Leighann Dobbs - Lexy Baker 09 - Ice Cream Murder

by Leighann Dobbs

  Norman scrunched up his face. “Your grandmother?”

  “Yes, perhaps you’ve heard of The Ladies Detective Club?”

  “No.”

  “Well, that’s my grandma and her friends. They’re pretty good. They even help the police sometimes. Anyway, we’ve stumbled onto something much more interesting than a caterer serving the wrong ice cream.”

  That got his interest. “Really?”

  “Yep. It seems Regis’ death might not have just been an accident.”

  Norman’s eyes got wider. “What do you mean?”

  “His son, Winston, has some serious gambling debts. He needed money bad.”

  “But he already has lots of money.”

  “Not this much money. Even though he makes a big salary, Regis wasn’t overly generous with the Bank’s family fortune. The kind of debt Winston had is the kind that gets you maimed or killed. We’re thinking maybe he couldn’t wait for the old man to die and tried to help things along.”

  Norman speared her with a skeptical look. “How do you know this?”

  “Let’s just say we have our sources. But they need to be verified and that’s where you come in.”

  “I do?”

  “Sure, you must have some sources down at the paper that have street knowledge.”

  “Well, we do have some unsavory characters that I suppose I could tap into.”

  “Great, all you need to do is find out if Winston owed someone money and if he was being threatened.”

  “And then?”

  “We’ll do the rest to try to prove he killed Regis. And you’ll get the exclusive on the story. No one else knows about this.”

  Norman chewed his bottom lip. “So, if I help you, you won’t tell any other reporters and you’ll keep me in the loop?”

  Lexy nodded. “Yep.”

  “And you won’t tell my mom about the toilets.”

  “Nope.”

  Lexy’s stomach churned as Norman made up his mind. He tilted his head, then looked out the window and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel.

  Finally, he shot out his hand toward Lexy for a handshake.

  “Okay. Deal.”

  Chapter Nine

  The next afternoon, Lexy sat at one of the cafe tables in her bakery, her hands wrapped around a mug of dark roast coffee. Across from her, Nans, Ruth, Ida and Helen munched on pastries. Outside, summer had arrived. The trees were in full bloom, flowers lined the river banks and birds hopped about on the sidewalk hoping for departing bakery customers to throw a few crumbs.

  “These scones are delightful.” Ida pinched off a piece of scone that contained a plump, juicy raspberry. “Are these the raspberries you got from the Farmer’s Market?”

  “Yes, they held up wonderfully and add a nice tart flavor, don’t you think?” Lexy replied.

  “They’re great,” Helen chimed in. “That Farmer’s Market was nice … I sure hope Larry doesn’t end up getting screwed in Regis’ will.”

  “I think he’ll be fine. He didn’t seem to care much about money,” Ida replied.

  “He sure doesn’t spend it the way Winston does.” Helen lifted the string of her tea bag, bobbing the bag up and down in her cup. “I was able to do some … err … creative investigation and it seems Winston and his wife have expensive tastes. Sure, he makes a lot at his vice president position in the company, but they spend more than his salary.”

  “So, if he did have a gambling problem, he’d be desperate for any money Regis left him,” Nans said.

  Ruth glanced around the shop, then leaned in, lowering her voice, even though they were alone. “Speaking of which, Shirley got a peek at the will. It turns out Winston is going to make out like a bandit … even better than Larry and Olivia.”

  Lexy made a face. “Really? That hardly seems fair.”

  “I know,” Ruth continued. “You see, most of the family money is in the form of Banks Development stock and Winston got a lot of stock—more than his brother and sister. I believe that was so he could retain the controlling interest in the company. Regis stipulated his direct issue be in control, so if any of them die within five years of Regis’ death, their stock is split between the surviving siblings. Of course, there was some cash money, too, and they each got equal amounts of that right away.”

  “How much cash money?” Nans asked.

  “One million each.” Ruth’s eyes sparkled.

  “Well, that’s enough to give any one of them motive to kill,” Ida said.

  “Maybe.” Nans sipped her tea. “But the only one with an immediate need for the money was Winston. The others could have waited until Regis passed naturally.”

  “We aren’t sure Winston had an immediate need, yet.” Lexy glanced at her phone sitting on the table in front of her. Where was Norman? He was supposed to text her with whatever information he had dug up on Winston.

  “I’m a bit worried, Lexy. How reliable is Norman?” Nans asked, as if reading her mind.

  “He said he has some contacts from the paper that can get the information. That seems credible, doesn’t it? I mean the paper would have reliable resources because they wouldn’t want to print anything if they didn’t have a pretty good idea it was true.”

  “Yes, the paper always did have some unsavory people they used for information, even in my day,” Helen said. “But their information was usually spot on.”

  “Okay,” Nans cuts in. “Say our theory is true and Winston did need the money. How can we prove he switched the ice cream?”

  “Well, he was sitting next to him,” Ida offered.

  “It would have been easy to just slide his ice cream over and pull Regis’s back in front of him, but we need something more concrete.” Nans turned to Lexy. “Does that place have video cameras or anything?”

  Lexy pressed her lips together. The lodge had been built decades ago. She doubted they had any type of surveillance. No one had mentioned it when she’d been there. “I doubt it.”

  “Too bad. If we had a video or pictures showing Winston switching the bowls, that would be just the proof we need!”

  Pictures.

  Lexy remembered someone from the Banks’ family had hired a photographer to capture the event. “Wait a minute! What about the photographer?”

  “That’s right!” Nans snapped her fingers. “We need to get those pictures. Do you know who the photographer was?”

  “No, but I could call Anna. I think she might know. She’s been pretty frantic about all this harming her business and I wanna fill her in on the latest developments anyway.”

  “Good,” Nans said. “What about eyewitnesses? It’s a long shot there would be any pictures of the switch, so the next step would be to find someone who saw it happen.”

  “You served the head table, Lexy. Did you see anything?” Ruth asked.

  Lexy took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

  Had she seen anything?

  She wracked her memory, but all she could remember was stressing over putting the right ice creams down and getting everyone served in time.

  “No I was so busy serving, I wasn’t watching the table. I was getting the evil eye from Regis’ assistant. She was very stringent about the timing and we were running late.”

  “We’ll have to talk to people that were there, find out who might have seen something. I didn’t know most of them. Did you guys recognize anyone you know that we could ask?” Ida placed a scone in the middle of an unfolded napkin and then carefully tucked the edges around to cover it before shoving it into her purse.

  “I didn’t know anyone.”

  “Me, either.”

  “Didn’t recognize a soul.”

  “That’s going to make it difficult,” Nans said. “People might not want to talk to strangers.”

  “I’m sure no one was watching the table that closely, anyway.” Lexy got up to refill her coffee. “If someone saw the switch, wouldn’t they have said something by now?”

  “That’s the thing,” Helen
answered. “They might not have noticed consciously … but something could be there in their subconscious.”

  Lexy stared at Helen, remembering the older woman was a master hypnotist. “You mean you want to hypnotize them?”

  “Yep.”

  “That’s an idea.” Nans pushed some crumbs around on her plate. “It might be our only chance. But before we go to those lengths, I want to make damn sure we have a good reason to suspect Winston.”

  Lexy’s phone chirped. She picked it up, her lips pressing together as she read the text from Norman.

  “I think we might have a good reason. Word on the street is that Winston owed big gambling debts. Almost a million dollars. And from what Norman heard, some really nasty characters were itching to collect.”

  ***

  The rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled Nans’ apartment. Lexy waited patiently by the old-fashioned stainless steel percolator, listening to the glugging noise and watching the coffee bubble up into the glass top of the cap.

  A double-tiered tray of pastries sat on Nans mahogany dining room table. Plates had been passed out, napkins distributed and Nans’ 1950s Jadeite creamer and sugar set had been filled and placed in the middle of the table.

  The whiteboard sat by the wall in the same place it had been before, except now it had more writing on it—the clues they’d found since the last time Lexy had been there.

  “It’s been fifteen minutes, Lexy. Any longer and the coffee will be too strong to drink!” Ruth yelled from her seat at the table.

  Lexy liked her coffee strong, but took the hint and turned the percolator off. She poured coffees for everyone and handed them out before taking a seat.

  “I’ve already hypnotized Mona, Ida and Ruth with no success,” Helen said ruefully. “Hopefully, you girls will remember something.”

  “Have you ever been hypnotized before?” Ruth asked Anna.

  “No.” Anna looked around at them with wide, nervous eyes.

  Lexy sympathized with her. She’d picked her up after work and filled her in on their theory. Anna had readily agreed to be hypnotized in the hopes she’d seen Winston make the switch. Anything to prove the liability wasn’t with the catering.

  “Oh, it’s nothing,” Lexy assured her with a sideways glance at Helen. Not that long ago, Helen had hypnotized Lexy. It had been painless—pleasant even—except for the strange side effect Helen had added in as a prank, which caused Lexy to quack like a duck whenever she drank coffee.

  That had worn off now, but the four older ladies had gotten a big hoot out of it at the time. Lexy’s eyes slid to her coffee mug. Hopefully, nothing like that would happen this time.

  “Lexy, why don’t you go first and Anna can see how it’s done,” Ida said.

  “Okay.” Lexy pulled her chair close to Helen who took Lexy’s left wrist in one hand.

  “Now, close your eyes and relax,” Helen said in a low soothing tone. “You’re safe here. You’re on the beach, the waves coming in and out … in and out. The sound of the surf, the gulls, the warming sun. The waves in and out … in and out.”

  Lexy could feel herself relaxing, deeper and deeper. She settled back into the chair, not a care in the world.

  “Picture yourself at Regis’ birthday dinner,” Helen droned. “You’ve just served the ice cream. What do you see?”

  Lexy pictured the dining room at the lodge clearly in her mind’s eye. “The room is all set up. Lots of people milling around.”

  “Can you see the head table?”

  “Yes. The Banks family is seated with their ice cream.”

  “Focus on Regis … what do you see?”

  “He’s sitting, talking to Winston, then leans over toward Olivia. Winston rips open one of those wet-naps and is rubbing his hands with it. Now Cora is behind them, bends down to whisper in Regis’ ear. Oh, crap.”

  “What?”

  “A man is approaching the table. Big, broad shoulders. Dark, longish hair, kind of curly. I don’t know who he is, but he’s blocked my view!”

  Helen tightened her hold on Lexy’s wrist. “Focus on the ice cream dish in front of Regis.”

  “That’s the problem, I can’t see it - my view is totally blocked! Wait. Now the man is moving away, going back to his table. Regis is standing up to make his speech. The ice cream could have already been switched and I didn’t see it.”

  Helen sighed. “Okay, when I count to three you’ll wake up refreshed and happy. One. Two. Three.”

  Lexy’s eyes snapped open. She felt like she’d just slept the best sleep of her life. She remembered only bits and pieces about what happened while she’d been under hypnosis though. “Did you get anything?”

  “Unfortunately, no. Someone blocked your view.”

  “Ughh … Sorry. I’d hoped we’d be able to prove it was Winston. At least to ourselves, anyway. I don’t think hypnosis is admissible in court, but at least we’d know and I’m sure Jack would believe us and open the case.”

  “Don’t feel bad. All is not lost.” Nans put the brownie she’d plucked from the top tier of the pastry dish on her plate. “Maybe Anna was watching from a different spot in the room and saw the switch.”

  Lexy got up and Anna sat in the chair next to Helen, who took her wrist and put her under hypnosis, the same as she’d done to Lexy.

  “What do you see at the head table?” Helen asked.

  “Cora. She’s giving me a dirty look. She’s unhappy we’re late serving the ice cream.”

  “What about Regis. Can you see him?”

  “Yes. He’s talking to Winston … now he’s turned to listen to something Olivia is saying.”

  “Is he eating the ice cream?”

  Anna paused. “No. It doesn’t look like he’s eaten any yet.”

  “Okay. What’s happening now?”

  “Someone at a table is signaling me. They want more coffee. I get a pot from the back and top off their cup.”

  “What about the head table?”

  “Regis is making his speech.”

  Helen exchanged a look with Nans, who nodded. Lexy’s stomach sank as Helen brought Anna out of the hypnotized state. Anna had been busy pouring coffee when the ice cream switch happened, so she didn’t see the switch either.

  “Well, that was disappointing.” Ida mumbled, swooping the filling out of the side of a Whoopee pie with her finger and licking it off.

  “I know,” Nans sighed. “We’ll just have to hope an incriminating shot shows up at the photographer’s. A picture will be better anyway, as it will provide indisputable proof.”

  Ida turned to Anna. “Do you know who the photographer was?”

  “Yes, Lexy asked me to bring his card.” She fished a business card out of her back pocket and handed it to Ida who glanced at it and then passed it on to Nans.

  Nans squinted at the card. “I’ll get in touch with him first thing in the morning.”

  “Say, what was the big announcement Regis was going to make?” Helen asked.

  Lexy and Anna looked at each other and shrugged. “No idea.”

  Ida wrinkled her brow. “That might be something. Maybe somebody didn’t want him to make that announcement.”

  “Winston?” Ruth’s brows lifted a fraction of an inch.

  Ida shrugged. “Possibly, or maybe someone else.”

  “But why? And would it be something to kill over?” Helen asked.

  “It’s something to look into,” Nans said. “I think we need to pay a visit to Regis’ personal assistant. What was her name?”

  “Cora,” Anna said. “I don’t know her last name, but she’s still working for the Banks helping settle some of Regis’ affairs.”

  “She could be a wealth of information,” Ruth said.

  “And she might know about the announcement,” Helen added.

  “It’s settled, then. Tomorrow we’ll call on Cora and the photographer.” Nans turned to Lexy. “You better bake extra cookies tomorrow—there’s nothing like fresh baked cookies t
o get people in a talkative mood.”

  Chapter Ten

  The next morning passed in a flurry of baking. In between waiting on customers, Lexy and Cassie made extra batches of Snickerdoodles, chocolate chunk, peanut butter and, of course the old standby—chocolate chip cookies.

  Lexy had packed two white bakery boxes full of the cookies and was ready to go when the ladies pulled up in front of The Cup and Cake in Ruth’s giant blue Oldsmobile at eleven-thirty.

  “Put your seat belt on.” Ruth’s eyes met Lexy’s in the rear-view mirror as Lexy slid into the long backseat next to Nans. Lexy did as told and Ruth lurched the car away from the curb.

  “So, what’s the plan?” Lexy asked.

  “Helen got a tip that Cora would be at Regis’ office at noon. We’re going to pay a visit to her there with the cookies to offer our condolences. We figure since you were the caterer, bringing some cookies to his office as a peace offering won’t seem suspicious,” Ida said from her spot in the front passenger seat.

  Lexy squirmed in her seat. She didn’t like being put on the spot.

  “Oh, don’t worry, I’ll do all the talking,” Nans said, as if reading her mind.

  “After that we’re heading straight to Elm Street to visit the photographer, Harry Wolf.” Ruth added.

  “That’s right. He’s on a photo shoot this morning, but said he’d be back to meet us at one o’clock. So we’d better get all our questioning in with Cora pretty quick,” Nans said as Ruth pulled into Banks Development parking lot, swerving through the rows of cars before settling on a spot under a large oak tree in the back.

  They piled out and walked to the one-story brick building.

  “Gee, I was expecting something bigger,” Lexy said. “A high-rise with lots of offices. I thought he had a big business.”

  “He does.” Ida looked over the top of her large old-lady sunglasses at the building. “But he’s not one to spend money on niceties. Plus, most of his workers are at the construction sites. This building is just for the management.”

  Nans held the door and they walked into a reception area with beige industrial carpeting and tan micro suede sofas. Several vases of flowers bloomed on various tables around the room. Condolence bouquets, Lexy assumed.