Mummified Meringues (12 page)

“I hope not.” Lexy knew Jack was joking, but her heart skittered as she slowly pried open the lid with the tip of her fingernail.

Inside were smashed up meringue cookies—her cookies. And a note.

“These will never beat my pies. You might as well quit now and save yourself the humiliation.” Lexy read the note to Jack.

Jack made a face. “Are you going to let her intimidate you like that?”

“Heck, no.” Lexy tossed the box on the table. “This is a battle … Violet may have fired the first shot, but I intend to win the war!”

Lexy ran up the stairs, showered and got ready in record time. She didn’t know how, but somehow she was going to give Violet a taste of her own medicine. She needed to find out where Violet lived in order to do that. And she needed to make a little adjustment to her recipe—if everyone wanted more sugar in those cookies, that’s what they’d get.

But first she needed to talk to Floyd Nichols.
 

***

Lexy punched the doorbell of the white ranch home and wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans.
 

Why was she so nervous?
 

Oh, yeah, because she was about to interrogate a neighbor who might have killed someone and shoved them in another neighbor’s basement, that’s why.

The door opened and the wrinkly face of Floyd Nichols looked out at her.

“Lexy Baker?”

“Yes. Hi, Mr. Nichols.”

“Come on in.” He opened the door and Lexy stepped into the living room. Like many of the older neighbors, Floyd Nichols hadn’t felt the need to remodel or even buy new furniture in over thirty years. It was almost like stepping back in time—an orange floral couch sat on one wall, an avocado green recliner across from it. The only item that had been updated was the large flat screen TV which wobbled on a flimsy particle board stand in the corner.

“Please, have a seat.” He gestured toward the recliner and then picked up the remote and muted the volume of the TV. “What can I do for you?”

Lexy cleared her throat.
Where to start?

“I guess you heard what happened over at Jack’s house … the McDonalds’ old house?”

“Yes, of course.” Nichols sat on the couch, leaning forward with his forearms on his knees and looked expectantly at her.

“I wasn’t sure if you knew who it was.”

Nichols eyes flashed surprise. “The body? What would make you think I would know who it was?”

“I didn’t know if you’d seen it on the news yet. It was an old neighbor. Earl Schute.”

Nichols leaned back into the couch. “Oh, you don’t say? I remember Earl.”
 

Lexy studied Nichols’ face as she said, “I was wondering if you could tell me anything about him. I know he lived next door to you.”

“Yeah. He did. In between me and your grandparents.” Nichols’ face turned sour. “Earl wasn’t very easy to get along with.”

“I heard. I also heard you got into a fight with him.”

Nichols narrowed his eyes. “Now, who told you that?”

Lexy shrugged. “Another neighbor. I also heard he had some insurance scam going. Was that why you were fighting?”

“Insurance scam?” Floyd shook his head. “Nope, not me. We fought because Earl kept putting his junk in my yard. But I wasn’t the only one around here that fought with him. He could be right obnoxious, especially after he’d been hanging around at that bar.”

Lexy straighten in her chair, remembering the receipt Sprinkles had found. “You mean
The Elms Pub
?”
 

“Yep. Lots of people went there back then. The town wasn’t as built up and it was the only watering hole for quite a ways.” Nichols crossed his ankle over his knee. “Anyway, why all the interest?”

Lexy sighed. “The police have Jack’s house closed up until they solve the case and we need to put it on the market to sell. I’m just trying to help the case along.”

“So, you’re wondering if I have any ideas as to who killed him?”

“Yep. The McDonalds are prime suspects for obvious reasons, but Nans says there’s no way they did it.”

“Oh, no.” Nichols shook his head. “Not Lois and Charlie. They wouldn’t hurt a fly. Besides, they were away in Europe that summer.”

“Yeah, that’s what Nans said. Do you remember anything unusual, any odd things going on over at their house? A weird smell?”

“Of course. That was the summer someone’s septic system overran. It was ripe, I tell you.” Nichols looked up at the ceiling, chuckling at the memory. Then he stopped laughing, leaned slightly forward and fixed Lexy with a serious look. “But that’s not the strangest thing. That summer, a stranger was seen around town. I saw him on the street with my own eyes. We hardly ever had strangers hanging around.”

“Really? What did he look like?”

Nichols answered without hesitation, as if the image of the stranger was burned in his memory. “He was short and stocky. Muscular with a dark beard and beady eyes. Just the kind of guy that would hide a body in someone’s basement while they were on vacation.”

***

Lexy left Floyd Nichols’ house with a sneaking suspicion that he knew more about Earl Schute’s death than he was letting on. It was no secret that the two men had fought, but that was probably no reason to suspect Floyd since it sounded like lots of people fought with Earl.
 

The thing that worried Lexy was that she hadn’t told Floyd what year Earl had died. Floyd had claimed he hadn’t seen anything about it on the news—that’s why he didn’t know the mummy was Earl. But if that were the case, how could he have possibly known it was the same year the McDonalds were in Europe?

Lexy hated to do it, but she moved Floyd Nichols to the top of her suspect list.
 

Nichols had claimed he didn’t know about the insurance scam, but he could have been lying … and something about his mention of the stranger seemed odd to Lexy but she couldn’t quite place it. Maybe she’d find out more at
The Elms Pub
.

On the way to the pub, Lexy tried to call Nans but there was no answer, so she called Ida.

“This is Ida.” Ida answered the phone like she was running a business.

“Hi, Ida, it’s Lexy. I tried to call my grandmother, but she didn’t answer.”

“She’s gone out in Ruth’s car again.”

“Oh.” Lexy felt that familiar pang of worry.

Ida must have read her thoughts. “Now, don’t you worry. She’s just man-crazy. You know how it can be.”

“Right. Of course.” Lexy pushed aside her worry and brought her thoughts back to the case. “Did you find anything on Nesbaum?”

“Not a thing. He’s clean as a whistle. We plan to pay him a personal visit tomorrow, though. You in?” Ida asked.

“Absolutely,” Lexy replied. “I’m on my way to
The Elms Pub
. My neighbor told me Earl hung out there.”

“Oh, that’s interesting. Tom O’Keefe did, too.” Ida paused. “But I guess we’ve already ruled O’Keefe out, what with the timeline and all. What else did you find out from the neighbors?”

“I guess Earl wasn’t well-liked. In fact, one neighbor saw another neighbor fighting with him in the street.”

“Oh, that sounds promising.” Ida’s voice carried a hopeful lilt.

“Well, normally I would say so, too, but all the neighbors fought with Earl … including my grandfather.”
 

“Mona’s husband?”

“Yep.”

“But I thought Mona barely remembered Earl.”

“That’s what she said, but she also said Nesbaum was dead. I’m a little worried her memory is failing.”

“Mona? No. She’s still sharp as a tack. It’s her hormones—she’s gone dumb over this guy. It can be that way, you know. Why, I remember when I met my Norm, we used to sneak away and—”

“One of my neighbors also mentioned that Earl was running some kind of insurance scam,” Lexy cut in. She didn’t want to hear about what Ida and Norm used to do when they snuck away, much less picture her grandmother doing similar things with this new boyfriend.

“Scam? Oh, my, the plot thickens.”

“Tell me about it.” Lexy turned into the parking lot of
The Elms
. “I’m at the pub so I gotta run. Maybe you guys could do your magic and look into Earl’s financials to see if there’s any truth to this insurance scam?”

“We’re on it,” Ida said. “How ‘bout you swing by the retirement center right after your visit and we can compare notes.”

“Sounds good. See you then.”
 

The bar was empty except for the bartender who was arranging the liqueur bottles behind the bar, facing away from her. Lexy shifted her eyes to the booth in the back, disappointed to see it empty. Sam wasn’t there. Her eyes darted up to the clock—no wonder—it wasn’t even nine o’clock!

The bartender turned and Lexy noticed it was the same guy from the previous day.

His brows ticked up. “Back again, eh?”

“Yeah.” Lexy smiled sheepishly. “I didn’t realize how early it was. I was hoping to catch Sam.”

“We’re not really open, but Gramps is in the pool room out back.” The bartender thrust his chin toward a dark opening in the back of the bar. “Go ahead back. I know he enjoyed talking to you the other day.”

Lexy made her way tentatively toward the opening. Peering in, she saw two pool tables side by side, dartboards on the wall and various tables with chairs resting upside down on top of them. Much to her surprise, Sam was swishing a large mop around the floor, a yellow-wheeled bucket beside him.
 

“They put you to work for your beer?” Lexy asked from the doorway.

Sam squinted up at her, his face cracking into a smile as he recognized her. “Well, hi there. Lexy, right?”

Lexy nodded.

“Come on in.” Sam took two wooden chairs down from one of the smaller tables and pulled one out for her to sit in. “Watch out for the wet floor there.”

Lexy deftly stepped over the wet area and sat in the chair. Sam sat in one opposite her. “So, to what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I had some more questions about the mummy in the basement. If you don’t mind.”

“Mind? Heck, no. Not too many people come by to ask me questions anymore. Whatcha wanna know?”

“I don’t know if you saw on the news, but they found out who it was. I heard he used to come in here. A guy by the name of Earl Schute.”

Sam’s eyes widened. “Earl Schute. He’s the mummy? Well, I’ll be.”

“You knew him.” Lexy said it as a statement more than a question.

“Oh, sure. He came in here quite a bit at one time. Troublemaker. I’m not surprised someone killed him.”

“Did he cause trouble with anyone in particular?”

“I don’t think he played favorites. As I recall, he was mean to everyone.”

“Did he know Bobbie Nesbaum?”

Sam shrugged. “I think they both came here around the same time. Of course, it’s all kind of fuzzy now. That was years ago. But I don’t remember them being friends. I don’t remember Earl being friends with anyone.”

“Yeah, that’s the impression I get,” Lexy said. “Do you remember any strangers in the bar … people coming in and asking about Earl?”

“Well, there’re always strangers coming in along with the regulars.” Sam puckered his lips and looked up at the ceiling. “I don’t remember anyone asking about him, though, except Violet.”

Lexy’s brows shot up. “Violet Switzer?”

“Yep. That’s right. I remember you said you’re going up against her in some competition.”

 
“Yes, the Brook Ridge Dessert competition.” Lexy’s stomach twisted. She really needed to get going on her meringue recipe. “But why was Violet asking about Earl?”

“Well, at first I thought she might have the hots for him, but then I realized a woman like her probably didn’t get the hots for anyone. Though they would have made the perfect couple—both of them being so nasty and all.” Sam shrugged. “Anyway, I just figured they must have been competing in some contest and Violet wanted to get info on him.”

“What contest?”

“She didn’t say.”

“Did Violet come here a lot?”

“Nah, only for the dart and pool tournaments.”

Lexy remembered the trophies on O’Keefe’s mantle and wondered how many different trophies Violet had on
her
mantle. “So, you don’t know if she lives around here.”

“Oh, sure … well, she used to. Used to live right down in The Elms. On Oak Drive, I believe.”

Lexy stared at Sam in shock. “Oak Drive?”

“Yeah. I’m pretty sure.”

Oak drive was the street that intersected with Lexy’s. Nans
must
have known Violet—as far as Lexy knew, her grandmother had made it her business to know everyone within a two-mile radius of her former home.
 

And now, Lexy had another person to add to her suspect list—Violet. Which was just as well since she had to talk to Violet about the contest, anyway. She might as well ask her a few questions about Earl while she was at it. “You said she used to live there. Does that mean she doesn’t anymore?”