Leighann Dobbs - Lexy Baker 10 - Mummified Meringues

by Leighann Dobbs

  Lexy added salt, cream of tartar and a little vanilla extract to the egg whites, set the hand mixer inside the bowl and turned it on.

  “Anyway, I’m stopping over at Nans after I get this new recipe in the oven. Will you watch the shop for me?” Lexy yelled over the sound of the beater.

  “Of course.” Cassie glanced up from her work. “So, tell me, what does a mummy look like, exactly, and how does a body get that way?”

  “Brown and leathery … I was surprised, but it really did look a lot like an old Egyptian mummy. I guess that’s what happens when a body is sealed up with not a lot of air circulation.”

  “You’d think it would have smelled all this time.”

  “It probably did at first.” Lexy turned off the beater and stuck a spoon into the egg white mixture, pulled it out slowly and watched the resulting peak carefully. It stood straight up. Perfect. She checked her recipe notes, which she’d adjusted to use a pinch more sugar than the ones she’d made the day before. She measured the sugar into a cup. “Jack said it would be long past smelling by now.”

  “It must have smelled at first, though … you’d think the neighbors would have noticed.”

  Lexy poured a little of the sugar into the egg mixture and turned the beater on again. “Jack said he thought it might have been the builder that hid the body. I mean, I can’t imagine the nice couple that lived in his house being involved. I think all those houses were built around the same time, so there were probably no neighbors to notice the smell.”

  “I guess that makes sense. It must have been scary finding that in the basement and then realizing it had been there the whole time. Was there anything else in there with the body?”

  Lexy added a little more sugar and turned on the beater. “Just the clothes and the sachets.”

  “Sachets?”

  “Yeah, you know those little perfumed pouches you put in your drawers? These still smelled like lavender. I guess they never lose their smell, even after being sealed up with a mummy.”

  “They were sealed up in there with it?”

  “Yep. I assume the killer thought it would mask the smell.”

  “Really?” Cassie scrunched her face up. “What kind of builder carries around lavender sachets?”

  Lexy added the rest of the sugar and beat it into the egg whites carefully, her mind trying to conjure up an image of a burly builder with lavender sachets in his pockets. She was pretty sure no builder would be caught dead with them.

  Which begged the question—who the heck put them in there?

  Chapter Four

  Lexy finished with the meringues and loaded the batches she’d made earlier in the morning into two white boxes, which she secured with old-fashioned pink and white striped baker’s twine. One box was for Nans and the other for her first stop—the previous owners of Jack’s house, Charlie and Lois McDonald.

  She pulled her VW Beetle onto Main Street, then followed that to County Road. The assisted living complex the McDonalds had moved to was several miles away, off County Road. The traffic was almost nonexistent and Lexy let herself relax while she drank in the blue skies, lush woods, and occasional cow-dotted field along the way.

  She was almost at her destination when a blue car coming the other way jolted her out of her driving trance.

  Was that Ruth’s Oldsmobile?

  She squinted out the windshield as the two cars drew closer to one another. It was the same blue color and make as Ruth’s 1970s Olds and, as far as Lexy knew, Ruth was the only one in the county that drove one. It had to be her.

  But something was odd. Ruth rarely drove the car and when she did it was usually to shuttle Nans, Ida and Helen somewhere in search of clues … and that was only when they couldn’t talk Lexy into driving them. But she didn’t see the usual four heads sticking up—there was only one.

  As the cars passed each other, her heart skipped a beat. The driver was Nans.

  Lexy tooted the horn and waved, but Nans paid no mind. Her eyes stared straight ahead, her hands gripping the steering wheel at the ten o’clock and two o’clock positions. Lexy wasn’t surprised that her grandmother was unwaveringly focused on driving. Nans hardly ever drove anymore, which made her wonder what was so important that Nans would strike out in the car by herself.

  She didn’t have long to ponder it, though, because the turnoff to the assisted living was upon her. She parked, grabbed her white bakery box and headed inside. Lexy had met the McDonalds several years ago through Nans. She knew that Charlie had some problems walking and they had moved to this facility as opposed to the Brook Ridge Retirement Center, where Nans lived, because this one offered private apartments with assistance on site, but she had no idea what unit they lived in.

  Lexy had stopped in at the office and was directed to apartment 112 where she now stood, rapping on the door loudly.

  The lock clicked and a vaguely familiar, wrinkled face peered out.

  “Mrs. McDonald?”

  The woman nodded.

  “Do you remember me? I’m Mona Baker’s granddaughter, Lexy.” She held up the white box. “I brought you some meringue cookies.”

  “Why, Lexy. Yes, of course. Do come in.” Lois opened the door wider and Lexy could see Charlie standing behind her. Neither of them seemed that surprised to see her, but Lexy figured at their age, not much was surprising.

  The apartment was small, but neat as a pin. To the right was a kitchen with almond Formica cabinets and a matching Formica counter. Stainless steel appliances winked at her. The kitchen was open, with a breakfast bar opening to a small dining area.

  “Good to see you, Lexy,” Charlie let go of the grip on his walker and his strong handshake surprised Lexy. He motioned to the living room in front of them. “Come on in.”

  Charlie ushered her over to a beige leatherette sofa while Lois rushed the box into the kitchen.

  “This is a lovely surprise, Lacey,” Lois shot over her shoulder as she arranged the cookies on a pink Depression-era glass plate.

  “Lexy.”

  “Yes, of course. Sorry Lucy.” Lois plopped the plate of cookies on the coffee table and tapped her head. “The memory isn’t what it used to be.”

  “How is Mona?” Charlie turned to Lois. “We haven’t seen her in months, right dear?”

  “That’s right. I hope she is doing well.” Lois turned to Lexy.

  “Very well.” At least, I think she is.

  “Did you bake these?” Charlie pointed at the cookies.

  “Yes. I own the bakery The Cup and Cake downtown. I’m trying out a new recipe for the Brook Ridge Falls annual dessert contest.” Lexy picked up the plate and held it out to him. “Please, try one.”

  Charlie took a cookie and Lexy passed the plate over to Lois. Then they all sat there looking at each other.

  Lexy decided to get down to business. “I don’t know if you know this, but I married the man that bought your house.”

  “Oh?” Lois raised her brow. “That’s nice, dear.”

  “Yes. Well, anyway, we were cleaning out the basement—”

  “Such a nice young man he was, wasn’t he, Mother?” Charlie interrupted.

  “Oh, yes.” Lois nodded. “I think he was a butcher.”

  “No, I believe he was a gardener.”

  Lois narrowed her eyes. “No, that’s not it either. I’m pretty sure he was a food critic.”

  “No, dear. He was a—.”

  “He’s a police detective.” Lexy had to cut Charlie off or she feared they’d go on like this all day.

  “Yes, that’s right.” Lois nodded and settled back in her chair. “Anyway, what did you say about the bathroom?”

  “The basement.”

  “Oh, yes. That house had a nice, large one. Did he refinish it? We were always going to do that.” Charlie’s expression turned wistful.

  “No. It was full. Of your stuff,” Lexy said. “That’s actually why I’m here.”

  Lois waved her hand around. “Oh, whatever you find
down there you can keep, dear. Isn’t that right, Charlie?”

  “Yes, of course. As you can see, we don’t have much room here.”

  “It’s not about the items. I was wondering about the basement itself,” Lexy said. “Did you ever notice anything strange about it?”

  “The Grange Hall? No, I don’t think we had anything down there from the Grange Hall.” Lois bit into her meringue cookie and made a face.

  “No, not the Grange—I said strange. Did you notice anything unusual about the basement … a smell, or maybe something about the walls?”

  Lois and Charlie looked at each other and shrugged.

  “I think we had some beach balls and probably a few tennis balls,” Charlie said. “Lois here used to be quite the tennis player in her day.”

  The two of them fell silent, reveling in their old memories, judging by the wistful smiles on their faces. Disappointment prickled through Lexy’s veins. She hadn’t gotten any useful information from the McDonalds.

  Were they too senile to be reliable?

  She didn’t know what she was hoping to find out. If Jack’s theory of the killer being the builder was true, then the McDonalds most likely had no idea what was hidden in their basement … and Lexy certainly wasn’t going to be the one to tell them. They’d find out soon enough.

  “When you bought the house, did you notice the basement walls were strange?”

  “Oh, we were so excited. It was our first house, you know. We were going to decorate the basement like a speakeasy … we planned to finish the walls off and …” Lois’s voice trailed off and she shrugged. “We started to do a little remodeling down there, but then life got in the way and we just started using it as storage.”

  “We never really did a lot down there. It was just storage,” Charlie added.

  “Did you notice the builder acting strange or anything that seemed out of place right after you moved in? You were the first people to move in on that street, right?”

  “Oh, no, Mona was there already, and Paddy and Mary Sullivan. Floyd Nichols had just moved in the week before us. The builder was very nice and it was a wonderful neighborhood. We were all very close back in the day,” Charlie said.

  “Yes,” Lois added. “We had a lot of fun. Lots of backyard parties and barbecues. People just don’t do that sort of thing anymore.” Lois’s eyes turned sad. “I guess they prefer to stay inside, watching cable TV or tweeting and posting on Facebook.”

  Lexy was taken aback. If people already lived in the neighborhood, wouldn’t they have smelled something? Especially Nans, who lived right behind them. Lexy felt certain the neighbors would have had some sort of welcoming party if they were as close as Lois said.

  “And none of your new neighbors mentioned anything odd about your house when you moved in?”

  “Odd? No, not our house.” Charlie pressed his lips together and looked at the ceiling. “There was this one incident years after we moved in. Apparently, a stranger was seen skulking around the neighborhood.”

  Lexy’s ears perked up. “A stranger? What do you mean?”

  Lois shrugged. “I’m not sure. We just heard about it when we got back … we were on vacation in Europe that summer but there was definitely a suspicious stranger around.” She glanced at Charlie. “Right?”

  “That’s right. They told us about it when we got back. Someone with a tattered sweatshirt who didn’t fit in. The neighbors were in an uproar.”

  “I was a little nervous because they claimed he was near our house. But that was so long ago I barely remember.” Lois stood and helped Charlie out of his chair, then they made their way toward the door.

  Lexy didn’t want to overstay her welcome, but she figured she could get one last question in. “When you came back from vacation, did you notice anything strange about the house?”

  Lois and Charlie glanced at each other. “No, dear, we didn’t have any problems with mice … did you say you saw a mouse?”

  “No. No mouse.” Lexy slipped through the door Lois was now holding open, then turned back to look at the couple. “Well, it was nice talking to you.”

  “You, too, dear, and thank you for the cookies.” Lois leaned toward her, her voice lowered to a whisper. “They were very good, but they could use a touch more sugar.”

  Chapter Five

  Lexy wasn’t surprised she didn’t get anything useful from the McDonalds. If Jack’s theory about the builder was true, they wouldn’t know anything about how the body got in their basement. Although the information about the stranger certainly was interesting—she’d have to ask Nans about that. But Lois and Charlie had said the stranger was seen years after they’d bought the house, so it probably wasn’t related. And besides, Lexy didn’t know how much she could trust what they said—they seemed rather confused about a lot of things.

  Nans still hadn’t called her back, but Lexy needed to continue on without her. Jack had said the first thing to do was find out more about the builder, but how did one find out information on someone who built a house over sixty years ago, and was probably retired or dead by now? Lexy figured the best way was to use the internet, and if anyone could dig up the info it would be Nans’ friends—two of the members of the Ladies Detective Club—Ruth and Helen.

  And that’s exactly where she was headed, to the Brook Ridge Retirement Center where she could, hopefully, catch up with Nans and fill the four ladies in on the grave discovery in Jack’s basement.

  Gray clouds had rolled in, spoiling the blue sky and causing a light sprinkle as Lexy pulled into the retirement community parking lot. She grabbed her box of meringues and sprinted for the glass door that opened into the lobby, holding the box over her head as a makeshift umbrella.

  The door whooshed shut behind her and she turned left to go down the hallway to Nans apartment.

  “Yoo-hoo! Lexy, is that you?” Ida’s voice rang out from behind her and Lexy turned to see Ruth, Helen, and Ida sitting at one of the round tables in the spacious lobby that doubled as a gathering room.

  “Hi!” Lexy changed direction and headed toward them, frowning at the empty fourth seat where Nans would normally be sitting.

  “She’s not here.” Ruth stated the obvious.

  “I thought I saw her driving your car earlier,” Lexy said.

  Ruth nodded. “Yep. She asked to borrow it. Mighty odd, if you ask me.”

  Ida and Helen nodded in agreement.

  “I think she’s up to something,” Ida whispered.

  “Maybe she’s out visiting that nice young man from the square dance,” Ruth offered.

  Lexy’s brows flew up. “Young man?”

  “Oh, of course you wouldn’t think he was young, but there was a gentleman at the square dance who seemed quite taken with your grandmother and I swear he couldn’t have been a day over seventy-five.” Helen turned to Ruth and Ida. “Don’t you think, girls?”

  “Oh, yeah. She’s a cougar,” Ida said.

  Lexy scrunched up her face. She’d never considered that Nans might someday have a boyfriend. Her grandmother hadn’t seemed interested in any men since her grandfather had died. But, now that Lexy thought about it, a male friend might be good for Nans. She wanted her grandmother to be happy and felt relieved that her strange behavior could be attributed to a man and not something more serious.

  “Oh, thank goodness. I was afraid something was wrong with her,” Lexy said. “Did she say when she’d be back?”

  “Nope.” Ida raised a brow at the box. “What have you got there?”

  Lexy set the box on the table, untied the string and flipped open the lid. Ida craned her neck to peer inside.

  “Meringue cookies?”

  “Yes, but I didn’t bring any plates or napkins,” Lexy said.

  “Oh, no worries.” Ida pulled her giant beige patent leather purse from the back of her chair, rummaged inside for a few seconds, then pulled out a stack of napkins and passed them around.

  Lexy slipped into the empty seat as the ladies g
ingerly picked cookies out of the box and set them on their respective napkins. She’d baked three different kinds—a rich, brown coffee flavor, an orange and white striped that had a slight orange tang, and her favorite, a plain vanilla meringue that was piped over a chocolate kiss so that the kiss acted as a surprise chocolate center.

  “I’m trying to find the perfect recipe to enter in the Brook Ridge Falls annual dessert contest. Maybe you guys can help me decide which one to use.” Lexy smiled at the ladies, but her smile faded when she noticed them staring at her, wide-eyed, instead of attacking the cookies with their usual gusto. “What’s wrong?”

  “Did you say you were entering the annual dessert contest?” Ida asked.

  “Yeah. It’s the first time I’ve entered and I’m very excited about it.” Lexy wondered why the ladies did not seem to be sharing her enthusiasm—they were usually quite supportive of her.

  “Oh, you might want to rethink that,” Ruth said.

  “What? Why?”

  “Because you’ll be going up against Violet Switzer,” Helen answered.

  “Who?”

  “Maybe you haven’t heard of her, but we have and she’s not one to be trifled with.” Ida shook her head.

  Lexy’s brow wrinkled. “What do you mean?”

  “She’s ruthless and cunning. She’ll do anything to win a contest. Some say she’d just as soon kill you as give up the blue ribbon.” Helen thrust her chin out at Ida. “Just ask Ida.”

  Lexy raised a brow at Ida.

  Ida nodded. “Yep. I went up against her in the Old Home Day pea-shooting contest back in fifty-five … or was it fifty-six? Well, whatever year it was, she was mean as a stuck toad and I’m sure the passing decades haven’t made her any nicer.”

  “Pea-shooting?” Lexy stared at Ida.

  “Yeah. You know, you take a hollow tube and put a pea in, then blow. I used to be the champion shooter. Won every contest for decades.” Ida’s chin tilted up proudly. “I have very good lungs.”