling that she was being watched.
She rounded the corner to see Nans standing in front of one of the booths.
“Here it is.” Nans pointed up at the awning which said Marchesi in block letters along with a black and white line drawing of the chef.
“No one is here.” Ida looked deflated.
Lexy glanced around. The booth was blocked off, with tables set up around the edges where one would normally enter. The back had tables too and those were loaded with high tech stainless steel crockpots and racks of spices. On one of the tables close to them was a picture of Marchesi in his chef’s uniform in the kitchen.
Lexy picked up the picture. “So this is him?”
Nans looked over her shoulder. “Yep. Looks like he’s in his restaurant or something.”
“Who’s that other guy next to him?” Helen asked.
“I don’t know … wait a minute.” Nans grabbed the picture from Lexy and held it close to her face.
“It couldn’t be …” Her voice trailed off as she set the picture down and dug in her purse. She produced something wrapped in a tissue, her eyes lighting up as she unwrapped the tissue and looked inside.
“It is!”
“Is what?” Lexy asked.
Nans laid the object flat in her palm and Lexy recognized it as the bloodied scrap of fabric she’d found under the dumpster.
“The pattern on this fabric matches the pattern on that guy’s shirt in the picture … exactly.” Nans emphasized the last word by stabbing her index finger at the man standing next to Marchesi in the picture.
Lexy squinted, comparing the two fabrics and her stomach lurched … Nans was right.
Ida gasped her eyes riveting between the scrap of fabric and the picture. “That’s it! He’s the killer!”
###
“Shhh!” Nans looked at Ida. “This doesn’t prove that he’s the killer … just that he has the same shirt.”
“Actually, we don’t even know that swatch is from the killer,” Lexy said.
“It could have been there before the murder,” Ruth reminded them.
“We probably shouldn’t have taken it.” Lexy’s stomach sank. “Now Payne will have no way to tie this to the scene of the crime.”
“Yeah, it’s
unlikely that he’ll believe us if we suddenly come forward and say we found it there,” Ruth said.
“Maybe the best thing to do is to give this to Weasel. He had a cousin on the police force. He might know what to do about it.”
Nans frowned down at the swatch. “Yeah, probably. I guess we’ll just have to find some other evidence or get Marchesi to admit to it.”
“Too bad we couldn’t catch him trying to steal the recipe or threatening Rat and the gang.”
“Does he even know that Rat is Dugasse’s son?”
“Not according to what Rat said earlier,” Lexy answered.
“So, for all we know, he thinks he’s got the contest all tied up since Dugasse is dead,” Ruth said.
“Which is good because when killers think they are in the clear, they tend to let their guard down,” Ida added.
“Well, let's get this swatch back to Weasel.” Nans wrapped the fabric back in the tissue and put it in her purse. “We can come back to the booth tomorrow when Marchesi is sure to be here and see if we can get him to admit to being the killer … or at least having his henchman do it.”
As they turned to head back down the aisle, Lexy’s heart jolted when she caught a glimpse of someone ducking out of sight at the end of the row.
“Hey! You!” She ran toward the person but when she got to the end no one was there—just a crowd of people milling about the area looking in the various booths.
“Damn!” She stopped and waited for Nans and the ladies to catch up.
“What is it?” Nans asked.
“I thought I saw someone watching us.” Lexy stood on her tip toes scanning the crowd. “I’ve had the feeling someone has been following us all night.”
Nans pursed her lips together. “Interesting … why would someone follow us?”
Lexy shrugged. “I don’t know, but I’m willing to bet it has something to do with Dugasse’s murder.”
Bake, Battle & Roll (A Lexy Baker Bakery Cozy Mystery) Page 10
