7 Wedded Blintz

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7 Wedded Blintz Page 2

by Leighann Dobbs


  The back of her mind was screaming for her to run in the other direction, but she had to check if they were alive so that she could perform aid if necessary.

  Why would someone kill Philippe and his assistant?

  She reached Philippe first and checked for a pulse. Nothing.

  She turned to the other body. From the doorway, she’d assumed it was Philippe’s assistant who lay beside him but now, close up, she could see she’d been wrong. It was Veronica Maynard. And she was dead.

  Why would someone want to kill Philippe and Veronica?

  Lexy stood up, grabbed her dress off the counter and ran out to her car to call nine-one-one.

  Chapter Three

  Lexy’s stomach churned as she heard the sirens getting closer and closer. It wasn’t the site of the two bodies so much—she was getting kind of used to stumbling over dead bodies—but the arrival of her homicide detective fiancé that made her nervous. Jack had a tendency to get irritated with the way Lexy seemed to be a murder magnet, and with the wedding so close, she didn’t want to rock the boat.

  Two black and whites pulled to the curb along with an unmarked police car with Jack at the wheel and his partner, John Darling, riding shotgun. Lexy saw Jack’s eyes narrow as he recognized her car, and she steeled herself with a deep breath.

  Lexy got out and leaned against the car. Her top teeth worried her bottom lip as she watched Jack come toward her. She had to admit, his tall frame, broad shoulders and ruggedly handsome face still made her heart flutter. She just hoped he wouldn’t be too mad.

  “You called this in?” He raised a brow at her.

  Lexy nodded.

  “Two bodies?” He glanced back at the building where John was organizing the rest of the crew.

  Lexy nodded again.

  “Jeez, Lexy. Now you’re finding them in batches.” Jack shook his head and turned to start back across the street. Then he stopped, turned back toward her and took a step closer. He tucked a stray hair behind her ear, and her heart swelled when she saw the concern in his honey-brown eyes.

  “Don’t leave. We’re going to need to question you.” He brushed his lips quickly against her forehead then jogged back to Chez Philippe, disappearing through the front door and leaving Lexy to wonder what the heck had happened in there.

  Lexy glanced into her car at her wedding dress, feeling selfishly happy that she hadn’t left it in the store where it might be confiscated as evidence. The thought gave her a pang of guilt when she realized Veronica’s dress might not be so lucky. Was it in there covered in blood? She couldn’t remember what the room had looked like or what was in there, she’d been so focused on determining if either of them was alive. Either way, Veronica would never get the chance to wear it.

  Suddenly stricken with an overwhelming curiosity, she stood on her tiptoes craning to see if she could make out what was going on inside. Jack probably wouldn’t like it if she barged right in though, so she took out her phone and called Nans instead.

  Not that long ago, Lexy discovered that Nans and three of her friends, Ida, Ruth and Helen, had an unusual hobby—they liked to solve murders. They were actually quite serious about it and even had a name for themselves—The Ladies Detective Club. That hobby had really come in handy when Lexy had been accused of poisoning her ex-boyfriend. Since then, the five of them had gone on to solve several other murders.

  Lexy had to admit she had a fondness, and a bit of a talent, for solving murders … even if Jack took a dim view of her extra-curricular activities. Nans would never forgive her if she found out Lexy had stumbled across more bodies and didn’t call right away.

  “Hello?” Nans answered the phone and Lexy could hear a din of conversation in the background.

  “Hi Nans. It’s Lexy.”

  “Oh. Hi, dear. I forgot to look at caller id again. How are you?”

  “Good,” Lexy said, “I have some interesting news.”

  “Hold on, dear.”

  Lexy could have sworn she heard someone yell “Bingo” before the sounds on the other end were muffled by Nans’ hand covering the mouthpiece.

  A few seconds later Nans came back on. “Sorry, dear. I had to go outside because I couldn’t hear.”

  “Are you at Bingo again?” Lexy asked.

  “Yes,” Nans said sheepishly. “Ida just won a hundred dollars—that’s a lot when you’re on a fixed budget with only social security checks to support you.”

  “I’m sure it is.” A movement over in the store caught Lexy’s eye and she lowered her voice. “Never mind about that though, I have something exciting to tell you.”

  “Oh? What?”

  “Remember how I told you I was bringing my dress back to Chez Philippe tonight?”

  “Yeeees.” Nans drew out the middle of the word.

  “Well, you won’t believe what I found,” Lexy said.

  “What?” Nans was starting to sound aggravated and Lexy could almost picture her making a circling gesture with her hand to indicate Lexy should move it along.

  “Philippe Montague and Veronica Maynard.” Lexy paused for effect.

  “In a compromising position?” Nans asked sounding much more interested.

  “No. Dead.”

  Nans gasped on the other end of the phone. “Did you say dead?”

  “Yep.”

  “But who would want to kill them?” Nans asked.

  “That’s what I was wondering,” Lexy said. “Jack’s inside investigating the scene right now.”

  “What? And you’re not in there?” Nans practically yelled into the phone.

  “No. He told me to stay here.” Lexy looked over at the doorway again. She really wanted to know what was going on in there.

  “You need to get in there and listen to what they are saying. Find out what the clues are. Memorize the crime scene,” Nans instructed. “Otherwise, how do you expect us to solve the murders?”

  Lexy pressed her lips together trying to remember Jack’s words. He hadn’t actually said not to go in there, he’d just said not to leave. Which meant it was perfectly fine for her to go in.

  “Okay, I’m going in. I’ll call you later.”

  Lexy snapped the phone shut, walked over to the shop door, opened it and strode in like she belonged there.

  ***

  No one questioned her entrance, so Lexy snuck into the back room and slid into a corner, wedging herself in between a dress form and the counter. The form was fully clothed in a hoop skirt wedding gown, which she hoped would hide her.

  Jack was busy bending over the body with John and the medical examiner, Naomi Sprigs. Several crime scene investigators were busy taking pictures, dusting for prints and putting down yellow plastic cards with numbers on them. No one paid any attention to her.

  She craned her neck to see what was going on over by the bodies. Naomi was pointing at different parts of the bodies, presumably the parts where the blood was coming out. With a start, Lexy realized she didn’t even know what had killed them. She tilted her ear toward the trio, hoping to hear what they were saying.

  “… gunshot wound here … and here,” Naomi said.

  John stood up and walked to the back of the room. Lexy noticed there was a back door right behind him. He made a motion like he was holding a gun. Some of his words drifted over to Lexy.

  “ … Killer … stood …”

  From what she could gather, he was saying the killer must have come in the back door and stood where John was, firing the shots from there. So they were killed with a gun.

  “Then, he probably ran back out.” Jack’s deep baritone carried over to Lexy.

  Naomi stood up and pointed to something on the opposite side of the bodies. “Well, then, what about that?”

  “And these.” A crime scene tech pointed to several places on the floor leading out into the front room.

  Lexy craned to see what she was pointing at. She cringed when she saw the smudged area of blood and subsequent footprints leading to the front, realizin
g it was she who had smudged the blood. Looking down at her shoe, she recoiled when she saw the smear of dark red on tan suede. Her elbow jerked out and hit the dress form, which teetered precariously before crashing loudly to the floor.

  Everyone in the room jerked their heads in Lexy’s direction making her feel like she’d been caught running naked down Main Street. Her cheeks burned and she managed a smile and finger wave.

  “Lexy? What are you doing in here?” Jack’s forehead pleated between dark masculine brows.

  “Oh, I thought you said to stick around …” Lexy plastered a look of innocence on her face.

  Jack’s eyes narrowed. “I think you knew I meant to stick around outside.”

  Jack’s partner, John Darling stood behind Jack, his long ponytail cascading down the front of his leather jacket. He laughed good-naturedly and jabbed Jack in the arm.

  “I think she’s got you there, buddy,” he said then turned to Lexy. “Hey Lexy, how’s it going?”

  “Good. You?” Lexy favored John with a genuine smile. Not only had she known the long-haired detective as long as she’d known Jack, but he was married to her best friend Cassie. She considered him a good friend.

  “Never better,” he replied. “I see you’re up to your usual tricks of finding bodies.”

  Lexy cringed as she watched Jack and Naomi examine the bloody footsteps.

  “Those look like high heels,” Naomi said.

  Jack cut his eyes to Lexy, then dropped them to her shoes. There was no mistaking the blood on one of them.

  “When I saw the bodies, I rushed over to see if they were still alive.” Lexy held her foot out. “I slid in the blood. Once I knew they were dead, I didn’t want to sit in here with them so I ran outside to my car to call nine-one-one.”

  “We’re going to have to take that shoe.” Jack motioned to one of the crime scene investigators. “Take the shoe from Ms. Baker and bag it up as evidence. Check the other shoe too, if there’s blood on it take—”

  “Ackkkkk!”

  His instructions were interrupted by a shriek in the doorway. Lexy jerked her head in the direction of the shriek just in time to see Millie, Montague’s seamstress, drop a tray of Starbucks coffees on the floor, the lids popped off and the brown liquid was spreading toward the crime scene.

  “Dammit, don’t let that contaminate the crime scene!” Jack yelled. “Why isn’t that front room secured?”

  Someone scurried to clean up the coffee mess and a uniformed officer from the front room poked his head in. “Sorry, detective. The room is secure … she came in through a side door.”

  Millie’s hands flew up to her cheeks and she stood frozen in the doorway staring at the bloody mess.

  Lexy saw Jack suck in a deep breath. “Okay, take her out front and find her a place to sit. I’ll be out to talk to her in a minute.”

  Jack turned back to the bodies and Lexy took off her shoe and handed it to the CSI, then lifted the other shoe for his inspection. That one turned up clean so she didn’t have to hand it over, but her stomach tightened when she saw her expensive Jimmy Choo in the evidence bag. Would she ever get it back?

  Out of the corner of her eye, Lexy saw Jack heading out into the front room and she slipped into the room behind him. Hobbling off-kilter with only one shoe, she was careful to stay out of his direct line of sight but close enough so she could hear the interrogation.

  Millie was seated on a white tufted bench—the same bench Lexy had sat on during her first visit. To her left was a rack of wedding gowns. Jack pulled a chair up opposite her and leaned toward her. Lexy could see the older woman was visibly shaken.

  “Are you okay to answer some questions?” he asked in a soothing, low voice.

  Millie nodded, dabbing at the corner of her eye with a tissue she’d pulled from the table beside her.

  “Okay,” Jack said as he pulled out a small spiral bound notebook. “What’s your name and relation to Mr. Montague?”

  “I’m Millie Townsend, Mr. Montague’s seamstress.” She sniffed.

  “How long have you worked for Montague?”

  Millie pressed her lips together. “Oh, well, I’d say at least twenty years.”

  Jack scribbled in the pad. “Do you know of anyone that would want to kill him?”

  “Lordy no!” Millie blanched. “Everyone loved Philippe. He was a nice man.”

  “And what are you doing here … at night?”

  “I came in for some extra work. Mr. Montague was meeting with some clients that needed dress alterations.”

  “Does he meet with clients at night often?”

  Millie fretted with the tissue in her hand, looking down instead of at Jack. “No, but there was an … ummm … altercation this afternoon and he set up special meetings because of that.”

  “An altercation?” Jack straightened in his chair.

  “Yes. Veronica Maynard … I believe that’s who is in there.” Millie pointed her chin toward the back room and tears spilled out of her eyes. Jack gave her a few seconds to compose herself as he scribbled in his notepad.

  “Did Mr. Montague have an altercation with Ms. Maynard?” Jack asked.

  “Goodness no! The altercation was between Ms. Maynard and another bride.”

  “Oh really?” Jack’s voice was piqued with interest, causing a sinking sensation in Lexy’s chest. “What was the fight about?”

  Millie blushed. “Well, I really don’t eavesdrop—you could hear them yelling all the way in the back room, though. But I only heard the tail end of the fight. If I’d known what was going to happen, I might have taken it more seriously.”

  “Why is that?” Jack asked.

  “Because I heard Ms. Veronica say she’d stop the other bride from wearing the dress if it was the last thing she did.”

  Lexy could practically see Jack’s ears perk up and she started to back slowly out of the room. Jack leaned closer to Millie and put his hand over hers.

  “Now, think carefully Millie. Do you know who the other bride was?”

  “Why sure,” Millie said. Lexy’s blood froze as the older woman pointed her index finger in Lexy’s direction.

  “She’s standing right over there.”

  Chapter Four

  Lexy hobbled down the hall of the police station, propelled along at twice her normal speed by Jack’s vise-like grip on her elbow. Her uneven one-shoed gait made it hard for her to keep up, but she didn’t have much choice.

  He ripped open the door to an interrogation room and shoved her inside where she collapsed in the chair, exhausted.

  Her heart sank as she watched him pace back and forth in front of the door. He stopped and faced her, hands on hips.

  “It might have been nice if you’d mentioned that you had a fight with the deceased and your shoe was covered in her blood when I first got to the store,” he said.

  Lexy bit her bottom lip to ward off the tears that threatened to spill out of her eyes. “I know. I’m sorry. Honestly, I wasn’t thinking straight—I didn’t realize the fight we had earlier would be pertinent and I was too shocked at finding the bodies to even think about my shoe.”

  Jack’s face softened. “I know. I don’t mean to be harsh on you but I don’t want it to seem like you were hiding that. Some might consider that suspicious.”

  The door to the room opened and John Darling slipped in, the plastic evidence bag with Lexy’s shoe in his hand. “Are you guys ready?”

  Jack pulled out a chair on the opposite side of the table from Lexy and sat down. “Sure. It’s probably best if you ask the questions.”

  John nodded and sat in the chair next to Jack. He put the plastic bag on the table. Lexy’s stomach fluttered nervously—she wasn’t used to being questioned as a suspect, although having Jack and John do the questioning did make it less scary.

  “Is this your shoe?” John pointed to the shoe in the bag.

  “Yes.”

  “Why were you at Chez Philippe tonight?” John asked leaning back in his cha
ir.

  “I had an appointment with Philippe about my dress,” Lexy answered.

  “And what happened when you got there?”

  Lexy thought back to earlier in the evening, trying to remember the details so she could explain them properly. “When I pulled up out front, the store was dark. I thought that was kind of strange, but since the store actually closes at five, I figured Philippe might be in the back. So I—”

  The door to the room jerked open and they all looked up to see the Chief of Detectives, Willard Eames—Jack and John’s boss.

  “Hold it.” Eames held his palm up toward them as he leaned against the door jam, the door still open.

  Lexy squinted at the tall, thin man taking in his blue suit coat and red and blue diagonally striped tie. He had a sour look on his face, like someone had forgotten to put sugar in his lemonade.

  “Huh?” John said.

  “Aren’t you Perillo’s fiancée?” Eames said to Lexy.

  “Yes.”

  “Then I think this could be a conflict of interest.” Eames turned to Jack. “Perillo, you’re off the case.”

  “What?” Jack stared at Eames, his eyebrows dipping into an angry V in the middle.

  “Come on Jack, you know we’re under scrutiny by internal affairs. I can’t take any chances with one of my detectives being related to someone involved in the case,” Eames said.

  “But Lexy’s not really involved,” Jack said.

  Eames’ eyebrows lifted a fraction of an inch. “No? She found the bodies and has blood on her shoe. I think it’s better for everyone if I put you and Darling on another case.”

  “But who will work this one?” Jack asked.

  Eames smiled. “It just so happens we have someone who just passed the detectives’ exam.”

  “We do? Who?” John asked.

  “Watson Davies,” Eames answered.

  “A rookie?” Jack looked at Eames incredulously. “You’re going to put a rookie on a double homicide?”

  “Davies will be the lead detective, but you can still consult on the case,” Eames said. “I just don’t want either of you taking an active role.”

 

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